Page 4 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming
“I know. I’m working on it. It’s hard to finally let go of the series after all these years,” Aimee says.
“I know. I’m not looking forward to endingThe Queen’s Dilemma.”
Unlike Bridget’s fantasy series, Aimee’s adult fairytale series, are rooted in a real life, painful experience. She’s been saying she’s going to endThe Prince’s Journeyfor a while, and earlier this year, she made an official announcement on social media that quickly went viral.
Aimee shakes her head. “Enough of the wretched queen, on to more important things. It’s Lyric’s turn for kudos.”
“That pink makes your skin pop!” Bridget gushes.
Lyric is wearing a soft pink asymmetrical neck ruffle trim dress with matching stilettos, red bottoms, of course. Her hair is full of body and is giving Vanessa Williams on the cover of her albumThe Right Stuff. Her make up shimmers with light pink hues on her lips, eyes and cheeks. She looks like a pink princess and feels like one, too.
“Lyric, what can I say? Your ravishing beauty is always breathtaking.” Suchi blows her a kiss.
Lyric curtsies. “Why, thank you.” This garners her some smiles. “Well, ladies. Let’s hit it!”
The women exitthe hotel to find a horse-drawn carriage outside, the coachman waiting beside it with a sign that reads Fuqua.
“Ric, you got us a carriage ride?” Bridget grins.
“Big Head did,” Lyric replies. “He insisted actually. He’s paid for a lot of stuff for this trip. Sooch, he’d kill me for saying this, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you told Aunt Shereeta about his generosity.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind at all.” Suchi turns to Lyric while petting one of the horses.
Big Head has a crush on Suchi’s aunt. She’s not even his woman and he don’t play about her. The only thing stopping those crazy kids is that she’s still legally married.
The ladies climb into the carriage and take a group selfie.
The carriage ride is magical. They take pictures as they ride to Jackson Square and check out the numerous buskers doing magic tricks and playing jazz. The coach man pulls over and they make their way into the square and dance with each other. Soon, other tourists join them. One man gets a bit too familiar withLyric and thrusts his hips against her ass. She turns and looks at him with venom in her eyes.
“You want to back the fuck up, please,” she snaps.
“Damn, baby, you ain’t got to be so mean.” He gives her a lecherous smile. His skin is saggy, so either he’s old as hell or has been living a hard life. It’s also ashen and his eyes are sunken. He scans Lyric from head to toe. His leer makes her skin crawl, and his breath makes her stomach gurgle.
“Nigga, I said ‘please.’” Lyric takes her phone out her clutch.
“Oh, what? So you gon’ call the police on a brother? You Black bitches ain’t worth shit.” He spits. “I was trying to be nice and take you back to my place, but your ass ain’t even that fine. Where’s your little light skin friend with the glasses?”
Lyric is incensed, not because this thing insulted her looks, but because he wants to try and fuck with Aimee. She watches as he scans the crowd and spots her.
“You see, now I was going to let your zombie-looking, stank breath, ashy, dry ass sausage-lip having ass off with a warning, but you had to try a fuck with my girl.” Lyric sends the code 911 into her phone and within seconds her girls have assembled.
“You okay, Ric?” Bridget asks.
“No, this motherfucker disrespected me and said he was going to push up on Aimee.”
Aimee looks at him like he has three heads and lets out a snort.
“Oh, I see your ass is a stuck-up bitch like your friend.”
If there’s one thing Lyric hates, it’s an ugly-ass man with audacity.
“Call us bitches one more time,” Lyric says.
“What the fuck are you going to do?”
“Not me, but those two big ass niggas behind you are going to do something,” she replies.
Zombie man turns around and sees Roc and Pete standing behind him looking like two human shaped brick walls.
