Now back in the states, Aisha rested up from her trip in the new
Aisha was headed to a club called The Urban Revue. This was the same club that Bonz frequented according to her main source
Pampering her body with a long soak in the tub, Aisha closed her eyes and hummed to herself among the scented bubbles. She was in no hurry. Guys like Bonz were night owls. They rarely got to the clubs before .
The colder the water got, the colder Aisha’s heart became. She needed it to turn artic in order to fulfill her plans.
“Pat, don’t rub. Then moisturize,” Aisha rehearsed aloud as she dried her body twenty minutes later. That was the way Alyce taught her to take care of her skin after bathing. Following her mother’s advice kept Aisha’s skin smooth and soft.
Going over to her closet, Aisha went directly to a backless gold cami top, a pair of low-cut black gaucho pants, and a pair of gold and black stilettos. This outfit was one of many man-catching assembles she recently purchased overseas. No use playing a part without having the proper wardrobe, right?
The gold and black outfit was sexy without being slutty. Meaning, it only showed what Aisha wanted it to show—the flawless skin on her back, the fullness of her bust, flatness of her stomach, and the curviness of her bottom. All were things that made her a favorite among photographers and designers who were turning away from anorexic-looking models in search of healthier body types. Body types that regular women could identify with.
“All right, little piggies, get in there,” Aisha told her manicured toes as she bent to slip on the classy stilettos. Each piglet was gold painted to match her outfit and the gold and black purse she bought as an accessory.
When she was finally ready to go, Aisha gave herself a final once-over in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. Her outfit was immaculate, her makeup flawless, and her mid-back length tresses didn’t reveal a hair out of place.
“All right, girl, you got the right bait. Now it’s time to go throw out your line, hook that fish, and reel him in,” Aisha told her reflection, mimicking a fisherman’s hand movements as she talked. Then after putting her registered gun in her purse, she headed out the door.
© 2005 by Suprina Frazier