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It seemed that she was a little early. When one depended on public transportation to get around, it was best to be early than to be late. In the hood, it seemed like city buses came when they wanted to. There was no rhyme or reason to their schedules.
    As Shantell looked around the desolate block, she noticed another young woman approaching. She would bet her last dollar that the young woman was coming to the exact same place. One didn’t have to be a psychic to figure that out. There was nothing else around, except warehouses and factories.
    “Hey,” the young lady spoke. “You been waiting here long?”
    Shantell replied, “Not that long.”
    Shantell wasn’t big on talking to strangers; she was a loner. She had trouble trusting people. She preferred to keep it brief when dealing with them. She only spoke when spoken to, and she didn’t volunteer any information. It was a tough task trying to get Shantell to engage in a conversation.
    For some reason, the young lady didn’t take hints well. She continued to attempt to strike up a conversation, which turned out to be one-sided in her favor.
    “You auditioning today huh? Where you from? What’s your name? How old are you? You got kids?” The girl continued to pester her.
    Though Shantell didn’t particularly care to talk, the girl almost forced the words out of Shantell’s mouth with her indepth line of questions. Against her better judgment, Shantell began to take a liking to the girl.
    “Damn, you sure ask a lot of questions,” Shantell hinted. “And I don’t even know yo’ name?”
    The young lady’s smile deflected any signs of hostility that may have been in the air. She was thick skinned with a good sense of humor. Dee-Dee felt like if she talked to anybody long enough, she would make them like her. Dee-Dee thought she was so likable, even the Klan would like her. Dee-Dee knew she could be a pest at times; that was the only knock against her.
    If she befriended you, though, one had a friend to the end. A fair-weather friend she wasn’t.
    “My bad! My name is Denise. Denise Daniels. But everybody calls me Dee-Dee.”
    “Well, Dee-Dee, meet Shantell,” she announced. “How the hell are you?”
    Shantell straightened up and offered the girl a handshake. Dee-Dee accepted and Shantell leaned back up against the wall. There, she was comfortable and content. From her position on the wall, Shantell proceeded to answer all of Dee-Dee’s questions; plus, she managed to sneak in a few of her own. Before the two women knew it, they had begun to click. Shantell found out that Dee-Dee’s background was similar to hers. They both came from the hood, and each had faced adversity in different ways.
    While they talked Shantell gave Dee-Dee the once-over. She had to admit that Dee-Dee had the goods. She was tall but not lanky. She stood approximately 5’10” with short hair, big bubbly eyes, and a mind-blowing body. Every part of Dee-Dee was big, butt her body came together nicely; each part complimented the other. The amazing thing about her was she was elegant, not clumsy. She carried herself very well. Shantell was impressed by her beauty and the way she carried herself. Shel gave credit where it was due.
    From out of nowhere, a black Mercedes Benz S500 suddenly appeared. As it pulled into the small makeshift parking lot, all conversation ceased between the girls. All eyes were on the beautiful foreign sedan and its occupant. The girls were almost certain that this was Tommy, the club’s owner, manager, crisis counselor and anything else one could think of. Who else could it be, pulling up to a strip club early in the afternoon?
    Tommy was a hustler from the old school. He had made his money and his mark on the streets of Charlotte, way before these two were even born. Well into his forties, Tommy was old enough to be both these girls’ father; and the way he spread himself around, he quite possibly could be.
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    The thing Tommy never did was mix business