Daddy's Little Girl

c h a p t e r 5

(Camilla:) 

“You know I ain’t talk to or seen Cookie in two weeks?” Paris asked me as she laid on my bed. I put on my pink matte lipstick, and touched it up with gloss. I was getting ready to go to work, and Paris decided to go with me, so shit… I wasn’t trippin’.

“Either she just good at holding grudges, or she wasn’t never a real friend.” I said, shrugging my shoulders. I really liked Paris, no homo shit. She accepted me despite my job and my past. She ain’t judge me when she met me, and I really liked that. I ain’t never really had no real friend like her. All the friends who I ‘thought’ was real, ended up turning on me, prollay jumping me. I can’t remember allat, but I know they won’t try it again. I keep my circle tight.

“Yeah, you right… but, why you wearing a tshirt and jeans?” She asked, sitting up and looking at my outfit. I laughed, “Girl, I ain’t finna walk up in that club naked. I’m a stripper, but I’m a classy one.” She giggled and rolled her eyes. I grabbed my purse, placing my phone in it. “You ready to go?”

She nodded her head and stood up. She was wearing the outfit I picked out for her: a one strap and sleeveless fitted plain white dress that stopped a couple inches above her knee, red platform heels, and I tightened her hair up in a nice bun. I promise, she’s a bad bitch. “You look bad as hell, doll.” I said, looking her up and down.

“Get’cho gay ass outta here.” She said, laughing and pushing me out of my house. I laughed and locked my door behind us. Paris got in the passenger side of my pink Mercedes, and I sat behind the wheel, pulling out of the driveway. “You know they’ll pay good ass money to see you strip.” I said, causing her to laugh. “Ain’t you still looking for a job?”

“Yeah, but I ain’t tryna do no shit like taking my clothes off for thirsty ass men.” She said, waving me off.

“You got the body to do it, too.” I added on. She laughed, “Girl, please. My hips way too wide, and they look abnormal as fuck.”

“Stop talmbout ya’self, you sexy. You remind me of me… only I got a bigger chest, but that ass! Doll, you won that shit.” I told her as I started nearing the club.

“Bad bitch contest, I’m in first place.” She said, rubbing her hands down the side of her body. I laughed and rolled my eyes. We sat in silence as I stopped at my last red light. “You know, nigga’s u’ll be slavin’ over the stage just to see you perform.”

“Oh my gosh, Camilla! I ain’t finna be a stripper, damn!” She said, shoving my shoulder and laughing. I giggled, pulling into a parking lot at the back of the club. “Just wait til’ the night ova with. You gon’ change your mind.” I said, grabbing my purse. I pulled down the mirror in my car and lightly dabbed my lipstick, then looked over at Paris. Her mouth was wide open and she was admiring the club like she ain’t never seen no strip club before.

“Close your mouth, doll. That shit ain’t attractive.” I said, trying to close her mouth, but she swatted my hand away. “Camilla! Do you know what this place is?!” She exclaimed as she stared at the building in awe. I rolled my eyes and got out of the car, followed by Paris doing the same. “Well, I do work here…”

“Girl, this is like the hottest strip joint in NYC! This shit got a built in hotel at the top of it! How you got a job here? How much you get paid?” She said, quickly. I smiled at her and grabbed her hand, leading her up the metal steps that led to the backdoor of the club.

“The strippers here only got the best bodies, which you and I do. It’s hard as hell to get a job here without ‘that’ body. I got it, so I got it. You nah’mean?   And, it don’t matter how much I get paid, it’s only about if they paying me more than well.” I said, looking back and winking at her. I pulled back the backdoor, and Paris and I walked into the secret passageway. It was a small tight space, and it was more uncomfortable with the both of us in here.