Let's Meet

The next day, the smell that woke me up from my intensely deep sleep felt unreal because it was wonderful. I could tell that it was food, but there was no way that it was coming from my kitchen because the only other person that could be in there was Kendra, and she didn't know how to cook. Right?

I got off my bed and went to look. What I saw was truly the most shocking thing that ever happened to me.

"Ken, what are you doing in here?" I asked drowsily, almost completely certain that I was dreaming.

"What does it look like, sleepyhead? I'm making you some breakfast," she said cheekily.

"When did you learn how to cook because all of this smells amazing?" I took a seat on one of the kitchen stools.

"I've always known how to cook, Cher, I just don't like doing it," she answered.

"Then, why are you doing it now?"

"Consider it a peace offering. My little way of apologizing about Lardon last night,"

She placed a plate of pancakes, bacon and eggs in front of me and I just couldn't believe my damn eyes. It smelled good, and it looked good also; I just couldn't believe it.

"Go on! Dig in," Ken said with a weird smile on her face, and that’s when I knew that she was up to something.

I wanted to call her out and ask what it was that she really wanted, but I was too hungry to do that, and the food smelled too damn good. I grabbed a fork and dug into that plate with so much commitment, you’d think I was starving.

“It’s good, right?” Ken asked and leaned in closer.

“It’s great! Now, spit it out. What do you want?” I finally caved.

“What?!” Kendra pulled back and began laughing nervously, “I just made you some breakfast. What makes you think that I want anything?”

I stared at her without blinking for about ten seconds and that weak shit broke like the weak shit that she was.

“Fine! If you must know, I would like your help concerning a little something,”

“And what’s that?” I asked with a mouth full of bacon.

“Two hundred dollars,” she said and held out my purse.

“What are you doing with my purse?” I asked and snatched it out of her hands.

“I checked on you last night while you were asleep, and I noticed that it was a little open and so, I helped you close it and, during the process, I saw the money. I take it you had a very good night at the office,” She flexed her brows at me.

“Yes, I had a good night and my purse was not a little open. What do you even need two hundred dollars for?” I asked.

“It’s not for drugs, okay. Well, technically it is, but it’s for the drugs that I’ve already used. My dealer’s been asking for me to pay what I owe and he’s getting a little too on edge and I want to settle him, so things don’t get messy,” Kendra said.

“Fine,” I said, even surprising myself, “I’ll give you the money so you can pay off your debt, but God so help you, Ken, if you get more drugs on credit, I’m not going to bail you out again, girl. I’m serious Ken, you’ve got to quit that stuff.”

“I will, I promise and thank you so much,”

I took out the wad from my purse and gave her two hundred dollars. Ken excitedly took the money and hugged me like I had just saved her life or something.

“You enjoy your food, and I’m going to go take a shower, so I can get out of here,” she said.

“Don’t forget to brush your teeth really hard. You’ve got dick-breath,” I teased her as she went into the bathroom.

I went back to eating my breakfast and just as I was about to take another bite, my house phone began to ring. I wondered who was calling me so early in the morning and I walked over to the line in the kitchen and picked up.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hello, good morning. By any chance, am I speaking with Miss Cherilyn Michaels?” The person on the other end asked me.

Cherilyn Michaels! It’s been literally a decade since someone called me by my full name; my real name. A name that I didn’t want to change, but I also didn’t want to bear. That name was a reminder of a past that I had put behind me; a life that I desperately wanted to forget I ever lived. Ever since I got to New York, I’ve never told anybody that name. Even before I started stripping in Cookie’s club, I told people that my name was Cherry, so how in bloody hell did this person know who I was?

“This is her. Who am I speaking with?” I answered.

“My name is Beatrice. I’m the personal assistant of Mr Balogun, and he asked me to call you and set up a meeting with you for the business he wants to do with you,” The woman said.

“I see,”

To be honest, I’d almost forgotten all about the man at the club and that name, Balogun, was one that I had never heard before. I did wonder how he got my number and my full name, but I guess when you’re rich, you can find out anything you want. The assistant told me that a car would arrive to pick me up by noon and would take me to The Wallace Hotel in Manhattan where Mr Malcolm would be waiting.

After I hung up, I wasn’t sure how I should feel about this strange man that just so happened to want to do business with me. What could a businessman possibly want with a stripper if not sex? But, I’m certain that he knows about my policy, and he did say that wasn’t what he wanted from me, so, what did he want? The anticipation was killing me and I felt that I had to find out.

.

.

.

I had gotten dressed for about thirty minutes before 11:30, and I was waiting for the car to get me. Kendra had since left to handle her business, but I didn’t mention any of this to her because I didn’t want her to come with her crazy theories and dissuade me from going.

The car finally arrived and honked at the driveway. I went outside and the poshest chauffeur I had ever seen was holding the door for me.

“Miss Cherilyn…” He said as he titled his hat.

“It’s Cherry,” I corrected him.

“My apologies, Miss Cherry,” he said again.

I got into the car and the driver moved the vehicle, and we were on our way. It was a smooth ride, but there was nothing smooth about the way my heart was pounding. Why was I so nervous? I’m just going to hear him out and see what he has to offer. There was nothing to be nervous, worried or afraid of and so, I comported myself and silently rehearsed how I would speak and act once I was face to face with this man.

We reached the hotel and the chauffeur opened the door for me to get out of the car. I walked into the hotel and as soon as I got inside, a woman walked over to me with her hand extended.

“Hi, Miss Cherilyn. I…”

“Please, call me Cherry,” I cut in. I really don’t like being called Cherilyn. The sound of that name just hurts my chest every time it’s uttered.

“Miss Cherry… Welcome to The Wallace Hotel. I’m the one who spoke to you on the phone this morning. Beatrice,” She said.

I only nodded at her.

“If you would please come with me. Mr Balogun is in one of the private conference rooms waiting for you,” she said, and led me further into the hotel.

We got to a fancy-looking door, and she opened it for me and gestured that I went in.

“Would you like something to drink? Water or juice?”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you,” I said before stepping inside the conference room.

The door closed behind me and I looked up at him sitting at the other end of the large table with the same look he had last night when I was performing plastered on his face. His eyes were so focused on my body and I felt so self-conscious just as I did last night.

He looked like he was undressing me with his eyes, but maybe I was the only one seeing it that way. Even while wearing my heels with this man sitting down, I still felt he towered over me because his presence was just so gigantic and intimidating. My short red dress suddenly felt even shorter, and I didn’t feel too comfortable that I wore something that showed so much of my cleavage. It was a strange feeling because I was a stripper. I get paid to take off my clothes in front of men and I love doing it, so why was I feeling this way?

Whatever business offer he has for me had better be worth all of this trouble and self-consciousness he had somehow awoken in me.

“Welcome, Cherilyn,” he said with his hands on the table and his fingers intertwined, “Please, have a seat!”