The 80s

Flaws and All

She giggled. "Thank you girl."

"I told Prince all about you so come come come dahling, I hope you like Italian." I pulled her into the dining room and let her pick a seat. As I was setting up the table we talked about everything from dancing, music, the hottest discos, boys. Everything. She's really cool.

I heard Prince's heels clicking down the stairs as I was setting the table. He has a maid and a cook and all these extra people to take care of him. I do my own laundry (unless it's stage clothes), cook my own meals (unless we go out), and I clean my own house from top to bottom. I'm naturally a homemaker, not like i'm home enough for it to get dirty but that's not the point.

He strutted in, one hand tucked in his pocket with a satisfied look on his face. I raised my brows. "So i'm guessing he liked the song"

"Liked it?" He raised his brow cockily. "Funkiest song he's every heard. What can I say, i'm the man." He held both his arms out in glory.

I slapped him in the chest. "Boy whatever, go get the napkins."

He chuckled. "Alright babe." He started off but stopped mid-stride before turning around.

"Problem?"

"I need you kitchen."

I rolled my eyes, resting my hands on my hips. "You know where the damn napkins are, you ain't helpless."

"No its' not that. I just need to ask you something dear."

I cut my eyes at him."What did you do?"

"Girl if you don't get in this damn kitchen." He gritted through his teeth. I scrunched my face up as he dragged me in by my arm.

I snatched my arm back once we got out of sight. "What the fuck man..."

"Who is that sitting at the table?"

"Nigga you....you couldn't ask her what her name was?"

"Uh bitch you invited her. I don't wanna talk to her then I wake up in the middle on the night and you got a knife to my nuts."

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the last part. "Catherine Glover if you must know. She's the dancer I told you about........ the black one.."

He twisted his face at me, sensing my shade. "Fuck you mean by that..."

"Oh please all you surround yourself with its white women and latinas."

He dropped his jaw, cutting his eyes at me. "I do not. I work with plenty black women."

"Mixed girls don't count, Prince."

"They're still black Jasmyn."

I glared at him. "You know that's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean."

"What I mean you ass is that you glorify white women."

"I do not!!" Prince snapped at me.

"Yes you do!!" I retorted. "You glorify white women."