“You a bad muthafucka, you know that?”

“Thank you,” I purred modestly.

“I was watchin’ you move on the stage.”

“I know, and thank you for the tips,” I said and ran my hand across his chest. “Do you want me to dance for you?”

“I wanna fuck you,” he demanded more than asked.

I was shocked, but at the same time, not at all surprised at his directness. “It’ll cost you,” I said.

“You ain’t said shit to me, mommy,” he said, sucking his grill. “Why don’t I double what you usually charge? I always gets what I want.”

I looked at him, studying him.

The One was fine as hell, but since I wasn’t plannin’ on fuckin’ him or anybody else in there, I decided to get ridiculous. “Two grand,” I said quickly; thinking that his reaction would be the same as everybody else’s. I thought that he would say I was crazy and have Bullet drag me outta there.

“Why don’t we make it three,” he said with ease.

My eyes lit up. He can’t be serious, I thought. He just couldn’t be. When he started ripping bills from the most massive wad of cash I’d ever seen, I knew The One was no joke. At that moment, I had to make a choice. Three grand just to fuck him? I thought about all the shit I talked to the other dancers about doin’ exactly what I was thinking about doing. I’d taken pride in the fact that I wasn’t that kind of woman. They were lettin’ those drunk-ass niggas have them cheap. I wasn’t goin’ out like that. I was a dancer; an entertainer, not a ho.

“So, what’s it gonna be, mommy?”

Three grand. I nodded my head slowly and began eating my words.

“Get your shit then, we outta here,” The One said and nodded at Bullet. He stood up and escorted me to the dressing room, and waited outside like a sentry while I got dressed. I thought I could still change my mind and tell Bullet to tell The One, thanks, but no thanks, Miss Kitty don’t roll like that, but then I took a swallow of Henny and knew that wasn’t gonna happen.