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Rated: E · Draft · Drama · #2144374
just felt like writing
Every day was the same. Work all day. Come home,(to an empty apartment). Eat, (alone). As shot of tequilla, (her favorite drink), A long, hot, bath. Work some more. Let the T.V watch her, (for an hour), and then sleep. Sleep was the only place where she could find any excitement. Her dreams were always vivid. Her dreams, was where she LIVED. This is where she traveled. Had a family of her own. Be a wife to a loving, handsome, faithful, strong man. Where she became an arrogant, gorgeous, aggressive, stone-cold bitch, who also owned her own clothing line. Fired the weak, hired the fierce, as she took over the fashion industry, one flawless design at a time. Apologizing to no one. Answering to self. Feeling no sympathy for those who got crushed, trying to live up to the standards that she had set for many. They thrived to achieve or match her status but all have failed at the attempt to create a piece, that would be admired and in demand, by the most famous and wealthiest people in the world. Talizza was her name. Madame Lizz was the name of her alter ego. The name of the woman who controlled her dreams. She was Madame Lizz envious shadow. To polite. Talizza was not a bitch. She was not a dog. She was what dogs chased.
Talizza was a kitten. Soft, needy, timid. Afraid of everything, even her own voice. The only thing Madame Lizz and she had in common was their creativity. Talizza worked in the fashion industry as an impeccable designer, who needed her ass whooped (pardon my French) for allowing her boss, (SherRay BoMash), to take credit for all of her work. Talizza knew all of what took place in the company she slaved at, (NoShaym Fashions inc.), but allowed it because of three things. No spine, awesome pay, and fear. She feared her boss. Not only was SherRay more of a bitch than Madame Lizz has yet to become. She was also ruthless. There were many stories of those who have crossed Ms. BoMash and how they all have……well.... disappeared. She was also one, out of the top 20, wealthiest people in America. Dark chocolate skin. Mid-length, jet-black, natural, curly hair,(that was much longer if straightened). Cat-eyes, 5'11, all legs, 220lbs, of thickness, in all the right places. Full pouty lips with a tongue that would rip you into pieces so small... that you could never put back together, if she chose to verbally break you down, (which she did to others quite often). With Talizza as her designer, she stayed dressed in the sexiest, classiest, sluttiest outfits and suits she could wear without breaking the business casual fashion code (which pretty much-allowed anything but flipflops and excessive jewelry). Talizza was ordinary. Peanut butter complexion with a cute face, 5'7, 135lbs. Curvy but nothing to really brag about. Short hair, she kept in weave braids (not sure if she was trying to grow her hair or hide how thin and damaged it was. The only eyes who saw her hair natural was the African beautician. Even though she was a terrific designer, she wore the threads of a carefree hippie, all the time. Flowered shirts /dresses and saggy jeans, mostly, earth tones or solid colors that never stood out.
Talizza was the oldest out of three girls. Her mom took off to follow her dreams as a "golddigger", who refused to let children hold her back any longer. At age 17, she became the role model her sisters needed in order for them to stay in school and become successful. Which they did. Now 29 and still feeling a fire that was never released, her days became more irritable as she dreamt of ways to release the flame that burned secretly inside. She was a virgin. Afraid to have men around her sisters and mad at what men turned her mom into, she never wanted to date. She has had a few male friends but one compliment too many, if their touches became too friendly... away she went. When she looked at men, she looked at everything they had to offer. If missing one thing, like most humans are, she dismissed them. She didn’t believe in standards being too high, she believed in selling yourself short. She believed that one guy would blind you and block you from your true destiny and destroy the gift between her legs, that was made just for him (her future husband). She knew what men wanted and the games they played to get it. She was always sharp, skeptical, and focused on loving her sisters the way her mom never could. Talizza never knew her dad. She figured her mom chased him away being too friendly and unappreciative. Her mom told her stories about him. Talking down on how he could provide her needs and not her wants. Not knowing how stupid she sounded to Talizza. Talizza has met her moms' boyfriends in the past. Even as a child, she could see her mom was paying a price to high for the things she "wanted". She would rather work than let a man provide for her as she gave her soul in return. Her sisters moved out. One happily married, owning several restaurants in every major city, called "The E-Spot" and the other an RN, just graduating and currently working at the UofI hospital in Chicago. They both called every day, checking on their big sis to make sure she was breathing and not in need of anything. They loved Talizza.
Today was going to be a busy day at work. "Talizzy! You're still at home.You are a fucking snail. If I find anyone as talented as you, that moves 2 seconds faster, I am going to have that bitch, bring your shit to you. I would've replaced you months ago if I wasn't too busy to go down to the ghetto and snatch another you fresh out of one them little community colleges your slow ass came from. You're allowing all these compliments to go to your head. Showing me less respect as I sign your checks. The meeting starts in less than an hour, you know you got this rookie here and you two should've been almost finished with the display. If either one of you fuck this up.... you better hope... your piece of shit putt-putt make it or I won't even give you a letter of recommendation as I throw your ass out. Simple bitch." Click. "I could've moved faster if your fat ass could've just shut the fuck up!" Talizza yelled, after making sure her boss had hung up.Talizza flew around the apartment to gather everything she would need. Locking the place down, shuting down the stairs, and running to the car…..SMASH!!!... "Whhoooaa!!!! Slow down little one," said a deep, country voice, she heard from above. She was on the freshly waxed, marble floor, almost out the door of the condo. Her belongings everywhere in the pine-scented hallway. The voice.... made her moist. That was a first!. It took forever for eyes to reach his, as he stood 6'6, smooth chocolate, dark hair, and eyes, almost black. Wow. He was handsome. He stretched out his hand to help her up. She rolled on all fours to pick up her things and to hide her blushing. "I am so sorry. I was rushing to my …." "No. No. No. I don’t see a sorry thing in sight. Madame, let me help you." he said cutting off her explanation. "What did you call me?" "Madame. My name is Grand. Grand BoMash. I just rented this place right here." he said smiling showing all his perfect 32. "I'm Madame... I mean I'm Talizza Young. I live upstairs. Are you related to or married to a SherRay?" she asked. "Umm! That’s my little sister. You know her?"_
TO BE CONT>>>>>>
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2144374-Man-of-Her-Dreams