by Nako
“When we get back, I’ll give you a day or two to settle in and then you have a meeting with a publicist that owes me a favor. Then, I’m bringing in some different producers to see what direction we’re going to take you in.”
He was honestly still trying to see what lane she was in, or even better…would they create one for her. Mahogany had an edge to her that could be spun in the right way because she was beautiful. She wanted to rap about getting over on niggas and he wanted her to switch it up on some boss bitch, “I got my own money and don’t need yours,” type shit. The goal was for her to sit in sessions with several producers and writers to create a mixture of songs and then have one big listening party with some of his most trusted friends in the industry to get their feedback.
Porter rubbed the back of her hand as the plane took off. Kareem was already fast asleep due to it being so early in the morning. All she did was slip on his shoes, Porter toted him to the car and onto the plane.
“I’m ready when you are.”
The plan that he had in place sounded good to her, plus she trusted him. He was an expert at developing artists.
“All those goals and dreams you told me about, I want you to write em’ down in your phone and keep it forever. Screenshot it, make it your wallpaper and screensaver.”
She did it immediately and then asked him, “What does this do?”
“We’re on our phones more than we care to admit. So, imagine over time if you see your goals, let’s say about four hundred times a day. Think about how often you pick up your phone in a twenty-four-hour time span…that’s a lot, right?”
He continued, “Looking at your goals over time will implant them into your brain and you’re destined to accomplish them.”
She was always amazed by him. It felt good to be with someone that you could grow with. She was forever learning new shit from Porter. If they ever went their separate ways, he had left his mark on her and that was facts. Mahogany would never date another scrub. Like, if a nigga couldn’t bring his own table beside hers, then she wasn’t interested. She’ll never in life waste her time, energy, affection or attention on another nigga that couldn’t motivate or inspire her. Porter was a vibe. He was a complete mood that couldn’t be duplicated. He gave her more than butterflies, he gave her life. She wouldn’t make any apologies for how he made her feel. When you experienced a real man after dealing with so many lames, then you would understand why she smiled the way she did now. She was glowing and shining brighter than a diamond. Not only had he iced her up, but her son as well. Kareem had a gold chain on and it was so cute. She didn’t plan on letting him wear it to school either. Mahogany lifted the arm rest and moved closer to her beau. She leaned against his body and inhaled his Bond cologne.
“Stay with me forever,” she whispered before closing her eyes.
She never wanted to lose him.
“I’m with you long as you’re with me,” he promised.
While she and Kareem slept, he pondered over his life thus far.
He had come such a long way and was thankful that he was able to take her to France to see his upbringing. She was good in the hood and in the suburbs. Mahogany was versatile. In the Louvre, she read every statement under the paintings, claiming that she wanted to be well-informed about history. It was something that she was slowly digging. In the hood, she rolled up with the niggas. He loved seeing her in different elements, loved seeing her grow. Loved seeing her smile. Loved seeing her love on her kid. Loved seeing her talk about the upcoming chapters in her life and more than anything, he loved that she included him in them.
Tu Es Digne, meant you are worthy in French and with her, he felt deserving of giving love a fair chance this time around. Not having his guard up, not being too busy for simple shit like dinner and a movie. He was all in with her and he embraced the goodness of it all. She wasn’t perfect and shit, he wasn’t either. They were two willing individuals with enough faith between the two of them to see where love took them and so far, they were up high in the skies. Literally and figuratively.
C H A P T E R 14
If you thought that I was perfect, boy, you were wrong – Keri Hilson
“All you ever do is work, work, work, work! Do you not think the kids miss you? You’re such a fucking loser,” she yelled at him right after throwing a vase that by the grace of God he was able to duck. If that vase would’ve hit him, it would’ve been over for her ass.
“I wake up to you yelling, go to sleep yelling. How about we use our inside voices?” he asked her sarcastically while finishing up a slice of pizza and wine. It was almost two in the afternoon and he needed that sleep. Until he heard Kim going off on the pool man. He called himself stepping in, but she chumped him right the fuck off, making him feel stupid for even getting out of bed to help.
“Who drinks in the middle of the day?” She looked at him with disgust.
He downed the glass and belched loudly. “Someone who has to deal with your mean ass,” he mumbled under his breath.
She took a deep breath and threw her hair back over her shoulders.
“Porter, we need to talk. This is just…I want us to be happy again,” she admitted.
That was a surprise. “We used to be happy?” he only asked because he couldn’t remember the time nor the hour.
“Really?” Was he being serious?
“Yes.” He nodded his head.
Porter’s phone rung, he had a conference call.
“Be back in an hour,” he answered on the second ring and took the remainder of his plate with him into his office.
Porter’s mind often traveled back down memory lane, especially lately when he was in meetings that bored him. He hadn’t heard anything that the nine people around the table had said. On top of that his stomach growling and him needing to find time to get a haircut before he was scheduled to fly out of town at eight tonight.
“Mr. Bavay, I would love to hear how you feel on this matter?” one of the top investors in Carmen’s business asked.
He looked at her and her eyes were big as the sun.
“Uh, well Carmen is a great girl. I’ve known her for years. She’s uh...creative and diligent. I think that we all should collectively pour into this company because it’s guaranteed to be a money maker.” He hoped that covered the question effectively.
Everyone looked at each other and then busted out laughing.
“We were talking about Trump and this government shutdown...” Carmen gave him an annoyed smile that wasn’t playful. She needed him to focus. This was her baby on the table. Porter Bavay was a big deal and for some reason, people of all nationalities loved him. When some of the people that she reached out to saw his name on the email, they were eager to hear and learn more about her business.
He wiped invisible sweat off his forehead. “Forgive me. I’m a tad bit jetlag. I couldn’t care less about that demon. I don’t indulge in politics.”
They got back to business and thankfully, the meeting wrapped up shortly after.
“Carm, my bad sis,” he apologized as soon as he saw her heading towards him with a scowl on her face.
Her arms were crossed, and she did seem upset. “This is the third time you did this to me. Do you not care about my business?” Her feelings were hurt.
Porter didn’t like people talking over him, so he stood up and placed some space between them.
“Of course, I do… Look, I’m going to have my accountant send the money over today. I don’t think I have the time to be as hands-on as you would want me to be, but I can invest,” he admitted.
Sometimes, people needed to be upfront and it saved feelings in the end. Porter cared about what she had going on, yet at the same time, his plate was full and there wasn’t anything in him to give to her other than money right now.
“Porter…okay, well thank you. I don’t want to sound ungrateful.”
“I’ll text you for your account info and all of that.”
They said their goodbyes
and then he headed over to his office for yet another meeting. This was tiring him, and he was wishing that he was headed to some island. With the thought of Tahiti or Barbados on his mind, he texted his baby to ask her how soon she could get away.
She texted him back minutes later with a diner full of people and a sad face.
He contemplated on telling her to quit her damn job, but he knew that she would be offended, and he wasn’t in the mood to hear all that I’m Miss Independent bullshit.
“Stay focused. Your time is coming, bae.”
Mahogany sent back the muscle emojis and that was that. He was the second person to tell her that today. She was the first. It had to be happening soon.
η
Juice, Muncho, and Mahogany became a team. Late nights and early mornings had become their thing. She stifled a yawn as her back ached simultaneously. It had to be past four in the morning, and yet, they were still grinding.
“’Wind it back, and then I’ll come in from the hook.” She took on the role of whatever fucking role she had to be to make her dreams come true. Producer. Composer. Songwriter. Whatever.
Juice had fallen asleep an hour ago. She told him to go home, but he told her no.
“I need a few minutes and I’ll be good,” he said.
He was now snoring lightly with his hands deep in his jeans.
Muncho motioned for her to begin and she closed her eyes and sung her best, all she needed was a lil auto-tune and she sounded amazing.
“I done came up out the ghetto. House gated. My life is brazy…” she belted.
After she laid her vocals, she rapped the bridge, added the ad-libs and then she was done.
“P gon’ love this one,” Juice chimed in.
“When did you wake up?” She swung the studio chair around to face him.
He yawned as he stretched his legs. “I be in and out, my sleeping pattern is thrown off.”
“Well, I think we made a lot of progress tonight.” She had to head home to avoid the morning traffic.
“Yo, what time is it?” Juice’s cell had died hours ago.
“Four something. I need to get home, iron my baby clothes and then head to work.”
Sleep was officially off her schedule for the next few days. She was determined to get her EP done by the end of the month. Her demo had to pop, she had everything riding on it.
“I’m going to stay and finish up the song.” Muncho never stopped working. She appreciated his dedication to her career.
“You sure?”
Juice was going to stay with him then. “Yeah, get home safe. We’ll email it to you when we done.”
Mahogany hugged the both of them before she left.
“Shit, hold up. P will have our heads if somebody mugged you,” Juice told her as he ran behind her.
“I wish a motherfucker would.” She had her pistol and wasn’t afraid to use it.
“Oh, you hard hard,” he chuckled.
Her head went up and down. “And is.”
“Wait, oh you hard hard…and is…. oh, you hard hard? And is…”
He repeated Mahogany’s words as if he was rapping it and it sounded…decent. The youngins had this new habit of saying words twice to express emphasis on what they were trying to insinuate.
Juice started bopping to a beat that clearly only he heard.
“Is this supposed to be a song?” She was confused.
“Get in the truck. I gotta go see what I come up with,” he was officially hype. Mahogany wasn’t sure if he needed sleep or what…
“Juice, you need to go home and crash!”
He knew what he heard in his head. “Alright, you gone see when you come back tonight. Trust me.”
η
Porter was feeling this church. A lot. This was the first bible study he had ever been to. It was a smaller setting, more intimate and not a lot of people so he sat in the back of the church. Porter didn’t have a Bible, so he wrote down the scriptures in his phone. Before bed, he was trying to make it a habit to learn more about God and the people in the Bible. There were so many relatable situations and tonight, Apostle preached about Jonah and the Big Fish.
The story behind it was dope. Porter was on the edge of his seat. He found himself laughing and then focusing closely on how he was breaking the story down. Apostle was clever, he often used metaphors to get his point across. Porter was a wise fella, so he kept up with where he was going. Although, he often had to go back and explain his point again once he realized that the congregation didn’t get it.
“I need y’all to hone in on this thing. Jonah is my guy,” he laughed into the microphone as he flipped through his notes to finish the sermon.
He left his phones in the car so that he wouldn’t be distracted by people calling, texting or emailing him. Church was becoming a priority and now that he saw how laid-back bible study was, he understood what Nia was saying about moving her schedule around to not miss the Word. Everything else would come after, it would have to because his soul was hungry for more. Porter felt a pull on his spirit. He wanted God. He wanted to be full of Him.
He had made a lot of mistakes in the past and that was because he didn’t have any direction. There was no guide or blueprint to show him the right way. Now he knew that was the Word.
Apostle wrapped up the Sermon about fifteen minutes later. When they said Power Hour, that’s exactly what that meant, and Porter appreciated every bit. It was barely eight o’clock, which meant he could still do some work.
“We’re going to finish up this on Sunday,” he let the church know.
“Stand up, let’s pray church.”
Apostle’s wrist was sparkling. Porter enjoyed the finer things, he could spot a nice jewel a mile away and that watch was exquisite.
“God, we come to you not asking you for anything tonight. We simply want to tell you thank you. Thank you for being who you are in our life. Thank you for keeping us safe and sound, Thank you for your angels. Thank you for waking us up this morning. Thank you for everything that you’re doing in this season. God don’t do it without us…”
He tuned out of the prayer and started one of his own.
Porter was growing in God and it felt upright.
η
“When are we going to talk about Kareem?” he wanted to know everything, no more bits and pieces.
She stirred ground turkey, turkey sausage, onion and bell pepper mixture in a skillet before dumping it into a bowl of boiling pasta sauce with parmesan cheese.
“Hand me the oregano.” She was cooking dinner for him tonight. Never in a million years did she think she’d grow tired of eating out, but she wanted a home cooked meal and he loved her food. That was a plus.
“I don’t like when you ignore me,” he admitted.
Mahogany stopped stirring the pot and looked at him. He was sitting at her small breakfast table on his iPad, working when he wasn’t supposed to be.
“Baby, let you tell it you don’t like a lot of stuff I do,” she kept it real with him.
“Not true at all. Yo, why you gotta say shit like that?” His face scrunched up.
She went back to cooking, keeping her thoughts to herself.
“Mahogany, I want to know the story every time I come over and see those pictures it raises questions.”
“Flip em’ over then…” that was all she had to give him.
She finished cooking and then said, “Make your own plate, I been serving ungrateful mother fuckers all day.”
“Why are you so snappy? You want me to leave?”
She plopped down in the chair and before he knew it, she was crying. Like boo hoo crying.
What happened that fast? He put his iPad down and went over to her, kneeling before her, pulling her hands down from her face.
“Talk to me.”
“I’m tired,” she sobbed, uncontrollably.
“From what?”
He couldn’t read minds, she had to give him more than that.
“I’ve b
een at work since five o’clock this morning. I’ve been working doubles, I come home, shower, then I go to the studio. I barely sleep and tonight all I wanted to do was cook you dinner and then you asking me shit-”
He shushed her with a quick kiss.
“I’m sorry baby. I’m sorry.” He didn’t know that she had been standing on her feet doing doubles.
Porter was a busy nigga, they could do better with communicating throughout the day.
“It’s not important. I’m his mama. I don’t want to talk about it, Porter.”
She wanted him to nip the shit in the bud and leave her alone.
Mahogany wasn’t even an emotional person, but what more could one woman take?
“Do you want to quit your job?”
She shook her head, “NO!”
Him taking care of her wasn’t an option. She was a kept woman and felt as if men had no respect for women that they saw about. It would give him leeway and a free pass to do whatever the fuck he wanted because she wouldn’t be able to leave him, at least that’s what her ex thought. Mahogany would never allow a man to convince her to put all his eggs in his basket. No sir, not happening.
“Maybe you can cut back on the hours. We can pay you for the hours you spend in the studio. I can figure something out,” he offered another solution.
Mahogany shook her head. “I’m fine, but can you please stop asking me about them…I hate them and they’re not important.”
He had no clue on who “them” was, but he nodded his head and told her, “Okay baby.”
They ate in silence, and then she went to shower while he washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen.
Kareem and Genesis came home around eight-thirty and he ran right into Porter’s arms.
He picked him up and hugged him. “Hey buddy.”
Porter hadn’t seen him since Paris, which was three weeks ago.
“I got a plane.” He showed him his new toy.
“Looks dope, you hungry? Your mom cooked.”
He asked him as he put him down.
Genesis nodded his head, acknowledging him but not speaking so Porter did the same.
“Nope. I ate. Where is my mama?” He looked around. Missing his main girl, who he hadn’t seen since yesterday because she’d been working.