Justify My Thug

Justify My Thug by Wahida Clark Page A

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Authors: Wahida Clark
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man who had emulated his identity from Sean “P. Diddy” Combs. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the dick turned out to be garbage, a total waste of my time. So I dropped him faster than Charlie Sheen would check out of rehab. Despite all of that, we remained business partners and friends. I admired his hungriness and in business he was always up front and honest with me. Over the years, he became like the sibling I never had.
    Dropping my cell phone back into my Chanel clutch, I thought about his call. I had planned on calling him in a few days anyway. For some reason, something inside me initially told me to decline his invite to the club, but then my body screamed, “Go. Mr. Trae Macklin might be there.” What other reason would Stephon have to tell me to come to the club? And on such short notice. If it was really important, he could’ve come here to my office. The more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself that Trae was behind the call. The ‘Couch Canoodle’ move that I put on him probably had him yearning for me. So after I freshened up, I left the office.
    In the lobby I saw my long time driver and bodyguard.
    â€œLuther, leave the limo, get the Murciélago out. I need to be across town in the next 30 minutes.”
    To myself I thought, I’m coming, Mr. Macklin. I’m coming .
TASHA
    By the time I pulled into the parking lot of our club, it was 12:35. Stephon had called me and told me she would be here between noon and one. His scary ass had the nerve to tell me to act like I had just happened to drop in. Whatever. Anyhow, I didn’t want to be too early and I definitely didn’t want to be too late. I had vowed to myself never to step foot in Club New York again—since it, like my home—basically belonged to that Chinese bitch. But being a street bitch at heart, a sista gotta do what a sista gotta do.
    The lot was empty except for Stephon’s big ass metallic silver Hummer H1 parked in the spot reserved for the owner. Next to it was a black drop top Lamborghini Murciélago. Standing next to it was a Chinese man of average height dressed in a black suit. His presence told me what I needed to know. Ms. China Ho was inside the club and for the moment, that’s all I cared about.
STEPHON
    I’m sitting here chattin’ it up with the woman who put me on in this city and now I’m in panic mode. This chick just sat here and told me everything . I did not know that she was pregnant by my cousin’s husband. Right then and there I knew I had to get her the fuck outta here before Tasha showed up. My slick ass cousin set me up … big time, and now it may be too late. I then knew I was fucked when I got a text message from Tasha telling me that she was in the parking lot and on her way up.
    â€œStephon are you listening to me?” Charli asked me. I was hoping that she didn’t notice the sweat beads popping up across my forehead.
    â€œSorry, babe. Something came up. I got to get up out of here.”
    â€œSomething came up? I just arrived. You invited me and you still haven’t said a word about Las Vegas. I’m all ears but I still have to tell you, Vegas is the big league. Do you really think that you are ready for Vegas?” She had the nerve to look like she was getting comfortable in her seat.
    â€œBabe, I apologize, but this is even more urgent.”
    â€œSame ole Stephon. Then let’s play catch up and do brunch on Sunday. How does that sound?”
    Shit. Will you be around to see Sunday? I stood up. “That sounds like a plan. What spot do you have in mind?”
    â€œLet me surprise you.” Charli smiled at me.
    By the time I locked up my office and turned around, Tasha was coming up the stairs looking as if she was on a mission and looking like a runway model. Where was Hip Hop Weekly to get this picture? She was dressed to the nines in a pair of Antik Denims that hugged her just right. She

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