Three shots in, and I was having a fucking ball! I felt good, looked good, smelt good, puss—you get it. Club HER was so damn lit, I didn’t even care that I had a gig early in the morning to style some models. I was able to get the entire gang to come out and celebrate. Linya, Kae, Sharanna, Natima, Clarissa, Nika, and even Ashara’s bougie ass were all looking good—thanks to me picking out everybody’s outfits for the occasion. We were mostly here to celebrate Kae’s engagement. It was the perfect place to avoid men because it was a lesbian club. Kylan was somewhere off celebrating with his boys, but I was happy things between them were good.
Shot number four came in and I tossed it back before drunkenly slamming the glass on the table. The girls were also downing shots when I walked around our table, dancing up against all of them. I loved them so much because they have seen me through some good and some bad. We were each other’s rocks and that was the purpose of creating Phat Girls Club. It was just a bunch of thick, fabulous, pretty bitches! I loved those bitches, and I—
“She’s drunk,” Clarissa laughed.
“It’s all in her sentimental ass face. Tiff, don’t start that shit,” Nika stated, as they all laughed at me.
If it wasn’t me, it was going to be Natima or Linya who got all teary-eyed when that liquor infiltrated our systems. The rest of them turned into gangbangers. I laughed with them, trying to stop the tears from flooding my eyes, but I was so happy and so grateful. Shit, I was also happy as hell for all of them; they were all thriving, and more than half of them were in relationships.
And then there was me.
My career was okay, I loved what I did, but I needed to do more. I was also single as hell. It was like everyone I came across always wanted something from me with nothing in return. The dating pool was shitty for lesbians too. I mean, Nika and Havana were lucky to have found each other, but that was tricky with the murder happening on her property. Havana revealed that she was related to the person who was responsible for the murder, and that kind of made things sour between her and Nika for a bit.
I headed to the bathroom while the girls continued to drink and enjoy themselves. It was cool to go to the bathroom alone since there were only women. We didn't have to worry about any overgrown-ass, horny-ass, loser-ass men grabbing when them or following them into the bathroom.
The bathroom was packed, and it took a whole ten minutes before I was able to get into a stall and make my way out of the hot bathroom. I ran right into a woman, not paying attention to where I was going. Damn near stumbling back, she grabbed my arms and stood me upright.
I’d had a few roles as an extra in some movies, but I would have thought what I was feeling when I met her eyes was something from a script. It seemed like the air left my lungs, and it reminded me that Nika said that that was exactly how she felt when she laid eyes on Havana. She was gorgeous. I usually went for women who were average height, black, and a lot more feminine, but I felt like I'd fallen in love looking into this woman's eyes.
“You good, mami?” she asked, her voice sweet like honey, but there was a hint of bourbon in there.
I examined her head to toe, landing on her face and realizing that she’d taken me in too. I was in a beige collared crop top that tied just under my breast, exposing the huge dragon tattoo up my side and the dangly navel ring. My skirt was barely there, as mini as they got for women with thighs and ass like me. And in five-inch stilettos, she was still taller than me.
“Yes? No?” she asked, moving her head from side to side, trying to find an answer in my eyes. I was still at a loss for words because she licked her pretty pink lips and I swear I felt my panties flood.
“You are so damn fine,” I nearly growled at her. The liquor was definitely winning.
“Have you seen yourself though?” she asked, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, running her eyes down my body again. “Just how I like it.”
“Pretty, hot, and thick? I cocked my head to the side. Her swagger gave that she dated black, but I could never be too sure.
“Just like that, mami,” she smirked, causing me to blush. Luckily, the melanin was hiding that.
“Well, I’m drunk as hell and should get back to my girls. So, you have—”
“Tiff, come on!!” Clarissa rounded the corner but stopped when she saw how close me and this Kehlani-lookalike were standing. She gave me an “okaaay, bitch, I see you,” look. I laughed, finding the strength to remove myself from her grasp.
When I got closer to Clarissa, I linked my arm to hers and she started firing off the question. I didn’t have much to give. It was a brief interaction, and I’d never see her again. She wasn’t even my type for real, but she was pretty to look at.
“You should’ve given her your number.”
“Who?” seemed to come from several mouths, and I laughed because I was fucked up and they were nosy.
“Some Hispanic girl was holding our girl near the bathroom,” Clarissa exaggerated. Well, it wasn’t an exaggeration. Technically, Fake Kehlani was holding onto me, but she wasn’t holding me.
***
I was obviously more affected by Fake-Kehlani’s touch than I put on. The way my wand pressed against my clit, I wondered what color her strap was and if she preferred to scissor more like me. My mind went wild with what it could have been like to just go home with her. I was trying to save myself for a meaningful connection, but a girl needed to get laid.
Relieving myself of the pent-up tension, I passed out. My morning, however, was complete shit. I woke up late, and my car broke down on the side of the road six miles away from my destination. Ugh.
“Yo, Gabe! Got a roadside call,” Jorge, my oldest cousin called out from the office.
I slid from under the old-school Chevy, where I was repairing shocks and struts. Lunch was coming up, so I didn’t even care. Once I finished with the roadside call, I was going to find some authentic Puerto Rican beans and rice. Benzo’s Chipotle smelled good in the shop and made me crave some rice and beans that weren’t from a chain restaurant.
“Where at?” I asked, cleaning my hands and grabbing the keys.
“103rd, near the Save-A-Lot,” he responded, handing me a piece of paper with the customer’s name and number on it.
“Alright Miss Tiffani, Gabe is on the way to save the day,” I said to myself, ready for the shift to end.
I got in the truck and pulled out of the lot. The ride wasn’t far, but I sent a quick text to the number, letting her know that I was about ten minutes away. She texted back quickly, asking me to be as quick as possible. I rolled my eyes at that shit because I’d get there when I got there. She probably had some simple shit wrong with the car that could’ve been avoided with regular maintenance. I truly felt how the guys felt about that; women were slackers when it came to caring for their cars.
When I pulled up to the parking lot of Save-A-Lot, I quickly spotted the car that was parked off to the back with the hood lifted. A woman with a whole lot of ass was bent over the hood, trying to see where the smoke was coming from. I had to get out of my gay ass thoughts. She made my mind flash back to the beauty I’d seen last night at the club, the one whose number I wished I’d grabbed.
“You Tiffani?” I asked, stepping out of the truck and walking up.
When she turned around, my heart stopped beating for a moment, and it took a moment for me to process that she was the woman from last night. She was dressed down with some neon pink biker shorts, an oversized distressed, black t-shirt, and a fitted cap that matched the white and black Nike’s she had on. My brain finally let me register that I’d had the luck of running into her again, and she was clearly interested in seeing me again too.
Or so I thought.
“Look, can you see what’s going on? I really have somewhere to be, and I don’t have a minute to waste.”
I could tell she was agitated, as most women were when their cars broke down from a lack of care. She was huffing and puffing, and if I didn’t know how fine she looked when she was out, I would have been annoyed. Okay, I was a little annoyed. Shit, it felt good to see her again when I’d thought about all kinds of positions to put her in last night. She’d burst my bubble a little with the attitude.
“So, can you fix it?” she asked, irritating my spirit a little.
“Yeah, but not today.”
“Seriously?!”
“Look, I know you’re frustrated, mami, but you gotta calm down.” I glowered her at. She was tripping, but at my words, she seemed to chill a bit. She gave me the once-over before speaking.
“Whatever you say,” she quietly said, tugging her lip between her teeth.
I could tell she was still stressed, but I was getting that look I got last night. I wanted more of that.
“I’ll take you to where you need to go, come back and tow the car to the shop, and I’ll take care of that.”
“Ugh, that’s going to be a fortune.” She rolled her eyes.
I stepped up to her, towering over her and demanding her attention. She looked at me and bit her lip again. I wanted to bite that lip for her. She was beautiful and I could look at her all day. She was feisty, but care troubles would bring that out of anyone.
“I said I’ll take care of it, got it?” I asked, nodding my head so that she understood. She nodded when she got it. “Come on, mami,” I stated.
She grabbed what she needed from her car, locked it up, and handed me the keys. I walked her to the passenger side and helped her inside the truck. When I climbed inside, she was still with her back towards the door and giving me her full attention.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“You know you looked like Kehlani, right?”
“So I’ve been told. But.. I think I look better. Work harder. Probably top better too.”
“Why you sound like you not a fan?”
“I am, but I’d rather talk about you,” I responded, pulling away from the lot. “Like where we going?”
“I have a gig to style some models. It on Kingston and Mayhem at the Carlton Theater.”
“That’s a good twenty minutes away. Just enough time for me to get to know a little bit about you.”
“I’m boring, I don’t have kids, I’m a lesbian, fashion junkie even though I don’t look like it right now, and I’ll be thirty-one next month. That’s all there is to it.”
“Do you date other lesbians with kids?”
“Multiple?”
“Nah,” I laughed, “I have an eleven-year-old daughter.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-four.”
“And you had her?”
“Yeah, thought I was bisexual for a bit. I mean, I was. A year after having my daughter and going through it with her father, I realized that men just weren’t for me.”
“And black women are?”
“Black women especially. So, how about you let me take you out? Least you can do for what I’m about to do for you.”
“I’ll get someone else to fix my car.”
“You’d have to go on the date to get the keys back, so… What’s up?”
She tried to hide her smile, and then she changed the subject. I let it go for the time being and got her safely to where she needed to.
Before getting out, she looked at me for a minute. “We’ll see how good my car is running, and then I’ll let you know.”
A slow smirk grazed my lips before I pulled it back and nodded. She was out of the car before I could get out and open the door. I shook my head. We’d have a talk about that later, on our date.
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