Tales From Sha-Hair-Azad
By Najya Yasirah
Disclaimer: Antoine Laconte, kate, deuce bigalow- they ain’t mine. Everybody else is my property. I am not getting any kind of $$$.
This story is rated R – kids go away, strong sexual content.
Please send comments to lilchikieboo@yahoo.com or lilchikieboo@hotmail.com
The picture of Antoine was borrowed from Arwen's Screencap website.
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What A Way To Start The Morning - Prologue
Reyjah really hated the West Coast. The air was smoggy, it was always hot, and traffic was always backed up. When her alarm clock buzzed at 5:30, she groaned. Nevertheless, she dragged her muscular physique out of bed. After almost tripping on her new, blue and silver Nikes, she ambled to her huge bathroom. She looked in the mirror. She was a beautiful, African –American woman with almond-shaped eyes, high cheekbones and full lips. She stroked her finger along the arch of her eyebrows. “It’s time for a shape up,” she groaned. She looked at her long, just relaxed hair. It had taken her a few years, and about 75 different weaves to get it to finally grow back from a horrible incident in beauty school. It fell to the middle of her back. After brushing it smooth and pulling it into a ponytail, she went back into her room in search of a sport bra and shorts. “Where did I put.... Oh here it is.” She muttered. She really needed to clean her room. After changing into a pale blue sports bra, and black shorts, she put on her new sneakers and ran down the stairs of her spacious, two-story home. She grabbed her Discman from the blue, Oriental sofa and went outside. Her housing area was quiet. Not like her old neighborhood in New York. She put on her headphones and pushed “play”. After stretching a little, she began her morning run.
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Antoine Laconte lived three blocks up the street from Reyjah. Antoine was a self-employed gigolo, and a very rich one at that. He had the most beautiful mansion in the neighborhood. Reyjah always used his house as a stopping point for her run. That morning, he was walking out with one of his best customers, a blonde woman in her 40’s. Her youth was pretty much enhanced by plastic surgery. Antoine could not stand the woman, but in his world, money talked. As they stood by her red Maserati, they seemed to be in an argument. From the distance, Reyjah noticed two figures in the dark of the dawn. She didn’t know Antoine, and Antoine did not know her. But he had seen her running every morning since she had moved there. He had noticed how she ran with long strides and how her legs were very defined. “Antoine, are you listening to me?” said the woman in an exasperated tone. Antoine had been ignoring her. “Yes, Darlene?” he said, annoyed. “I said I am falling in love with you.” She said. “You make me feel young, again.” Antoine shook his head. “Sorry, Antoine Laconte does not fall in love,” he retorted, coldly. “We have had this argument, before.” He opened the car door for her. “And the answer is still the same.” In a huff, she slammed the door and pushed the gas. She began swerving as she yelled curses at Antoine. Reyjah had been so caught up in her music; she didn’t notice the headlights coming from the wrong side of the road. “Oh…!!!”she said. Antoine saw it all! Reyjah tried to move out of the way, but she was too late. She felt her body hit the windshield and roll over onto the hard ground. Darlene stopped her car. Antoine ran over to her. Reyjah grimaced in pain. Her Discman had flown off and broken. “Damn, “ she said. “That thing was thirty bucks. “ As she laid in the grass holding on to her right knee, Antoine began fussing at Darlene. “What the hell were you doing?” he said angrily. “You can’t go around driving like that! You could have killed someone!!!” Darlene did not answer. Instead, she slapped Antoine, and looked at Reyjah saying, “She looks fine to me,,hey, are you okay? Are you dead?” she asked out of false concern. Reyjah gave her a dirty look. “See,” she said. Antoine grabbed Darlene. “You, my dear are a cruel, uncaring plastic bitch.” Darlene glowered at him. She got back into her car and sped off. Antoine watched as she drove off. Reyjah slowly got back to her feet, with her broken CD player in hand. “Are you, alright?” he asked, sincerely as he met her halfway. He could not make out what she looked like even though the sun was beginning to rise. She could not see him, either, and frankly, she hoped she never would. “Ow,” she said. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she muttered. “Please, let me put some ice on your knee?” He offered. He held her around the waist. “You do realize that I am pissed?” she said. “I would understand if you were,” he said. “And that I could sue?” she added. Antoine nodded. “Please, let me make it up to you?” With no arguments, she allowed it.