One Night Stand

Chapter 11

O N E N I G H T S T A N D

Stephanie

"I would like white flowers. I don't want red fuckin' flowers at my wedding. What do I look like? A damn devil? Don't fuck up my day." Stephanie spoke with more than enough attitude.

          The event planners nodded their heads respectfully and walked off despite the attitude they were getting. Stephanie had been working all morning to get m her wedding together. She wanted it to be the best wedding of the year and with her expensive taste and Tyreek's no budget, she knew it was bound to be fabulous. A wedding for a princess.

         Stephanie's sister, Tiffany sighed and rocked her one year old daughter, Tara. "Stephanie, do you have to be so rude to people? I don't know where you got that bougie mean personality from. You should be nice to these people. They're the ones planning your wedding. They're helping you out."

      Stephanie glared at Tiffany. "Mind your business please. I hope you're working out because I don't want fat people in my wedding. You got baby weight on you so get it removed. You have a couple months."

        "You're such a bitch Stephanie seriously." Tiffany rolled her eyes.

           Stephanie chuckled to herself and looked down at her fresh manicured nails. The nail polish alone costed five hundred dollars. She held her hand up to the large French windows in her living room and allowed the sunlight to shine down on her nails. The door opened and Tyreek walked in. She sighed to herself and stood up.

       She folded her arms across her chest. "Where you been?"

      Tyreek sighed to himself. "Different day, same argument. Stephanie I have kids that I need to be there for. I wasn't around for six damn years. Can I spend time with my damn kids please?"

        "No! Spend time with your fiancé. I'm the one that requires all your attention. I'm sick and tired of telling you that. I'm about to be your wife in a couple months and things need to change." She argued.

       "What needs to change Stephanie?" Tyreek asked, sounding bored and uninterested in what she had to say.

         She placed her hand on her hip. "Well first of all, we need a bigger home. This house is nice but we need something bigger for our families. I'm thinking about nine bedrooms with a huge closet for me and my bags and shoes. I also want a new car because my old one is getting kind of old. I also want the passwords to all your bank accounts and safes."

           Tyreek laughed. "And I'm the one that's paying for all that shit cause you damn sure don't have a job. My baby mama ain't the best but atleast she has a job and pays for her own things like a grown ass woman should. And about the bank accounts and saves, no you're not getting my passwords. I worked hard for all that money in there. You ain't help do shit. All you do is spend the money."

      "Tyreek don't compare me to her! She's the definition of a ghetto bitch. She's the one fucking people the same night she met them and she's the one poppin off infront of your family. I don't care what that bitch does. And you will give me the passwords or as your wife, I will get them with or without you. Try me." She defended.

        He sucked his teeth and waved her off. "Man you trippin."

         "Anyways, I'm not cooking dinner tonight. I have things to do." She grabbed her snakeskin Celinè purse that won't release for another year.

        "You don't neva cook anyways," Tyreek whispered to himself.

              Stephanie left the house and walked through the warm, summer weather. Her hair blew in the wind as she walked to her BMW convertible that Tyreek had bought her. She started the car up and drove out the wealthy part of Philadelphia. She was now in the hood where the killers, robbers, and kidnappers walked the streets freely. She hated coming on this part of time but it was something that had to be done.

       She parked outside a home. It was the best looking house on the block. She got out the car and held tightly onto her purse while walking to the house. After knocking a couple times, the door opened and Damien came to the door. He had Versace boxes hanging around his waist and basketball shorts that were sagging. His vibrant brown skin and pink lips instantly made her wet. He closed the door after her and gave her a hug.

       "Where you told him you was goin?" Damien asked.

      Stephanie took off her Sergio Rossi sneakers and dropped her bag on the couch. "I told him I had things to do. He probably will call me later on. I have him wrapped around my fingers baby."

       He chuckled. "Hell yeah, been fuckin wit me on the low for about a year and he still ain't found out."

        Stephanie kissed Damien's lips. "Enough of him daddy."

        "After we fuck I gotta' let you know something though that's what I called you over here for." He pushed her off him a little.

        "What baby?" She looked at him with those puppy dog eyes.

         "I know your dude one of the biggest drug dealers in Philadelphia. He makin some real money out here on the streets. Every time he come around he in the flyest cars and wearing the designer shit. I'm tryna come up forreal. How about me and you plot on this nigga then we take everything he has, kill him off, then we split the money 50, 50."

        She laughed. "What! Are you crazy? We can never do that. We won't get far trust me. He knows everyone. We'll be dead by tomorrow."

          "Listen don't worry about that. I'll worry about all that. All I need you to do is continue doing what you doing. Continue playing your role as his fiancé. All you gotta do is tell me his secrets and shit."

             "And what's in it for me?" She asked.

               "Fifty percent of whatever we get." Damien smiled.

          "Deal." She smiled.

           Milan

            After cooking dinner, Milan sat down at the table and caught up on some work. She had tons of things to do and with her mothers funeral, she was far behind. Three knocks erupted on the front door. She checked the time and it was five minutes past ten at night. She looked through the peephole and seen Tyreek standing there. A feeling of curiosity crept along her face as she unlocked and opened the door.

          "Yes?" She asked.

            He smiled. "Damn can you atleast let me in? I won't touch you."

          Milan opened the door and allowed him in. She locked the door after him. "You're in. What happen?"

              "You cooked? I'm hungry." He rubbed his stomach

              She nodded. "Yeah I did. Wifey ain't cook? I'm not trying to be mean but isn't that her job?"

Tyreek took off his jacket and sneakers and got comfortable. "Nah she don't have a job."

"Well that's why you look hungry. It's fried chicken, pasta and garlic bread on the stove. Suit yourself and please clean up your mess. I just cleaned up that entire kitchen."

Tyreek returned from the kitchen a few minutes later with a big ass plate of food and a large cup full of kool-aid. He sat down on the couch and got ready to eat.

"Damn nigga, is the whole pot on your plate and the whole pitcher in your cup? She must've ain't cooked in weeks." Milan laughed.

"Damn near. Let me eat in peace though. Where my kids at?" He asked looking around.

"Upstairs sleeping like six year olds should be doing at this time of night." She answered.

             "Oh tru that." Tyreek retorted.

            "But I'm about to go to sleep. When you finished, wash your dishes and go home. Lock the door after you. Goodnight." She stood up and went upstairs to sleep.