For the Love of Money by Omar Tyree Read Free Book Online Page A

called at just the right time. Mike had the kind of employment, as a weight trainer with Philadelphia sports jocks, where he had money and plenty of time on his hands. He was always bragging about who he worked with, and who played for the Eagles, the Sixers, or the Phillies. I didn’t really pay the shit any mind, myself, because once I grew up and went away to college, I learned to appreciate the power of making my own damn money and not sweating some rich assholes who are mostly out for a pussy chase. Not that
all
of them were like that, but you know what I mean,
and
you know the kind of women who chase them. Nevertheless, I was still a woman and sex was sex. It was good for the soul.
    I cut straight through the chase. “What are you doing right now? You have any free time?”
    â€œLater on tonight, but not right now,” Mike answered.
    I didn’t want to set up anything for later though. What if I didn’t feel like it later on? Or what if I wanted to start planning things for LA. I didn’t need a man in the way of that, especially if he knew that I was going somewhere. Mike tried to play the role like he could be as straight business as I was about our loose relationship, but I knew that he really liked me, and itwould all come out as soon as he knew I was planning to relocate. I could already predict his response.
    â€œWell, try and call me later on then,” I told him.
    â€œWhy don’t we just set a time?”
    â€œWhy don’t we just leave it open?” I asked him instead. “And if we close it, then we close it later on?”
    He chuckled again and said, “You’re a hard woman to break, you know that?”
    He knew what time it was, and he knew that he couldn’t hold me down.
    I said, “I’m as hard as those damn weights you lift,” just to rub it in. I owed that all to Mr. Victor Hinson, or Qadeer Muhammad, as he called himself, for leaving me hanging like he did after getting out of jail and hooking up with someone else.
    â€œYou gon’ need to soften up
sometime.
Like when I put my hands on you, and everything else,” Mike teased me.
    What would a man be without a good comeback line, right? I just laughed at him.
    â€œWell, we’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”
    â€œAw’ight then. We’ll play it your way.”
    I hung up the phone, and my energy had already settled a bit. I laid back on my bed, still in my bra and panties, and relaxed. Suddenly, I felt kinky. I decided to take my bra and panties off, and turn my oscillating fan on low, and let it blow over my naked body in bed, as I daydreamed of how sweet my future would be out in Hollywood, because Hollywood got swingers.
    You want this?
I asked a chocolate, baldheaded man in my daydream.
    Yes.
All
of it,
he told me.
    I spread my legs wider with my right knee up and stroked my stomach with a sexy grin.
    Well, come and get it then.
    I just relaxed with my daydream and let my fan blow me up and down.
    $   $   $
    I never did hook up with Mike that night. I went to the movies by myself instead, and began doing research on the whole Hollywood name game, you know, who was doing what and who was successful at it. Mike wanted to accompany me on my poetry night that Thursday, but I never took any men to my readings. I didn’t want to be stuck with him if a deep,
deep
brother did his thing up onstage and I decided to seduce him right there on the spot.Well, the shit never happened because a lot of poetic brothers, who I came in contact with, either brought their own women to the readings, were too artistically busy to just chill, or were unorganized and full of themselves, so no one ever qualified, and that
hunk
of a man, Philadelphia’s own Wadud, was happily married already.
    I guess I was always fantasizing about something. Hollywood was the perfect place for me.
    Right when I grabbed my bag in my seventies-inspired poetry