Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick(48)
When they went into the jewelry store, she picked out a doppio cuore pendant in 18-karat white gold with full diamonds and a pair of 5-karat diamond studs. She began wondering just how much money Supreme had, as he pulled out wads of cash to pay for the high-priced clothing and other items she’d picked out. The tremendous spending didn’t seem to faze him one bit.
By early evening, Apple had about a half-dozen bags in her hands and was ready to shop some more, so she dumped them into the trunk of the truck and continued shopping. Supreme had bought Apple Chanel sandals, Christian Louboutin stilettos, Gucci bags, Diesel jeans, Diane Von Furstenberg dresses, and items as simple as a Prada wallet to hold all the cash he was going to throw her way.
In Supreme’s eyes, Apple was becoming his young protégé. He didn’t mind spending money on her. It was an investment to him, with a greater interest later on. Supreme was always about money, and he liked Apple’s style.
After shopping, they had drinks and dinner at Sea Catch Restaurant, right off M Street. Apple was taken aback by its stone walls and narrow archways. The raw bar afforded a serene view of the canal and its towpath. In the dining room, oil-burning candles were situated on the sphere-shaped tables, and there was a 40-foot oak backed by a rough stone wall.
Supreme and Apple dined on the deck overlooking the canal. She had one of the live Maine lobsters that were in the tank by the door, and he ate the filet mignon and walnut-crusted chicken breast.
After dinner, they retreated to their suite at the Gaylord Resort, where Apple tried on her items of clothing and jewelry. She stared at herself in the mirror, finally thinking she was on the come-up. She had clothing and jewelry that would easily outdo anything Kola owned. Apple wished Kola was around so she could boast about her new clothes.
Supreme rested on the bed, watching Apple with a smile. “Try on some of the lingerie I bought you,” he suggested.
Ready to please him with a show, she willingly went into the bathroom to become eye-candy for him for the evening. She stripped from her stylish outfit and slipped into a black stretch lace micro-chemise with the off-the-shoulder scalloped neckline and body-conscious shape. She stepped out of the bathroom with a pair of clear stilettos to top off the outfit and slowly modeled for Supreme where he sat.
“Nice.” He nodded in approval and watched how her curves complemented the lingerie she wore. “Nice.”
“So I take it you like the way it looks on me.”
“I’m ready to take it off you.”
Apple smiled and then went back into the bathroom to try on another scanty outfit for Supreme. She wiggled out of the first and easily slipped into a red flyaway baby doll in a mix of sheer silk chiffon and lush velvet, with the velvet burnout bikini beneath. She put on some fiery red pumps to match. She walked out of the bathroom feeling like a queen bee.
Supreme loved this outfit even more.“Yeah, I like that one, baby. It looks so good on you.”
Apple smiled. She loved it too. She loved it so much that when she went back into the bathroom, she stared at herself for a long moment and thought about her future. Apple was sure of one thing. She didn’t want to go back to her old way of living—broke, unemployed, and scared. Even though she and Supreme had their bitter differences, he made her feel special, like his queen, and opened her up to a whole new world. It seemed like, overnight, she had gone from an unspeakable nightmare to a living Cinderella. She looked at her image strongly and vowed to never go back to her old way of living; it was too painful. She wasn’t going to ever be that poor nigger girl coming up in the ghetto. She had gotten a taste of the good life, with the shopping spree, touring DC, and dining at classy restaurants, and yearned for more.
CHAPTER 18
One Month Later . . .
Harlem was in a full-blown heat wave. The streets felt like they were melting, and the sun felt like it was personally giving Harlem a bear hug. Fire hydrants were on full blast on almost every block, with children and some adults trying to keep cool. Other residents downed ice-cold bottles of water, some in little to no clothing, putting themselves at risk of getting arrested for indecency, the men walking around shirtless, the women in short shorts and skirts, revealing tops, and flip-flops.
The streets had been calm, violence somewhat on the low, but the tension between the two rival crews was still felt in the air. It could’ve been the calm before the storm. At any rate, police were on constant patrol, trying to keep the streets safe.
After having been gone for a month, Apple returned to Harlem a transformed woman. She enjoyed living it up in DC with Supreme and took advantage of the best her new life had to offer. She had forgotten about her family for a moment, but when she went to visit her mother, she was quickly reminded of the harsh reality she’d left behind.
Supreme accompanied Apple into her old apartment. When she entered the place, it still looked the same. Nothing had changed—the dirt, the clutter, the roaches.
Denise was in the kitchen smoking a Newport, when she noticed her daughter walk into the room. She eyed Apple from head to toe, noticing the sudden change, and for a quick moment thought Apple was Kola. But a mother could always tell her twins apart. Apple was profiling in a short, stylish skirt, a tight Fendi top, thousand-dollar shoes, and her jewelry gleamed like the sun itself.
Denise screwed up her face, and with a growl in her voice, she said to Apple, “So the f*ckin’ chicken comes back home to roost.” She took a long pull from her cigarette and kept her eyes steady on Apple. Then she sharply turned them on Supreme, who stood in the center of the kitchen doorway looking nonchalant.