The cost of vengeance - [18]

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at him.

“Nobody wants war,” Andre said. “Now, pour me one and let’s drink to this peace we just made.”

Lace poured Andre a drink and was about to pour one for me and Bobby. “No,” Andre stopped him, “they don’t drink.”

Andre, Lace, and his men, drank and talked shit, while me and Bobby looked on. Then Andre stood up and started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Lace asked.

“Now that I’m thinkin’ about it, I ain’t givin’ you niggas shit.” When Andre said that, me and Bobby pulled out our guns and started shooting. The move caught them totally off guard, and we were able to kill two of them before they got their guns out.

Lace didn’t have a gun, so he tried to run, while we shot it out with his men. Andre pulled his gun and shot Lace in the back as he ran. Lace tried to crawl away and Andre walked him down. “Look around you, boy,” Andre said and kicked Lace in the face. “All this is my territory.” Then Andre shot Lace in the head.

Chapter Nine

Jada West

Once I had Jenna on board, I began to work with her. I have to say that she was the easiest woman that I’ve ever trained. Since she had been modeling for years, she had the poise and carriage of a polished lady. Jenna knew how to walk, and how to use her eyes and facial expressions to convey certain emotions. Most of my work was spent teaching her how to speak, and adjusting her mindset from being one that looked for a man to please her, to one of a woman whose only desire was to please her client. Jenna Bobbit was going to be excellent.

As a reward for being such a good student, I took her for her first spa treatment. I always enjoy spa day at Caudalie Vinotherapie Spa in the Plaza Hotel. Spa rituals range from classic massages to wraps and scrubs, facial and body treatments, to nail and waxing services. Occupying the fourth floor of the spa was thirteen treatment rooms, along with a VIP suite for two, a Vichy shower, two hammams, and a unique barrel bath, where guests can soak in red wine or delicately crushed grape extracts.

Before and after treatments, guests are invited to the private French Paradox Wine Lounge to sip wines recommended by the spa’s sommelier. I usually get the Premier Cru Treatment. It’s an intensely rejuvenating treatment based on Caudalie’s most precious cream. The treatment begins with a calming massage that helps soothe and ground you, preparing you for the experience to come. A relaxation massage is gently performed on the head, neck and shoulders. Next, a deep smoothing of the face and neck; a long sculpting massage to the face; followed by a warm thermal mask. My entire body experiences total relaxation.

As I lay there, I allowed myself to slip into my usual fantasy. The seduction of Mike Black. I would answer the door to my suite, dressed in a black charmeuse robe with lace silk, and satin high-heel slippers. I’d invite him in and ask him to have a seat. “Champagne?” I’d offer.

I could feel his eyes on me as I poured the champagne. I’d come and sit down next to him, and we’d chat and laugh the way we always did whenever we’re together. Then he’d lean over and kiss me. “What took you so long?” I’d ask as his mouth cupped mine again. Then I would stand up and hold out my hand. Mr. Black would take my hand and I’d lead him to the bed.

I could almost feel Mr. Black kiss me again, nibbling on my chin, and sucking ever so gently on my neck. He would take off his shirt and ease the robe from my body while he kissed me. Once my breasts were exposed, he would lower his head and take my nipple between his lips. Ohh, my. Just thinking about it makes me feel warm sensations rushing through my body.

Each time I see him, I always plan to seduce him; but something, and that something was usually business, either his or mine, prevents it from becoming a reality.

As the masseur worked magic with her fingers, I thought back to the last time I saw Mr. Black. It was at a party given by Congressman Martin Marshall. The invitation said that the affair began at nine. I was dressed in a red Carolina Herrera off-the-shoulder, draped silk gown with a deep V back and a high front slit; Jimmy Choo lance mirrored open toe sandals, shiny mirrored leather with a double ankle buckle and a 4?-inch heel. I arrived at eleven; just in time to be fashionably late. I was supposed to meet Diane and Tangela House there, but it was getting close to midnight and I hadn’t seen either of them.

I knew that Diane wasn’t the problem; she was never late for an appointment. I knew the reason they were late had something to do with Tangela. She had only been with me for a few months. When Diane first brought her to me, I thought she had so much potential: five feet seven inches tall, one hundred and twenty pounds, long silky black hair, full breasts, and curvaceous hips. Although she was black, Tangela’s skin was creamy; almost white enough to pass. At first she worked out well, but lately I’d had some complaints from her clients.

“Hello, Ms. West,” said a voice from behind me.