Rockstar Savages

by Dixon, Ja'Nese

  Who was he? Why did she feel drawn to him? Why was she wasting her time thinking about a man only sent to determine if her company was fit for his investment?

  Carmela pushed her bonnet from her eyes and reached for her cellphone. She stared long and hard, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “Whatever…”

  Carmela opened the messenger app on her phone. The best way to satisfy her curiosity was to go to the source.

  I hate the saying, Curiosity killed the cat. Carmela laid on her back, hoping he’d bite.

  Less than a minute later, the bubbles on the screen appeared then disappeared. Why?

  She shrugged knowing he couldn’t see her. Glad he couldn’t see her because he’d get a good laugh at her bonnet again. She smiled typing, I guess it makes no sense when we all know cats have nine lives.

  I’d have to ask that you don’t speak for us all on that one La.

  “Wise ass.” Carmela laughed, sitting up in her bed. She crossed her legs not ashamed to tell herself how much she liked when he called her La. Then she noticed the bubbles, so she waited.

  What are you doing awake?

  Can’t sleep. The clock said 4:15. Why was he awake?

  What’s on your mind?

  You, but deleted it before she accidentally sent it. It was too forward. This was when her lack of dating got in the way. She spent the majority of her time around men. The only female she hung around was Nicki and Nicki was basically like one of the guys too.

  La, stop deleted your messages.

  She typed, I think you zapped my braincells. She tossed the phone on the bed. There she sent it.

  Then her phone started ringing and vibrating.

  It was him.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you always say the first thing that comes to your mind?” The laughter in his voice made her smile.

  “Not normally, hence the zapping.”

  “You’re nothing like I expected.”

  “Is that a good or bad thing?” She fell back on the bed with the cellphone beside her head. She tugged on her sleeve, popping her thumb in and out of the thumbhole.

  “Neither. It’s a you thing.”

  She smiled. “Are you flirting with me Mr. Washington?”

  Jamal laughed richly, “Says the woman texting me at four in the morning.”

  “That is not an answer.”

  “And you say I’m bossy.”

  Carmela said it in the haze of sleep. But his approach was more about his confidence. People did what he asked, because he was the asker.

  “I’m waiting.”

  “I’ll answer under one condition.” His voice dropped and that insistent hum that kept her from falling asleep turned up a notch.

  “What’s the condition?”

  Carmela held her breath. The question now sat between them.

  “Tell me why you text me tonight.” The deep timber of his voice gripped her heart and squeezed.

  Jamal waited, the comforting silence surging them together. So she decided to tell him the truth, even though he’d warned her that he wasn’t the keeping kind.

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  * * *

  “Do you know what you’re doing Carmela?” Jamal sat wide awake across town fighting the urge to return to her home.

  “No, but something tells me I should say it anyway.”

  “Something?” He questioned, although his feelings matched hers.

  “My gut, intuition, instinct, my spidy-sense…whatever you call it. There’s something about you.”

  “La…” He ran a hand over his face, fighting with himself. Her confession mirrored the thoughts that kept him awake tonight. “I can’t let personal feeling complicate or persuade my professional opinion. I work hard to keep the two separate. It makes for a clean break when relationships run their course.”

  “Who said anything about a relationship? My career is my life at the moment. I tour more than I’m home. I haven’t had a successful relationship in never. And most men eventually tire of seeing me more via FaceTime than in person. At present, my life is a shit-show, which I’m telling Jamal personally, not professionally. But shows pay the bills, so the road it is. It comes with my life.”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  “How about we start with dinner?” The tone of her voice made her dimpled smile cross his mind.

  “La, sweetheart, not like that.”

  “What you can’t take a woman asking you out?”

  “Relax, I got you.” He walked over to the window overlooking the city.

  “What planet are you living on? Mars?”

  He shook his head. This woman. “La, we will go out. But I’ll do the asking.”

  “I’m tight on time and I leave for a week tomorrow.”

  “Thanks for the update, but I’m apparently not like the men in your past.” Jamal smiled anticipating the cat and mouse game he’d play with Carmela. Beneath the weight of her crazy life he knew there was a passionate woman, and he planned to take his time unwrapping her like an obscenely-expensive gift.

  “Is this more of your voodoo?” The sultry tone in her voice made him lower to the chair.

  “Nah, baby. Truth.”

  “So, what type of man are you?” Her challenge awakened the man in him.

  “All I need is the location, and I’m there.”

  “Oh, well let me give you all my addresses.”

  They laughed and flirted and talked until the sun greeted him. They said their goodbyes. He sat alone wondering, What just happened?

  Cameron’s haunting words were his only companion in the presidential suite. The right woman will make you want to be the right man to have her. His heart stopped.

  “I have to start drinking bottle water.”

  Jamal meant his words. He wasn’t the keeping kind. He wasn’t the marrying kind. But he took care of his women. And he knew without hesitation that he would charter a plane to be next to Carmela, even if it defied every logical bone in his body.

  Damn, he had it bad.

  * * *

  Carmela stared at the phone. Jamal was right. He wasn’t the normal caliber of man she dealt with. She was more of the around-the-way type girl. But a man with the means and determination to pursue her was foreign.

  “Knock, knock.”

  Carmela jumped. “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s time for us to review your wardrobe.” Nicki leaned against the doorway.

  Carmela couldn’t believe they’d talked for almost three hours. It started with a lot of flirting. Then it shifted to general getting to know you type conversation.

  “What is that look?” Nicki walked in the room sitting on the end of her bed.

  “What look?” Snap out of it La.

  “Girl, you know…that look.” Nicki pointed at her like Carmela could see her own face.

  “Girl you trippin’.” Carmela tossed back the covers, crossing the room. “Start breakfast, and I’ll be there in a second.”

  “You can keep your little secret for now.”

  Carmela didn’t have to turn around to know Nicki was rolling her neck with too much attitude for seven o’clock in the morning. “Bye Nic, and don’t burn the bacon.”

  Carmela showered and dressed in her usual. She grabbed her bag, heading to the kitchen.

  When Richard remodeled the house, he built the kitchen of her mother’s dreams. It was fully decked out with the best appliances. She had a double oven, plate warmer, wine chiller. It was a culinary dream. But Carmela couldn’t cook. Not even if her life depended on it.

  “Nicki, why do I not smell bacon?”

  “Because I’m not your cook.”

  Carmela entered the kitchen wondering if she would have learned to cook had her mother been alive. Without hesitation she knew the answer was yes. Her mother was an amazing good. She would have insisted that Carmela learn all of her secret recipes.

  “You do know that one day you’ll have to l
earn how to cook.” Nicki said, as the rattle of cereal hitting the glass bowl bought Carmela back to her non-bacon breakfast.

  “Cooking requires time in the kitchen. Time I don’t have. Now pass the bowl.”

  They sat at the island eating and got to work on the options for the shows. Carmela had three shows with the same set. One day she hoped to afford taking Nicki with her full time. But for now, Nicki staged out all the outfits and she worked out the details on the road based on Polaroid pictures.

  “How did rehearsal go yesterday?” Nicki asked after laying the last picture next to the others on the cutting table.

  “It went better than expected. Especially after Richard and Marcel decided to ghost us.”

  “Ghost you?”

  “Yep, no show. Richard text about a vacation and Marcel said nothing.”

  “And that’s why I don’t deal with his punk ass.”

  Carmela glanced over not surprised.

  “Sorry La, that’s your brother. But he needs to learn to be his own man.”

  Richard doesn’t like Nicki, he said she was ghetto and any other colorful terms he could find. Carmela reasoned Nicki reminded him of who they were and their life before the music industry.

  “He will one day.”

  “By the time he figures it out, I’ll be gone. Richard threatens you and you stand up to him.”

  “Barely.”

  “Barely is more than folding. I need a man who is not going to feel ashamed because his daddy doesn’t like me. Ouch.” She stuck her thumb in her mouth.

  Carmela grabbed a tissue and kneeled down beside Nicki. “Nic, I know he cares.”

  Nicki shook her head brushing away her tears with the back of her hand. “He ain’t fooling me La. He has his head so far up Richard’s ass that he can’t see that we are worth it. So, I have to move on.”

  “Are we back on the ass thing? I thought we’d at least make it to nine o’clock.”

  “Girl you know I have a daily quota to fulfill,” her voice broke.

  Carmela folded the tissue in Nicki’s hand with pulled her into a tight hug. She ached for her friend and Marcel. Love never seemed to find the people most deserving, or it was cut off too soon.

  Carmela couldn’t think of one couple who were “successful” in their relationship. Her parents were it. Then her mother died and Richard became a shell of the father who raised her.

  “Now let’s get back to work before Jamal arrives.”

  “Jamal.” Nicki pulled back.

  “Long story.” Carmela teased walking over to grab the next outfit.

  “Well you better hurry your ass up, because I want all the details.”

  Carmela dressed in the bathroom.

  “When did Mr. Washington become Jamal?”

  “I took your advice.”

  “It’s about damn time.”

  “Do you want to hear the details or not?” She yelled through the closed door.

  “Hurry up. You talk too slow.”

  “Anyway, I went to his hotel and took him to breakfast. And we talked.” Carmela stepped out and walked over to the mirror.

  “How was it?” Nicki adjusted the fabric pinning where the size didn’t meet her standards.

  “Different.”

  “Hurry child, hurry.”

  “Nic—” Carmela spun around.

  “Don’t make me poke you with this pin. Stand still. What was different? Did you talk too much? Is he a playa? Did he disgust you? Which is humanly impossible for a man to look that good and not at least have some redeeming qualities. Hell, I’d sit at the table just to look at his fine ass.”

  “I quit!” Carmela threw up her hands.

  “Get back here La.” Nicki sat back in the chaise lounge laughing while Carmela went to change again. “I’ll stop. Finish.”

  Carmela glanced around the doorway. “I don’t believe you for a second.”

  They worked while Carmela filled Nicki in on Jamal’s evaluation, Richard walking out, and Marcel being a no show.

  “Why does all the good stuff happen when I’m gone?”

  “There’s nothing good about this. These men are driving me insane.”

  “Jamal too?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  “No, he helped with the rehearsal yesterday, drove me home, and made sure I had dinner.”

  “All alpha and shit!” Nicki shook like a chill ran through her body.

  Carmela sent a warning glare to her friend.

  “What at least I didn’t say ass.” Then she started twerking singing the Big Sean song. All Carmela could do was laugh, letting the tears roll down her face. Her very animated friend added color and creativity and sisterhood to her life with her ass shaking and all.

  After an hour more of fussing and running their mouths, the costumes for the set were pinned. Nicki planned to stay behind and work in the sewing room while Carmela headed to rehearsal. The doorbell rang.

  “That’s him.” They said in unison.

  Carmela felt like a twelve year old with her first crush.

  “I’ll get to work in here. You go get your man.” Nicki pushed her towards the door.

  “He’s not my man.” Because as he said he wasn’t the keeping kind. Did it mean he wasn’t the boyfriend kind either? Maybe she’d ask.

  “He would be if you learned how to—”

  “Bye Nic! Love you.” Not wanting Nicki to twerk her way to the door was all the motivation Carmela needed to make her way to the door.

  “Call me later girl.”

  Carmela laughed to the door. She opened it wide and his smile greeted her.

  “Jamal, do you sleep in that suit?”

  He dropped his head, and the shake of his shoulders brightened her morning. So, she decided to bask in his company.

  “May I come in beautiful?” Jamal ran hand over his beard, sliding the other lazily into his pocket. He wasn’t a keeper and neither was she. But two negatives made a positive. And in her life of constant drama, she’d take it.

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter 13

  Jamal stepped inside and reached for her waist. He pulled her against his chest happy that she didn’t deny him the opportunity to hold her.

  “You should be exhausted.”

  “I’ll sleep on the bus. Come on, let me get you set up.” She clutched his hand in both of hers, stopping once they reached a dining room table. The warmth of her hands felt oddly foreign yet familiar. “Welcome to my conference room. I know you wanted to start with our books. I pulled out what I could find.”

  “Is this everything?” Jamal scanned the room. One end of the table held cardboard file boxes.

  “I doubt it, judging by the dates on the outside.” Carmela removed a lid, pushing the contents around. Then she moved on to another. “I don’t usually handle the paperwork.”

  “Mind if I get comfortable.”

  “Not at all.” She smiled over her shoulder and continued searching through the boxes. “I have rehearsal but Nicki is back in the sewing room. Actually, would you like a tour? It’s not what it used to be, but it’s home.”

  “I’d love it.”

  “Right this way.”

  Jamal dropped his jacket on the back of a chair and took her extended hand. “The team moved in almost a year ago. So, my home turned into our headquarters for music and the nonprofit.” She opened a door and stepped aside. “This is the sewing room.”

  “Good morning, Nicki.” He shook her hand.

  “You remembered.”

  “Absolutely. How are you today?”

  “I can’t complain.” She held up a handful of black fabric. “I get to do what I love. So are you here to help my friend?”

  “Nic…”

  Jamal squeezed Carmela’s hand. “It’s all right. That’s my plan. Time will tell.”

  “I talk a lot of mess.” Nicki glanced over at Carmela, her feisty smile dimmed. “But I’m here all day if you need me. I’m just glad you’re willing to tr
y. La deserves it.”

  “Nicki, don’t you dare.”

  “What?” Nicki shooed off Carmela’s attempt to hug her. “Now, get out. I have work to do. Unless you plan to perform in your unmentionables.”

  “Jamal, let’s go.”

  He laughed all the way down the hall. He’d laughed more since meeting Carmela than he had in years. Jamal loved the way they teased each other.

  “How long have you two been friends?”

  “A lifetime.” She stopped resting her back against a wall. “We met in elementary. She’d the only friendship I’ve managed to maintain with my hectic schedule.”

  “You’re lucky.”

  “Yeah, she’s a keeper.” She had no idea how sexy her voice sound. She sound more like a soul singer than a rapper. Her eyes settled on his mouth and then his eyes.

  “For the record, this is a bad idea.” He stepped closer attracted to the heat like a moth to a flame, incapable of resisting.

  “Bossy, fine, and sensible.” Her head tilted to the side. “I sort of made a decision this morning.”

  Jamal shook his head. “Do I want to know what you’ve decided La?”

  “Of course.”

  “You have my undivided attention.” Her face softened. “What did you decide sweetheart?”

  “First, that I love when you call me sweetheart.”

  “And second?” Jamal glanced away, sure she was the one practicing voodoo, because this woman was more than he expected.

  “Second,” Carmela placed her hands on his cheeks. “I plan to enjoy ever moment of getting to know you.”

  “And when its over?”

  “I’ll go back to my stuffy, boring life.” She said with an exasperated sigh.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “What’s not to believe?” A flash of humor crossed her face, she shrugged, fiddling with his tied. “It may be pushy, and too fast too soon, and absolutely no pressure. But this sort of feels like sunshine after endless rain.”

  “No pressure?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  “Carmela, I can’t let my personal feeling interfere with my professional assessment. My partners are trusting me.”

  “I understand.” She stepped back, and he missed her already. “Let’s set some ground rules.”