Free A King is Born by Treasure Hernandez

to herself. “That bitch is fake, but that’s the difference between me and her. I’m a real bitch, and real bitches do real things.” Tasha kept up the conversation with herself while she freshened up. “If I didn’t know, then it wouldn’t be my fault, but I have to help her now. I can’t just do nothing. Now I just have to figure out how I’m going to get her away from Mitch.”
    At that moment, Keesha walked into the dressing room, her skin glossed with sweat. It was obvious she had just come off stage. “The ballers are up in this piece tonight,” she exclaimed. She started counting out a mound of money.
    Tasha didn’t reply. Her mind was on figuring out a way to get to Halleigh.
    â€œYou a’ight?” Keesha asked Tasha. “Your mind seems to be in a whole ’nother world. It must be, for you to walk off the stage and leave all your loot.”
    â€œYeah, girl, I’m good,” Tasha replied in the nicest voice she could muster up.
    As real as she liked to believe she was, she knew she had to play the role of fake friend with Keesha. Keesha was her only hope, the only link to finding out exactly where Halleigh was being held hostage, and how to get to her.
    â€œYou know what?” Tasha said in a perky voice. “It has been a rough day, but I need to get my mind right and go make this money. Hurry up and change, so we can work these niggas in VIP.”
    Tasha was no longer in bitch mode. She was in pimp mode. Working underneath Manolo for all of those years, she had learned a thing or two. Keesha had met her match. Tasha, about to pimp the information she needed out of Keesha like a pro, all of a sudden was best girlfriends with Keesha.
    â€œGirl, you ain’t said nothing but a word,” Keesha said. “Let’s go!” Keesha knew that Tasha would eventually come around and learn to accept that she was now top dog. Like the saying goes, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. She was glad that Tasha realized the real and decided to climb on board, and had no problem with her sudden change in attitude.
    The two women exited the locker room, and Tasha led the way to VIP, dudes grabbing at her left and right along the way, trying to buy her a drink. Ordinarily, Tasha might have stopped and let a dude buy her a drink or two, considering she made even more money off the drinks. Whenever the dudes bought the girls a drink, the cost of the drink was split with the bar 60/40 in the dancer’s favor. And the drinks for the dancers started at a ten-dollar minimum.
    Tasha was headed straight to where the ballers played. They would go deep, with their drink minimum starting at one hundred dollars. With VIP full, she wasn’t looking for a nigga with shallow pockets, and not for her own sake this time, but surprisingly, for Halleigh.
    Tasha needed someone that could bait Keesha without hesitation. Money definitely couldn’t be an object for that someone, which was sure to grab Keesha hook, line, and sinker. She knew Keesha needed to do the pickup for Mitch and Sweets, but if everything went as planned, Keesha would hand the job off to her and try to make a couple dollars out of one of the club’s patrons.
    Tasha knew that she had to attract the guy because Keesha wasn’t “snag-a-hustler” material. Her body was nice, but came a dime a dozen in the hood. Her face was cute, but her nose was big as hell. She definitely wasn’t model material. She was what one would call average. Nothing about her was extraordinary. Most girls with average faces made up for it with humongous assets like big butts, or nice breasts, but Keesha was lacking in both departments.
    But Tasha had to give the girl credit. She got her share of dudes. Tasha knew Keesha’s appeal had a lot to do with the rumors that she would do it anytime, anyplace, anyhow—for the right price, of course. She had the same tag line as Burger