He Who Is a Friend (Sadik Book 1)

by Love Belvin

  The musical selection transitioned into another, ripping my eyes from Bilan to the printed program rolled up in my hand. According to it, Ameerah was on her last piece, an original titled, “Lone Tabby.” It was from her first album published under L.I.T. Music. An emotional ballad. One I found myself sipping brown juice to in a dark room when raindrops pelted the damn window. It had been a while, but watching Ameerah perform it reminded me how transcendent music is. No matter what format, great emotion could be felt from it.

  My eyes traveled over to Bilan next to me and grew wide before catching myself. Streams of emotions trailed down her face as her eyes were fixed to the stage and mouth hung ajar. Something in my damn belly leaped, my arms strangely wanting to do the same. Why would I comfort her? Why would I care? Could it be because it was another piece of proof of her innocence? The same factor making me want to spend time with her, although I knew it was wrong?

  The song ended and the lights came up, ending the show. The room stood in applause, Bilan and myself included. For the first time since the show began, she looked my way.

  “Oh, my God.” She dried her face and laughed at herself for crying at the same time. “Thank you for this. I can’t believe I saw Ameerah live.”

  See…

  There it was again. That innocence she had about her. It made my damn lungs burn. Out of nowhere, I was out of breath as bodies moved around us.

  “So, you dig Ameerah?”

  Bilan nodded, still emotional. “A friend of mine introduced me to her work three years ago. We were in a music class together. The ‘smart kids’ were discussing her catalogue, and I had no idea who she was. I’ve been hooked ever since. When she signed with L.I.T. Music, I was happy as though it was my deal. That ‘Lone Tabby’ piece is one of my favorites—probably the favorite. It’s crazy she finished the show with it. Let’s just say, I get what all the buzz was about.” She rolled her eyes. “And, of course, I’m forever indebted to the friend.” She couldn’t hide her smile.

  I knew I shouldn’t ask. “Who?”

  Her eyes widened. “Who what?”

  “Who is the friend, who put you on to Ameerah?”

  Bilan swiped the back of her neck, uncomfortably looking toward the stage. Then she faced me again, a gleam of defiance in her eyes. “Ready to talk about Ms. Lia?”

  Touché…

  Not having the words to respond with, I grabbed her hand, starting out of the theater.

  “If it’s not too much, I need the bathroom before we head back to the airport,” I heard her almost squeal behind me, timidly.

  Once I located Rory and Lamont, I tossed my chin down a hall opposite the entrance. Rory nodded, tapped Lamont and began making their way. There was a line for the ladies’ room when we arrived.

  “I’ll wait right over there for you.” I pointed across the hall near tall potted plants. “I have a few calls to make.”

  “I’m sorry,” Bilan recoiled. “I hope I’m not holding us up.”

  I kissed her forehead, unbothered by the inconveniences she may have conjured. “Take your time.”

  By the time I made it over to my security, Rory was handing me a phone.

  “Pops,” she murmured.

  I tapped the phone, hitting him back.

  “Yeah,” he growled into the phone, alerting me of his mood.

  My leaving the way I did earlier would not be forgotten anytime soon.

  “You called?”

  “Fuckin’ Iban pulled out on one of Rizzo’s capos.”

  Fuck!

  My gaze swept across the hall, reigning in my temper. “Where?”

  “In Scotch Plains, at one of Rizzo’s houses.”

  “What happened?”

  “Said he was there with Lia and the muthafucka started poppin’ off disrespectful to Iban. You know we don’t stand down for no under-bosses. More than that, you know how much of a fuckin’ hothead your brother is!” he shouted. My father was angry. It was typical for him to be heated with Iban, but not likely to have a beef with the both of us at the same time. “And I ain’t got a flying fuckin’ clue what his ass was doing there. You know?”

  Yeah. Lia…

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  There was an abbreviated pause before he pushed. “You better, or I will.”

  I dropped the phone, knowing my father hung up right away. It was his thing. Then I went into my text thread.

  “Sadik!” someone in front of me called out in surprise. I glanced up to find Hyacinth, a face I hadn’t seen in some time. “Shit! It’s you!” She began to make her way over to me, cutting the sea of people trying to leave the restroom for the exit.

  I quickly typed into my phone a text to my big brother.

  Me: Pack ya fuckin bags. We leave in the morning.

  I was done by the time Hyacinth made it to me. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she sang, reaching up for a hug.

  I reciprocated. “How are you, girl?”

  “I’m good, love.” Hyacinth’s eyes perused my security next to me. “Does she know you’re here?”

  My forehead wrinkled. “Nah. I heard about the show last week and saw I had time to come through.”

  “You have to come back and say hello!” Her eyes were wild with excitement. I didn’t fly down here to see Ameerah personally, only to catch her show. “The dressing room is right around the corner. Come on!”

  Saying no would have been rude. Going wasn’t the biggest deal. I glanced over my shoulder and, right away, Rory stepped up to go.

  “Nah. I’ll be right back.” I tossed my chin. “Stay here for when she comes out the bathroom.”

  “I ain’t no babysitter, bruh,” Rory snarled. “He could stay for shortie. She’ll be a’ight.”

  I took a deep breath, knowing how fucking stubborn Rory could be with women in my life—and Bilan was not in my life. It didn’t matter; Rory wasn’t fond of her.

  I tossed my chin to Lamont. “Keep an eye out. I’ll be right back.”

  He nodded as Hyacinth wrapped herself around my arm. “She’s gonna be so psyched!”

  She was accurate when she said the dressing room wasn’t far. Before I knew it, Hyacinth was pushing through a door. Inside were people bustling around. Ameerah’s little frame was in a director’s chair, face getting wiped down. I remained outside, my phones blowing up with alerts and calls.

  Iban: Daddy called you?

  As I was typing a response, the door opened and a big blonde afro swept out. She was beautiful with just half a face of makeup.

  Her eyes went wild when they landed on me. “Sadik?”

  Those dimples were as stark as ever.

  “What’s up, young lady?” I reached down when her arms shot up in the air to embrace me.

  “Holy shit!” she screeched into my chest. “How long has it been?”

  I let go and smiled. “It’s been a minute. I see things are going well for you, as they should.”

  Her smile deepened. “Thanks, man. You always believed in me.” Her whisper was wistful.

  “It’s easy to with your talent. Now, you’re selling out shows, and shit.”

  She took a deep breath, shoulders rising as she beamed. “It’s been great times mixed in with the bullshit.”

  “Ahhhh.” I nodded, pushing my hands into my suit pants pockets. “But what did I tell you about the ride of success?”

  “Grind hard and you’ll be hit with more good days than bad.”

  My nodding continued and as we gazed at each other, I could tell her memories of our friendship were fond. Mine were, too, but I didn’t romanticize fucking. I appreciated great moments of chemistry with a woman and moved on. Ameerah came with a lot of baggage. I met her through a mutual friend, close to five years ago. She was doing orchestra gigs in New York City, a starving artist with a goddamn pedo for a manager. I never judged; she loved him. But he was too much for her, too hard on her. Dude was possessive. Unfortunately for him, he ran up on her one night while she was with me.
He thought his mature looks and manager title would give him weight. I beat the shit out of his old, Spanish Santa Claus ass.

  Ameerah didn’t take to kindly to that. Even after all the crying she’d done about his possessiveness and controlling nature. He started fucking her the last night of her years as a minor: the night before her eighteenth birthday. He cheated on her, manipulated her mind to sharpen her talent. She would cry in my arms at night after fucking and smoking a fat ass blunt—that was Ameerah’s thing. But when he grabbed her up from a table at a club where she was with me, I had to show him I was an Ellis.

  Ameerah called me the next day, saying our five-month affair was over. She couldn’t “betray Alejandro” that way. My guilt was over how little I cared if she stayed or left my life. I only wanted her safe. Nonetheless, I never reached back. My life had been devoted to building a name for myself aside from my father’s legacy. There was no time to play Captain-Save-Her to a broken girl, who sold her soul to her mentor.

  So, as I peered down on her now, all those memories of years ago coming back in spades, I had to be proud of my decision to let her go. Besides, there wasn’t much I could offer her back then. Shit. My life was such that I had nothing to offer a real relationship now. Being in love wasn’t a state I was familiar with, though I’d cared for several women in my life. I guessed Ameerah could be considered one of them.

  Her eyes strained as her dimpled cheeks twitched. “Let’s go for a drink. I just need to shower.” She licked her lips.

  “Diner,” Rory coughed into her hands, and I knew what that meant.

  I turned to see Bilan’s eyes wild and nervous as Ameerah’s ‘fro came into vision to her. Damn…her naivety was a fucking aphrodisiac. When she was at my side, Lamont a few feet behind her, I took Bilan at the small of her back.

  “Bilan, this is Ameerah. Ameerah, this is a friend of mine—” I leaned down toward Bilan’s ear. “Can I call you friend yet?”

  Her eyes crawled up to mine. She blinked, slightly taken and somewhat annoyed. “Stop it,” she mumbled, fighting a grin.

  “Ameerah,” I continued. “This is Bilan.”

  I couldn’t look away from Bilan, still in flirt mode. She made teasing her fun. I caught her smile fade as she observed Ameerah. My regard swept over to the musician and found her, too…unsmiling.

  “Thanks for the show,” Bilan covered my hand with hers, detaching me from her body. “It was amazing. I’ll wait for you outside.”

  When Bilan turned to leave, I caught her arm, pulling it through my palm until I clasped my fingers with hers to keep her from going. I looked over to Ameerah again, whose eyes were on our laced fingers.

  “The show was amazing. Take care, sweetheart.” My parting words to Ameerah were brief as to not leave an extra moment for Bilan to pull away, causing a scene.

  As I passed Bilan up on the way to the entrance, I caught Rory’s angry glare on me. I knew what she was thinking.

  Since when did I give a fuck about the feelings of a woman I didn’t know?

  It was time to get Bilan home.

  ∞10∞

  We made it to the limo in complete silence. Not even his security team uttered a word. For once, I wasn’t the only one brewing after an obvious “incident” we both experienced. Similar to earlier when we left the doctor’s office, Sadik sat back in his seat, the arch of his index and thumb pinching those sheen lips I tended to get stuck at. His kaleidoscope-hued eyes scanned out the window. He was ruminating—possibly upset. But with me? I didn’t do anything wrong. The more time I spent with him today, I realized how one-sided Sadik’s views were as far as I was concerned. He had brute tendencies, and if I didn’t stand up for myself, I’d get run over by them. Once again, I found myself not caring if we hung out together again. I wanted to be respected.

  “It would’ve been nice to get a heads up on going to see your ex-girlfriend. You got some kind of jealousy fetish?”

  He scoffed, sexy smile in tow, but anger teeming beneath the beautiful mask. “Excuse me?”

  “Ameerah. It didn’t take a historian to figure out you’ve slept together. The poor girl looked as though her ice cream cone melted in her hands the moment you pulled me to your side.”

  “Sweetheart, I don’t need to give you or anybody else a heads up about who I’ve slept with.”

  “Don’t call me that!”

  “What?”

  “Sweetheart! It’s what you called her. You can call her that. You’ve slept with her, not me.”

  “I’ll call you anything you’d like. Didn’t know you were keeping score.”

  “Keeping score of what?” I spat.

  “Of how I reference people I’ve fucked.”

  “I don’t know who you’ve fucked.”

  He dropped his arm and chin. “You’re right, Bilan. You don’t. Neither do I care for you to know. And just like you’ve made it perfectly clear, I haven’t fucked you, so there’s nothing left of the matter to speak about.”

  I tossed myself deeper into the leather bench, crossing my arms to hold myself. He’d efficaciously ended the conversation, and that revved my anger even more. He went back to cogitating and I brooded, wiggling my ankle the same way my mother used to when she got pissed with my dad or brother. After a few minutes, I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “You want the clothes back?”

  Sadik’s head shook as he blinked softly. “Nah, Bilan.”

  “They all still have the tags on them, including this fancy MEEHAR gown. So, why?”

  “Because I can’t fit them, Bilan.”

  “You can still get your money back. I’m sure the small fortune you spent could help pay for this private plane you rented for the night.”

  What was wrong with me? Why did I want to see him as angry as I’d felt?

  Am I really angry?

  Sadik exhaled, that stupid sexy smile mild, but present. “It’s a jet and not just a plane. And I didn’t rent the jet.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m just putting it out there. You can have the phone back, too.”

  His sharp intake of air jostled me as he shifted up in his seat, eyes slightly narrowed. “What can I do to make these next few hours as pleasant as possible?”

  I’d chaffed at his nerves. His tone and posture gave it away.

  “What?”

  “This flight. Clearly, we’ve veered into a red area. I don’t know how, but I’ll be the mature party to try to navigate us to peaceful waters.”

  That stung. And look at me… I was sitting with crossed arms, pouting. I was sure I looked a childish sight. Aside from his aggressiveness with the doctor and introducing me to a person who’d had the type of relationship with him I’d recently fantasized about, Sadik had been very nice to me. Generous, too. Clearly, this was not the way to behave toward a man who’d made so many romantic gestures. Still, I didn’t have an answer for why the Ameerah thing pissed me off.

  “I’m sorry,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes again.

  He smiled with his teeth this time. Less energy, but a brighter disposition as he moved across the car to sit next to me.

  “Well, it’s nice to know I have company in the apology department.” His hand slid over my arms, pulling them apart. He cupped my fist, bringing it over to his hard thigh. “I’ll try to get you home without upsetting you again.”

  Okay. I feel like crap…

  My eyes squeezed closed in the low lighting of the limo. “This is all new to me.”

  “What is?”

  “This. The gown, shoes…clothes, makeup, celebrity stylist ‘hair,’ private jet, and even the invitation. I don’t date.”

  “That makes two of us.” I could feel his phones vibrating between us in his pocket, but Sadik didn’t move to tend to them.

  “You can answer,” I referred to his phones.

  “Nah. I’m okay.” His tone was forlorn as he gazed out of the window opposite of me.

  Yup. I screwed this up. And I had no clue when I did or how to fix
it, so I sulked until we arrived at the airport. We pulled in front of the small building, where the limo was taken over by someone else. Sadik didn’t hold my hand this time, but he was still a gentleman, allowing me to take the steps up into the “jet” ahead of him while he held the back of my gown.

  By the time we sat in the middle section of the cargo, my stomach began to eat itself, I was so hungry. Jeremy appeared right away offering a beverage before takeoff. Sadik ordered more brandy while gazing into his phone. I wanted food, but was too embarrassed to ask. I checked my phone during liftoff, ignoring the drink before me. Tasche sent a few memes and my cousin, Joslyn, sent a text about her mom, my aunt Franzel, wanting to acknowledge my graduation this summer during their annual beach week at the shore. Wow…I got an invitation. I replied with an empty, churning belly by thanking and reminding her Abshir would be home this summer as well, in case she wanted to incorporate the two.

  After completing that task and breezing through Facebook and Twitter, Jeremy appeared again. The sight of him made me salivate.

  “Are you two ready for dessert—”

  “Yeah!” I answered too hastily.

  Sadik lifted his head from the laptop Rory had brought in just before we reached the clouds. His forehead wrinkled, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he gave an affirmative nod to the flight attendant. When I was sure he’d gone back to his work, I squeezed my eyes in embarrassment. For more reasons than one, this guy was way over my head. As much of a Neanderthal as he had been today, I had to admit, Sadik was a man. One of class, worldly experience, and wealth. Even now, he showed dedication to whatever business he was taking care of on his MacBook.

  “Here we go,” Jeremy quietly announced, carrying a tray into the section.

  I couldn’t be happier to see his face. My hands scrambled to put my phone away and pull up the tray table attached to my chair. The most beautiful crème brûlée in an oval ivory porcelain bowl was laid before me. The presentation was too pretty to eat. However, my raging tummy said otherwise.