The Prada Plan 2. Ashley Antoinette
ached, and instead of being a gift of womanhood, it felt more like a curse.
Natalie stood to her feet and walked over to the vanity table. She pulled out the chair and motioned for Leah to sit down.
“I know what will cheer you up, baby. Let Mommy make you feel pretty again.” Mistrust filled Leah’s eyes.
“Come here.”
Leah rose and went to her mother. “It hurt, Mommy,” she said.
“I know, baby. It won’t hurt ever again. I promise,” Natalie replied as she pulled out her makeup brush.
“Let me make your face up. This will make you feel better. You’ll feel special again.”
Leah sat with her hands in her lap, nervously wringing out each finger while her mother applied makeup to her face. As the powder brush tickled her tiny nose, it sent shivers up her spine. She giggled as Natalie pulled out her lipstick tube, and her angry resolve dissolved slightly.
Leah couldn’t help but to be excited, feeling like a grown woman as she admired the job her mother was doing in the mirror. Natalie never allowed her to play in her cosmetics, but today she was applying the makeup to Leah’s face personally. Leah felt like it was her mother’s way of apologizing, and she wanted nothing more than to make things go back to normal. She wanted to be the little girl that her mother used to protect and be proud of.
Ever since they had come to the big city, her mother had changed. What young Leah didn’t understand was that around Slim, Natalie wasn’t the same. She reverted back to the naïve seventeen-year-old whore, desperate for attention and willing to do anything to get it.
“You can even wear my satin robe tonight,” Natalie said as she wrapped the material around Leah’s shoulders, making her smile.
A few days had passed since her vicious beating and Leah’s molestation, but for the first time, Leah felt pretty again, as if the makeup and silky fabric had revamped her demolished spirit. Leah had watched her mother lay in bed crying for days. She had been unable to bring herself to look at her own daughter, but with this change in attitude, Leah was hopeful that her mother loved her again.
Her smile spread all the way across her face when Natalie finally finished. Leah hopped up from the bed and ran to the mirror.
“I’m pretty now, right, Mommy? You made me look like a princess,” Leah said as she jumped up and down while clapping her hands. She couldn’t get enough of herself. It was as if she were seeing herself for the first time as she stared intently at her reflection. She was in awe.
A knock at the door caused Leah to turn away from the mirror, but when she looked at her mother, she frowned in confusion. A pool of fresh tears had gathered in Natalie’s eyes. The look on her face sent a chill through Leah’s body, and her bottom lip began to quiver. It was as if the devil himself had come banging at their door, and an instinctive fear settled into Leah’s bones.
“Mommy?” Leah called out uncertainly.
Natalie didn’t respond as she walked to the door and opened it. A thin, dark man crept inside. The overwhelming stench of his cheap cologne wrapped its scent around Leah’s throat, choking her as her chest heaved up and down in fear. She knew what he was there for. She could tell by the look in her mother’s eyes.
“Here, let me take your jacket, baby. Make you more comfortable.” Natalie slipped her hands across his broad chest and down the sleeves of his jacket before he could respond. It was one of her first official tricks since returning to the city, and it was just like riding a bike—she could never forget how to do it. With a PhD in seduction, she knew that the slightest grazing of her fingertips against the zipper of his pants made him more eager. The more he anticipated the sex, the more money she could get out of him. The more money she made, the more pleased Slim would be.
“I have a little surprise for you, baby,” she whispered. “I hear you like ’em young.”
Leah’s eyes bucked in fear as she saw the man turn her way. All dolled up, she was every pervert’s fantasy, and when she saw the man hand money to Natalie, she knew that she had just been sold—again.
“Where the fuck is he?” Natalie asked as her eyes scanned the digital clock on the nightstand. Slim had called her hours ago, saying that he was coming to pick up his money. She had an entire week’s profit waiting for him, $5,500 to be exact, and she was confident that he would be pleased.
After discovering how much more men would pay to sleep with Leah, she sold her daughter’s innocence repeatedly. The guilt she felt eventually subsided when the money began to pile up, and whenever her conscience crept up on her, she simply drowned it out with her favorite Five O’Clock gin.
“Not even that bitch Dynasty is bringing in this much dough. He’ll see that he needs me,” Natalie told herself as she lit a cigarette to calm her nerves.
When day turned to night and the clock struck midnight, Natalie’s patience had run out. Slim hadn’t shown, and he wasn’t responding to her pages. Anticipation turned to anxiety, which turned into anger.
“That mu’fucka promised he would stop by! He knows I have this money here waiting for him. I’m always last on his list of things to fucking do!” Natalie screamed to herself as she paced back and forth. She was a wreck. Slim was the only man who had ever held power over her emotions. He had a strong hold over her; one that she couldn’t shake, one that she didn’t want to shake, but the unhealthy fixation was causing her to become unstable. She was coming apart at the seams as she nursed her bruised ego with a bottle of cheap gin. Slim’s adoration was worth more than gold to her, and she proved it every time she sacrificed her daughter for the sake of making him a quick dollar.
Leah watched, but remained silent as she witnessed her mother grow more and more agitated. She had learned that it was better to be seen and not heard. Exhaustion plagued her as the hours of the night passed them by, but Leah was too afraid to close her eyes. Too many men had visited her bed in the wee hours for her to ever rest peacefully. She was always on guard, always paranoid, and she no longer trusted her mother to keep her safe. So, as Natalie desperately looked out of the blinds for Slim every few minutes, Leah nervously looked at the door, praying that no one came to hurt her.
This routine lasted for hours, until the sun came up and Leah was too tired to keep her eyes open. With her back against the wall, her head drooped down onto her chest as her mother’s weary red eyes pooled with emotion. She was chasing a man who didn’t want to be caught, and the way he handled her made her feel so unimportant, so dispensable—so unworthy.
“Fuck this,” Natalie whispered. “He doesn’t want to come to me, then I’ma go find his ass.”
She shook Leah out of her sleep. “Get up. We’re going to find your daddy!” she shouted. Leah wiped her eyes and slowly got out of bed. Her mother didn’t even give her time to put on her shoes before she pulled her out the door.
Natalie raced all the way to Slim’s blocks outside of Jimmy’s Bar. She knew that night or day, Slim always watched his money. He had women working all shifts. Rain, sleet, or snow, his ladies worked 24/7, 365. There was money to be made around the clock, and Slim didn’t want to miss a single dollar.
“There that mu’fucka go right there,” Natalie seethed as she parked illegally on the curb and watched Slim walk out of the bar. She was about to call out to him, but when she saw the smile of endearment on his face, she froze. Natalie’s eyes connected the dots between Slim and the target of his affection—Dynasty. Her heart fell out of her chest when she saw him wrap his arm around her shoulders and saw their little girl, Disaya, jump into his arms.
“She’s not even his real daughter! That fucking bastard!” Natalie shouted as she hit her steering wheel furiously.
Leah peered over the steering wheel, and the sight of Slim hugging the girl proudly made her bottom lip tremble. She was working so hard to get the same attention from him. Natalie had promised her that once Slim realized what a good moneymaker she was, he would love her, but