Drama Is Her Middle Name by Wendy Williams Read Free Book Online Page A

away?”
    â€œWhat didn’t?” Both men burst out laughing.
    Chas and Ivan spent the night talking about everyone in
the room, including Ivan’s friend who brought him. Gerard
was getting to know one of the men he was watching. The
room was getting quite crowded.
    Chas thought Ivan was going to lose it when the star point
guard from an NBA team walked into the room.
    â€œGet the fuck out here!” Ivan said. “I had no idea!”
    â€œHow could you
not
know that?” Chas said. “Hell, man,
there are so many undercover brothers in the NBA, it would
shock the hell out of you if I started naming names.”
    The phrase “down low” had not yet officially made its way
into popular vernacular—it had not become a nationwide
phenomenon yet. But the practice had been around since the
Roman days, since the days before Caligula.
    These seemingly straight men who seemingly enjoyed
women but who also liked the company of men were not new
to Chas. Most of the men he hooked up with fit this category,
and he liked it that way. It was yet another way for him to be
invisible. His male companions had too much to lose to be
known as gay, as did just about every man in the room with
Chas and Ivan that night. There were star ballers, investment bankers, entrepreneurs, and even one famous but fading soul singer—all living out their wildest fantasies or just
satisfying a physical need. But all doing so undercover on the
down low.
    â€œThis evening turned out to be quite interesting after all,”
Ivan said, after having downed his third Belvedere.
    â€œHow long are you going to be in town?” Chas asked.
    â€œOh, only a couple more days. I have to get back to work.
Things are starting to heat up for me there.”
    â€œWell, maybe we can get together before you leave,” Chas
said. “I’ll show you another side to New York. It’ll be fun.”
    They exchanged numbers and Ivan got up to get his things.
He was ready to go. Chas stayed around to take some mental
notes. He was getting a blueprint for his own club. He made
sure to pay attention to what was working—like the intimate
bar area where people could get to know one another. And
the things that didn’t work so well—like the bottoms-up
room. “That’s just too much,” he thought. “They can take
that shit to a hotel room. Who can really get loose in an environment like that?”
    A year later, Chas created the Spy Zone. His list would be
so exclusive that there wouldn’t be a list. Members only. The
way to become a member was a secret. Chas’s club was harder
to get into than joining the Masons—the white Masons. It
was harder to get into the Spy Zone than for Mo’Nique to
squeeze her fat ass into a pair of size-four panties. The membership fee started at ten thousand dollars a month, and Chas
planned to increase it each year.
    Chas put a lot of money back into the club, with its secret
entrances, tunnels, and exits. He made sure everything, from
the open bar with the most expensive selections to the linens,
was top of the line. The Spy Zone was open only once a
week. The other days, Chas spent at various straight clubs
around the city. Those nights were more for his amusement.
    On one such night, Chas met Ritz Harper. She was still
doing nights. She wasn’t yet the dynamo she eventually turned
into. But for Chas, there was something special about this
woman. He was hanging out at his favorite spot—next to the
deejay’s booth—as this harried vision came in like a bat out
of hell. Ritz always came late.
    â€œRitz Harper,” Chas muttered to himself, and smiled. Few
people knew what Ritz looked like, but Chas was really into
the whole entertainment game. He loved the players and
loved watching the plays. Ritz wasn’t a real player yet, but
Chas saw the potential.
    Ritz was doing a promotional