Full Figured 7 Read online

“So what you got next? Bet all the record execs callin’ you now. You won’t be singing backup no more, that’s for sure.” She finished a few curls. “This what you want?”

  I fluffed the curls, which were brown with blond highlights mixed in. “Yep, this is it. About what’s next, you’ll find out tonight.”

  “Aw shucks, you ’bout to announce your world tour or something?”

  “Not yet. Just sit back, enjoy the show, and don’t leave before the lights go up,” I told her.

  “Cool. I ain’t leaving anyway. My man is already out there with a spot up front, girl.”

  “All right now, that’s how to do it.”

  There was a knock on the door before Prestin reentered with my tea. She placed it on the counter in front of me. “I was just running some of the details about the after party to Ace. We have the two of you and Franco set up front of the VIP section. Is there anyone else to be added to the list? Ace wanted me to confirm with you.”

  LaTrice looked at me anxiously through the mirror. I ignored her quiet begging and thought of Nisha and the rest of the members of Beau. “No, no one else. Thanks, Prestin.”

  “Sure thing. Just let Ace know if anything else comes up.”

  “I will.”

  She spotted my dress hanging in the corner of the room. “That’s hot. Perfect for a diva. You’ll be looking good, Sugar.” She winked and smiled, then left the room.

  “Girl, she looked like she was about to eat you up. She a lesbo or somethin’?”

  “First, she was not looking hungry in my direction. And second, yes, she is, why?”

  “Just wonderin’, girl, just wonderin’. Every time I turn around somebody new done turned lesbo.”

  “Well I don’t think she turned into a lesbian, LaTrice. Nobody turns gay; they are or they aren’t.”

  “I’m just sayin’, girl, half my old friends laying up with other women these days and that’s after years of slurping on dicks.” She stopped suddenly. “Oops, excuse me, I’m sorry, I ain’t trying to be unprofessional. But anyway, God didn’t make it for girls to be laid up with other girls. It ain’t right, the Bible said so.”

  “What exactly does the Bible say?” I wanted to know.

  “Girl, it’s some scriptures in there talking about homosexuality being wrong. Ask anybody.”

  “I am. I’m asking you.”

  “Well I can’t quote none of ’em right now, but I know that’s what it says in there.”

  “Have you read the Bible, LaTrice?”

  “Hell naw, I ain’t read no Bible.”

  I shook my head. “Then how do you know what it says, and particularly that it says homosexuality is wrong?”

  “Because that’s what everybody says. My momma and my daddy said it is. And every preacher does, too. It’s an abomination.”

  I tested her. “An abomination? What does that mean?”

  LaTrice rested the curling iron at her hip while she stared up at the ceiling. “It just means that it’s a sin. God don’t like it.”

  “An abomination is something vile or disgusting and I disagree that gays are disgusting,” I countered angrily.

  “Why you acting mad, Sugar? My bad; you got somebody gay in your family or somethin’?”

  “I’m just tired of hearing folks talk like all gay people are on a fast train to hell. Tell me, do you and your man plan on getting married?”

  She held up her left hand and waved it so I could see it in the mirror. “He ain’t put a ring on it yet.”

  “Well I do believe the Bible says something about fornication as well, doesn’t it?”

  “Forni-what?”

  “My point exactly. Never mind, LaTrice. Don’t ever try to debate anyone on this topic; just stick to what you do best: hair. I have to rest my voice now,” I told her and closed my eyes until she finished my hair.

  “I’ll see you out there,” she said as she packed up her tools. I nodded but didn’t speak. She left.

  I didn’t trust most people to do my makeup so on most occasions I did it myself. After LaTrice left, Yoshi entered the room with my makeup kits. I had just begun to highlight my face when there was a knock on the door.

  “Enter,” I said.

  The door opened slowly and in walked Nisha. Immediately I asked Yoshi to return to the hallway. Nisha closed the door behind her and stood next to me, her body leaned against the counter. I could smell her musky perfume. She wore cut-off, ripped jean shorts that revealed long, sexy legs. She ran her hands down the denim material and over her skin. I wondered how her hands would feel rubbing on my skin later that night.

  “We’re about to hit the stage,” she said. “I wanted to see you one last time before.”

  “To see if I’ve changed my mind?”

  She nodded, her ’fro bobbing with her head.

  “I haven’t changed my mind. The show will go on. And remember, this is only the prelude.”

  She smiled, relaxed. “All right. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “Go on out there and get them ready for me.”

  “I can do that. Now you finish getting fine so you can be ready for me later,” she teased.

  “I can’t wait.” We smiled at one another and she left.

  When I began to apply my foundation several minutes later, I heard the music begin. Ace came in shortly after.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey,” I said back. Our conversations had been so short and stilted since the morning she left for New York. We had talked on the phone a couple of times, and sent text messages, but only about the show, nothing of any substance and nothing related to us.

  “Their set is about twenty minutes. You’ll hit the stage about fifteen minutes after that. Need anything?”

  “I’ll need help into my dress when I finish my makeup, but Yoshi can do that if you have something to tend to.”

  She took a seat in the chair behind me. “Nope, just you.”

  I wondered if Ace wanted to make sure I didn’t leave to go watch Beau perform. I bet she wanted to keep the same eye on me with Nisha as she wanted to keep on Nisha with me.

  Her phone held her attention while I continued with my makeup. She glanced up only once while I applied my false lashes. “You look pretty,” she said, and returned to her screen.

  Finally, I stood and removed my robe. “I’m ready.”

  She put her phone on the table, got the dress, and removed it from the hanger. She unzipped it slowly, carefully, and opened it for me to step inside. I faced her, my hands on her shoulders, and placed my right foot and then left inside the dress. She pulled it up and on to my size-sixteen body. I turned around so she could zip the dress, her fingertips cold against my skin.

  “Shoes?” she asked.

  I pointed to my Gucci carry-on.

  “Sit.” I sat back in my chair while Ace knelt before me and placed a new pair of jeweled shoes on my feet. She stood back and observed me like a work of art. “Masterpiece,” she said.

  “Thank you, Ace.”

  “You ready?”

  “I was born ready, you know that,” I told her.

  “You’re right about that,” she agreed. We left the dressing room and walked to the side of the stage. Prestin handed me a microphone.

  “How was Beau?” I asked Prestin.

  “They did their thing. The crowd loved them,” she said enthusiastically.

  The MC, a radio disc jockey, announced to the hyped crowd that it was time for Sugar. I closed my eyes and said a brief prayer, which was routine before every performance. Blessings over this entire space, Father.

  The crowd cheered louder as the music to my first song, “He’s the One,” began to play.

  “Get ’em,” Ace told me.

  Prestin said, “Go on, girl.”

  I took a deep breath, licked my teeth, and stepped from behind the curtain on the left side of the stage. The spotlight focused on me. I waved to the crowd and clapped my hands in the air in honor of me right along with them. The
n I dove right into the song, which required little movement, just me at the middle of the stage. I sang passionately, recalling the urgency and yearning behind the words when I had written them so many years prior. I had hoped Ace would not only listen to the lyrics, but hear the desire behind each word. I wanted everyone to know that she was “my one” and I was hers. Still she had kept our love hidden between the sheets. During the song I looked back to her once. She stood still as she usually did when I performed, composed and business-like. Instinctively, I pointed right at her and sang the words “she’s the one,” instead of “he’s the one.” Her expression hardened. I turned back to the crowd. Many of the concertgoers near the front of the stage strained to see just who I had directed my love to.

  After the song, I spoke to the crowd and thanked them for coming out to see me and for all of their warm support of “Feel My Love.” They cheered loud when I mentioned the song and some yelled over the noise at me, asking if I’d be performing the song. I had to tell them that E wasn’t there to perform the song with me, but then I turned to the piano player behind me who played a few notes from the song. Then I sang my verse, making love to myself in my green dress. I ran my hands up and down my body, over my breasts, up my face, and into my hair. I gave them a visual Sugar orgasm and they seemed to cum right along with me. I looked down to see LaTrice and her man grinding with me and the beat. When the song ended I asked everyone, “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

  They all yelled, “Yeah!”

  I continued the show by performing a few of my favorite covers, including “Do Me, Baby,” “Let’s Get It On,” and “Inside My Love” by Minnie Riperton. Almost every song I selected for that night had a sexual undertone. That was intentional and would lead to the climax of the evening.

  Sweat rolled down my skin underneath my gown and it shined against the edge of my hairline. As I was preparing for the final song, I asked for a towel. Prestin, tall, slim, and sexy in those heels, walked onto the stage and handed a small white cloth to me.

  “Thank you, lovely. Isn’t she beautiful, y’all?” I asked the crowd. They clapped and whistled in agreement.

  “Before I leave here tonight, I want to give you all a special treat. You want to hear something new?” They cheered. “This is something I’ve been working on with a very talented young lady. We wanted to give you a little something extra tonight. Is that all right?” More applause. “You already met her earlier tonight, so without further ado, I’d like to bring Trendy back to the stage.”

  I took a few steps back to watch Nisha walk toward me from the right side of the stage, opposite from Prestin and Ace, who remained behind the curtain. Nisha carried a stool in one hand and a guitar in her other. She had changed out of the eccentric outfit she wore during Beau’s performance and now had on a short and simple nude sleeveless dress with matching nude heels. She had tamed her curly ’fro into a beautiful, kempt high bun. She was sexy and chic and still edgy with her guitar in hand. The crowd went wild.

  I glanced to my left at Ace, who appeared ready to explode with anxiety and fury. Her face was an angry and perplexed frown, her lips tight and pressed hard against each other. I turned from her and proceeded with the first step of me and Nisha’s two-part plan.

  Nisha walked the stool to the front of the stage and gestured for me to take a seat.

  “How beautiful is Trendy?” I asked the audience as I walked toward and then sat comfortably on the stool, my heels resting on the wooden ledge at the base. Nisha stood close at my side.

  “You know, there are only a handful of times in our lives when we meet someone who completely changes the direction of our lives. Well, Trendy is one of those people for me.” I looked up to her and she turned to face me. “It’s hard to believe we met only a couple of months ago but I can say that my life will never be the same.” To the audience I said, “Trendy and I wrote a song together that we’d like to play for you tonight. The song is called ‘From Behind.’” I nodded to Nisha and she began a delicate strum on her guitar. I watched her fingers caress and pluck the strings, then closed my eyes and pictured her fingers strumming the middle of my body a few hours into the future.

  I began to sing the sensitive lyrics about a genuine love affair—a love so strong it defied time; a connection so real it created an experience neither of them had ever had before. From behind closed doors their love was enviable. But that’s where it remained, for their eyes only. Next to me Nisha played while I would occasionally peek at her lovingly.

  The chorus explained that their love was good, but misunderstood. They could never have forever if they swore to keep it behind the door.

  The second verse I sang with more passion. It spoke about a lust so intense it made the body weak at one touch, one glance. When they made love it was hot like fire, intoxicating, and blissful. They sexed in every position: standing, sitting, missionary, and from behind. During that part of the song Trendy faced me, her guitar rested against her middle. She stared at me while she played with a delicate, slow grind of her hips. Sitting, I leaned toward her body, my face meeting her fingers as she plucked strings. I held the mic in my right hand and with my left I stroked the side of her hip. I sang to her about how good her body felt against mine, intertwined, so divine I could no longer resign to stay confined behind the door. She bit her bottom lip. I caressed her firm ass cheek and gave it a smack before she took a step backward.

  I repeated the chorus again before the melody slowed and then stopped. Acoustically, I sang that I loved her too deeply not to love her freely. And even though it would hurt us both, I had to let her go. With my eyes shut and moist with tears, I sang the chorus one last time. When I opened my eyes, the only light from the stage rested on me, with Nisha dim in the darkness next to me.

  The audience exploded in applause. I heard lots of whistling and a few women yell, “All right now!” I stood and bowed to the crowd. I walked to both the left and right ends of the stage and bowed and blew kisses to everyone. I met Nisha back in the middle, where we hugged tightly and then waved before we prepared to exit.

  “For those of you who aren’t ready to call it a night, don’t forget the after party,” I reminded everyone as they began to pack up their picnic items. I gave them the name and address of the venue. “See you there!” Nisha and I turned our backs to the crowd and prepared to greet Ace side-stage. We looked at one another before we rounded the curtain. Behind the velvety black material stood Ace with her arms crossed over her chest.

  “I need to have a talk with my client,” Ace said to Nisha, while looking at me. “Dressing room. Now.” She turned and started to walk toward the room at the end of the hall.

  “Guess you didn’t run that by her first, huh, Sugar?” Prestin questioned, somewhat amused with a half smirk.

  “It was a surprise,” I answered. “What, she didn’t love it?” I asked with sarcasm.

  “No, I can’t say she looked like she loved it. I did; it was pretty hot if you ask me.” She looked back and forth between me and Nisha. “Pretty believable,” she commented. “If I didn’t know any better . . .” She stared at us without finishing her sentence.

  “Prestin, darling, just what is it that you might know if you didn’t know better?”

  “I might say that there’s even more sweetness to Sugar than what meets the eye.”

  I smiled.

  “I’ve been around a long time. I’ve seen it all, you know,” she continued.

  “Well I say keep your eyes open, my beautiful Prestin, because from now on, what you see is what you’re going to get.” I winked at her.

  Prestin laughed. “Okay, then, I’ll be watching.” She turned to Nisha. “Great show tonight. I’ll be looking to connect with you and Beau again.”

  “I’d love that,” Nisha said.

  “Okay, let me wrap things up here. You had better get back there before Ace comes looking for you. I’ll see you at the party.”

  She then got quiet while listening to
someone speak through the headset over her head. She nodded silently at that person’s words, and then said, “I’ll be right there.” She walked away.

  “Let me get over to Ace,” I told Nisha. She reached for my hand.

  “Her feelings are most likely hurt already,” she said.

  “Maybe. Mine have been hurting for eleven years. It’s time to put that to an end.”

  “I feel you, Sugar. I’m still in. But, if anything changes after you talk to Ace, I’ll understand.”

  “It won’t. I’ll see you at the party, pretty girl.”

  She blushed underneath her already-flushed skin. “Okay.” She turned in the opposite direction from where I headed.

  Outside the dressing room, Yoshi leaned against the concrete wall, biting her short nails. She seemed shaken and I assumed Ace had angrily ordered her out of the room.

  “I’ll only be a moment,” I told her.

  Inside my dressing room Ace sat in the chair where I sat earlier while LaTrice did my hair. She swiveled back and forth in small half circles in the seat, agitated, her right pointer finger tapping rapidly against the leather arm of the chair.

  “What the fuck was that about?” she demanded.

  “The song with Nisha?” I asked as if I was uncertain.

  “Yes, that fuckin’ song.”

  “You know exactly what it’s about. It’s about me hiding behind Franco’s ass and your rules all these years. I’m done.”

  “You’re ready to fuck up everything I’ve done for you for a little girl?”

  “What? This isn’t about Nisha. This is about me and you and years of pretending and fronting to be a person I’m not. We had this conversation repeatedly well before either of us knew Nisha existed. This ain’t about her.”

  “It sure as hell looked like it is out there.”

  “You jealous?” I snickered.

  Ace stood up. “You can’t play me like a fool in front of hundreds of people, Sugar.”

  I took a step closer and we stood face to face. “That’s where you’re wrong, honey. You don’t have to worry about that since nobody even knows about us. Who’s going to know you’ve been played?”

  She didn’t answer that question. “Look, cut this shit out right now. We have business coming up and I can’t have you fucking it up with this crazy shit.”