I met Tariq at Glam two weekends after I met James. Tariq was from New Jersey. He was dressed in slacks and a dress shirt when we met, a grown and sexy type of dude. I was looking fly like I always did in a name-brand something. He offered to buy me a drink.

“How old are you, beautiful?” Grown and Sexy asked.

“Twenty-two,” I lied.

“Where are you from?”

“Philly,” I responded. People who weren’t from Philly assumed nobody was because they were the only ones who asked where you were from.

“Oh, I’m from Jersey,” he volunteered.

“What brought you to Philly…” I motioned for him to tell me his name.

“Tariq, with a q at the end,” he said. “I heard about this club, and me and my boys wanted to check it out.”

“What do you do for a living, Tariq?” I got straight to the point. Usually I could tell what a guy did from one look, but he was confusing me.

“I’m a realtor. I own property,” he said with confidence as he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a stack of crisp bills folded neatly together in a silver money clip. He removed a business card that contained all of his contact information from off the top of the bills and handed it to me slowly, making sure I got a glimpse of his cash.

Tariq was something new for me but, hell, he was worth a try. He wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, but he wasn’t butt-ugly either. He was definitely different from what I was used to. Tariq was a typical educated businessman. He was always talking to me about investing, buying property, stocks, and all that other “plan for your future” shit. I really wasn’t into that, but I pretended to be interested and we wound up having somewhat of a substantial relationship.

The year had begun just right. Exciting and busy. My world was just beginning. I had three dudes. O was my hustler from Delaware. James was my baller from Philly. Tariq was my businessman from New Jersey. I was up but, I must admit, it was hard trying to juggle three guys.