"Charese would have never thought that her life would come crashing down around her, that everything would fall apart right before her very eyes. Hell, she was what most niggas would call a bad bitch. She made sure that all of her shit was official and well put together. She was one of the most popular dancers at the club she worked at, Club Fantasy. She was Charese or Reesy to her friends and family, but known as Moet by the club patrons. She was bad, at least in her eyes. You couldn't tell her shit. She was beautiful and she knew it. She stood at 5'5; she was one hundred and forty-five pounds, thick thighs, and perky 34C cups, long, jet-black hair, a fat ass, and blemish free mocha chocolate skin. She shouldn't have even been at the club, but everyone falls on hard times. She just wanted to get her money right and live her dreams. Her dream was to own a hair salon. She reached her goal; she just wished she didn't have to go through the things she went through to get there. She was trying to rush through traffic so that she could make it back to the salon on time. It was four fifteen and she was already running behind because she had a four thirty appointment. She was at a red light when she turned and locked eyes with Bryce. Bryce Westland-- the man that used to make her pussy tingle and her panties wet from thinking of him alone. She looked away and thanked God the light turned green. She thought back to when they used to kick it, back before shit changed" -- introductory pages.