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    Tales From Sha-Hair-Azad

    By Najya Yasirah


    Who’s That Girl? - Chapter 17



    “Who is that lovely woman with Antoine?” asked a woman in a red dress. “She looks too young to be a customer,” said her friend. Antoine was going to hate himself later. He was going sleep with the hostess of the party, while the party went on.  He brought Reyjah along to sing a few songs while he did his deed. That way, no one would suspect anything. Nancy Holden, was a hotel heiress. Antoine had had sex in many of her hotels free of charge. Tonight, he would receive $20,000. His heart nagged at him every time he looked at Reyjah smile or laugh. She had been a wonderful friend, so far and he sincerely hoped that one day she would fall in love with him. Nancy Holden saw the couple in the distance. She was 35 years old and was not an ugly woman. Everything was surgically enhanced, but it looked fantastic. Her brown hair was very long, like Jane Seymour’s.  Her hunter green dress had spaghetti straps and a draped back. It was made of silk and moved when she walked. Her breast implants were standing perfect attention. “Antoine, so glad you could come to my birthday party,” she said kissing Antoine on the cheek. “And who is your friend?” “This is Reyjah Bennett,  my hairdresser and my new best friend,” he said. “Reyjah, this is …Ms. Nancy Holden, you are absolutely divine,” said Reyjah in awe. “You can’t be any older than 26.” “Oh, you are a charming girl, I’ll be sure to tell my plastic surgeon,” said Nancy, tickled by her sweetness. “Will you excuse me for a moment,” said Reyjah. She went to find the powder room. When she was out of earshot, Nancy said, “You remember where the master bedroom is, and you remember the shortcut?” He nodded. “Are you sure you want to do this? That girl is absolutely beautiful.” “She is only a friend and she does not care what I do.” Nancy sensed that he was holding back.

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    Reyjah was singing slow songs while the  couples  danced, Antoine and Ms. Holden were in her room handling business. After he was done, he did something that no one had ever seen before. He cried. Ms. Holden understood, but she gave him the money anyway.

    Reyjah almost knocked Antoine over. “Oh, there you are,” she said. She hugged him. He held her very close to him. She reveled in their closeness. “You are my best friend, Antoine, thank you so much for tonight.” She kissed him tenderly on the cheek and it almost killed him.

    “You look so beautiful,” he said. They were doing the tango. “I owe it all to you,” she said smiling. “You are beautiful regardless of anything that I could ever do,” he said. She was back in his arms again. When he dipped her, he looked into her blue eyes. For some reason, he looked so sad. They continued dancing, soon the floor cleared, People steeped back and gave them room. They were in perfect step as if they had practiced for hours. "They are so perfect together,” said a lady to Ms. Holden. Ms. Holden agreed. She could tell that they adored each other, but they were both holding back. When the song was over, they bowed to the applause. She hugged him. “Ms. Bennett, may I have a word with you?” said Ms. Holden. She looked at Antoine with a ‘don’t worry’ face. “Why, of course, Ms. Holden,” said Reyjah.  Nancy Holden took Reyjah out to the patio. “Antoine tells me that you are from New York,” Nancy began as she sipped her glass of wine. “Yes, I am,” Reyjah said proudly. “And that you’re a hairdresser?” “That is correct.” “So you might say, that your attitude is as sharp as your razor?” “At times.” “Dear, I have many rich friends who would pay any price for a kind, caring hairstylist. You were kind enough to entertain my guests, and I would like to refer as many people as possible to your salon.” “Oh my!” “Starting with me, I’ll be there at 10:00 sharp, Thursday, I feel that Wednesday is your day off.” “Thursday it is!”

    Her head was in Antoine’s lap as they rode back home in the limo. She had fallen asleep. He caressed the back of her neck. He looked down at her pretty face. She had been so trusting and he used her. He felt like such an ass. He looked at the contours of her body as it lay wrapped in brown satin and blue crystals. In her sleep, she turned so that her face was looking up at him. He stroked her temple, her jaw and her lips. He wanted to reach down and engulf her lips with is. But he didn’t deserve her love. No one did.

    Tales From Sha-Hair-Azad - Chapter 18