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    Tales From Sha-Hair-Azad:

    These Walls Can Talk

    By Najya Yasirah


    Chapter 12: Dissed



    They talked and laughed the whole night. Deuce Bigalow and his wife, Kate had even joined them. “You sounded great on stage, Reyjah,” said Deuce. “Thank you!” she said. “So how long have you and Antoine been dating?” asked Kate. Antoine and Reyjah looked at each other. They burst out laughing. Kate was confused. “Antoine is my client; I’m a hairdresser,” said Reyjah. “Oh, I just thought..and by the way you two act, it just seemed…,” Kate stammered. “It’s ok,  he’s just the next-door neighbor from hell,” said Reyjah. “And what about you? “ said Antoine, his accent deepening. “The first time I met this woman, she came over to my house in only her underwear. And she is not even my client!” Kate and Deuce shared in the laughter. “What can I say, I like Vickie’s just like the next woman,” said Reyjah. “Where do you work, Reyjah?” asked Deuce. “At Sha-Hair-Azad.” “I work at the hair transplanting clinic near there,” said Kate. “You should come by tomorrow, maybe we can have lunch or something,” said Reyjah. “I could use another friend; Shut up Antoine!” she said before he could say a smart remark.

    Deuce and Kate watched as Antoine and Reyjah danced. “They look really good together, don’t they, Deuce?” said Kate. Kate was tall, slender, and naturally pretty with long, strawberry-blonde hair. Unbeknownst to a lot of people, she had a prosthetic leg. “She seems to like him, but I think she’s realizing her chances of keeping him are practically nil,” said Deuce. “Antoine’s been a manwhore far too long to stop now.” “So you don’t think he likes her?” she asked adjusting the neckline of her purple gown, “Damn, strapless bras never stay up,” she said. Deuce kissed his wife. “You’re so sweet to be concerned Kate, but not everybody has a heart like yours. Some people are just selfish.”

    Reyjah  enjoyed being in Antoine’s embrace. His hands caressed her back. When he spun her around, he dipped her. “Quite the twinkle toes, you are?” she commented. “Or is that part of the job description?” He laughed. He felt a tap on his shoulder. It was a beautiful, brunette woman of about 35 years of age. Her hair was long, like Jane Seymour’s. “Nancy, I didn’t know you were  here,” he said. Nancy Holden was a hotel heiress as well as one of Antoine’s wealthiest clients. “I was wondering who that enchanting woman with the nightingale voice was; I should have known she was your date.” “Reyjah Bennett,” Antoine began, “ This is..” “ Nancy Holden, I’ve read about in the New York Times, you are the quintessential Renaissance woman.” Reyjah shook Ms. Holden’s hand. “What a charming girl, are you from New York?” asked Ms. Holden. “Yes, sorry, I have a bit of an accent,” said Reyjah. “But you are very articulate, my dear, and that cavalier nature of yours will get you very far in life.” Ms. Holden was quite taken with Reyjah. “Thank you, umm Mr. Laconte, why don’t you dance with Ms. Holden? I have to speak with Mr. Giovanni,” said Reyjah. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I still don’t like you, Mr. Laconte,” she scolded. Then she winked. “It was lovely to meet you, Ms. Holden.” “You too, you are such a darling girl.” Reyjah waved as she scurried to find Mr. Giovanni.

    “Mr. Giovanni?” said Reyjah.  She knocked on his open office door. “Yes, please come in, my dear and have a seat.” He was smoking a cigar. She sat down on his white, leather couch. His office was huge, grandiose, even. “As I was saying before, you really brought the house down, tonight,” he said. “Thank you, sir,” she said. “Please, you’re from New York, you don’t have be so timid,” he insisted. “Thank you, Philip,” she corrected. “How was the food?” “Fantastic?” “Expect that every time that you come here.” “Cool.” “Have you thought about my offer?” Reyjah walked over to him at his desk. She sat on it. “Part time, Mr. G. I’m a hairdresser with commitments.” He nodded. “You are a loyal girl, Ms. Bennett. I like that in a person.” “Thanks,” she said smiling. “I’ll be calling you,” said Mr.G as she was on her way out. She waved behind her. “Ms. Bennett?” “Yes?” “The next time you do a high note, please let me know beforehand; 86 champagne flutes were broken tonight.” Reyjah laughed.

    Reyjah sat down with Deuce and Kate. “My feet are killing me,” she said. I hope I don’t get hammertoes.” Kate laughed. “You are so funny, isn’t she funny, Deuce?”  Deuce had fallen asleep. Reyjah giggled. “Deuce?” she said shaking him. “Huh?” he said. “We’d better get going,” said Kate. “I’d better leave, too, my feet are crying!” said Reyjah. “We’ll walk you to your car,” said Kate.

    “Do you have a crush on that woman, Antoine?” asked Ms.Holden while they danced. “What woman?” “Reyjah? “ “Oh, no, she’s just my next door neighbor, and hairdresser..” “And let me guess? Buying her a beautiful gown and bringing her here was a method of payment? I can tell she doesn’t come to places like this.” “She’s a hot wings girl,” Antoine muttered. “And that body?  Oh my, are her breasts natural?” asked Nancy. “I don’t know, I haven’t tasted them yet,” he joked. “But you want to?” she hinted.  He looked away.

    “Thank you, for walking with me,” said Reyjah to the Bigalows. “I’ll see you, tomorrow, Kate.” They waved goodbye. “Kind of rude of Antoine not to see her out,” said Kate as she walked through the parking lot with her husband. “Like I said, Kate, everybody else’s heart isn’t like yours,” replied Deuce. “I think I’m driving us home tonight,” she said to her sleepy husband.

    Reyjah threw her Jimmy Choos in the back seat of her car. She turned on the radio. “Aaaah yeahhh… 1990’s Mariah Carey!” she said as she pulled out of the lot and onto the highway. She noticed that Antoine’s license plate read “GR8LVMKR” on his silver Porsche. She shook her head as she unloosened her hair and let the pins fly everywhere. “Someday…ooh someday..the one you gave away will be the only one your wishing for….” She sang with Mariah.

    “Excuse, me,Eric?” “Yes, signor?” “The young lady that I was with, have you seen her?” “Signor, she just left.” “Thank you.” I screwed up. Not the way I intended, either, thought Antoine.


    Tales From Sha-Hair-Azad: These Walls Can Talk - Chapter 13