Know Your Worth

Down To Business

I sat at the dinner table, waiting for Rashad to arrive. I closed the opening of my cardigan over my tummy. My dress was tight and I felt fat as hell.

I took a sip of wine, while I scrolled through my phone.

"Niyari..." I heard a voice. I looked up to see Rashad taking a seat across from me.

"Rashad." I returned the the distasteful greeting.

"That dress... It's a bit ... Tight. don't you think?" He asked.

"I am not your woman, so how I dress- doesn't concern you. Now, why are we here? I have other things I should be doing." I exhaled.

"Miss Jones... Your nonchalant ways of trying to dismiss me or 'check' me will only hurt you in the long run. You're very feisty. It's good to a point, but not with me. I suggest you go with the flow until things are where they need to be with these young ladies. Put that hoodrat attitude aside."

"Good evening, my name is Zhinore. I'll be ya waitress for the night is there anything I could-"

"Champagne for me and a water for the lady. Start us off with a Caesar salad." He demanded.

"Please, Zhinore." I added, with a smile.

"Absolutely." She smiled back and hurried off.

"They don't need to be treated with respect, they're below us. Well me, at least." He spoke.

"They are human beings, and she's about 18. I'm sure her money is going towards something useful. Have some decency." I spat.

"What, weave ? A Gucci bag? Sneakers? Anything to make her look like she's not living on section 8? Give me a break." He scoffed.

Don't tempt me, I thought.

"You're repulsive. With everything you say there's a shitty smell of arrogance and disrespect." I made a face.

"Niyari, my bank account says otherwise. I couldn't care less what you or anyone else has to say about my personality because I'm making six figures. I wipe my ass with crisp hundred dollar bills, do you understand ? Isn't that a life you wanna live?" He asked.

"If I live that life, will I turn into someone like you?"

"Nah, you'll be worse." He smiled.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well... When people aren't making much, there comes a time when they do start getting up there, and they become monsters with respect for no one." Rashad took his champagne from the waitress.

"Stop trying to belittle me. I make money. You keep making me out to be some poor ghetto girl and I'm way more!" I snapped.

"That little salon that you own, won't cut it." Rashad raised a eyebrow.

What? I never told him about my salon.

I stared at Rashad for a while.

"Oh, I did some research on you. Yeah, 'Ari's Stylez' shit ain't gonna last." He named my shop.

I shook my head.