Reese immediately felt like someone had superimposed a jackass’s head over hers. For what she had subjected herself to to sleep with the celebrity, there hadn’t been a dime in it for her. The night she had slept with Don B. and his crew, she had been too high to remember the first rule of thumb: Cash for ass.

“I’m saying, he was so much of a gentleman that I didn’t even crack for no paper. I’m setting him up for the long con,” Reese fronted.

“Reese, this is me you’re talking to,” Rhonda said seriously. “I’m your bitch, so I’m always gonna keep it funky with you, and I hope you’d do the same with me. Girl, you can’t even spell ‘long con’, let alone pull it off. You probably got in there with Don B. and got starstruck, that’s why you didn’t crack for no paper.”

“Rhonda, you got some nerve. You act like you’re the only one who got game.”

“Reese, everyone has got game in them somewhere, but if you can’t apply that shit to your life, it don’t count for nothing. I tell you bitches all the time that it’s all about execution. These niggaz gotta pay like they weigh, ma.”

“Whatever, Rhonda. Contrary to what you believe, everybody ain’t out to sell their pussy. Why can’t I just fuck a nigga ’cause I like him?”

“Contrary,” Rhonda repeated, chuckling, “I like that one. Not for nothing, while you’re trying to sound educated, you’re still moving like a fool.” Rhonda saw anger flash in Reese’s eyes, so she explained herself. “Reese, me and you been tight for too long for me to try and sugarcoat shit to try and spare your feelings. You and I both know what Don B. is about, so don’t go thinking that through some miracle that he might consider wife’n you. He’s just like the rest of these niggaz out here, trying to get a nut. Niggaz like him expect to spend paper for a shot of that, so we’re only doing what’s right by demanding our due.”

“All you ever think about is the come-up.”

“You muthafucking right. If I’m gonna lay with a nigga that’s not my man, please believe he’s setting it out. Like my girl Lil’ Kim said, ‘Fuck niggaz, get money.’ That’s the real anthem. It’s not like he’s a regular Joe, that nigga is a platinum artist!”

“Anyway,” Reese said, letting Rhonda know she didn’t want to talk about it anymore, “I wasn’t the only one with a celeb, what popped off with you and True?”

“You know I did me, ho. Rhonda gets hers. But the funny shit was how Von rolled up while True was leaving.”

“Stop playing!”