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Platinum Page 22

by Aliya S. King


  “Bitches ain’t shit but hos and tricks?”

  Kipenzi’s face was blank.

  “Sorry.”

  “Can you give me a translation for mixed company?”

  “Uncle Jake said that no woman can be fully trusted.”

  “So why on earth would you have unprotected sex with some random girl?”

  “I did have a condom on … the first time.”

  “Is this the one your mother caught you with?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you ready to be a father?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  “So. Now what?”

  “I need three hundred dollars for an abortion for the sidepiece chick. I can’t get more than two hundred from my account without my mom’s or dad’s signature.”

  “And you came to me. Not Uncle Jake.”

  “Uncle Jake would kill me. I’m supposed to be smarter than this.”

  “Indeed,” Kipenzi said, rolling her eyes and reaching for her bag. She took out a business card. “Call this doctor and make an appointment.” She waved the card in Ian’s direction, who nodded and opened his cell phone. “He’ll be expecting your call. He can take care of it first thing in the morning. Make sure you go with her, stay with her, and take care of her for a day or two afterward. No need to get her all bitter and blow up your spot.”

  Zander nodded his head and held the card in his hand.

  “And what are you going to do about Bunny?” Kipenzi said.

  “I don’t know yet. Puff’s talking about signing her …”

  “Does she know this other girl’s pregnant?”

  “No.”

  Kipenzi sat up straight on the sofa and leaned over, her hands folded in her lap. “Zander, listen to me. You don’t get a second chance to start in this game. Everyone is watching you right now. You know Steve Stoute?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He can get you endorsement deals with any brand you can think of, if you’re polished and drama-free. I’ve made more money from his deals than any note I’ve ever sung.”

  “I know, Auntie, it’s just that—”

  “I’m not saying you can’t do dirt. You will. That’s a part of growing up. But you don’t have the same freedom as your friends. Your every fuckup is being chronicled. If you’re serious about your career, you can’t ever forget that. You are a brand. Zander, Inc. Every move you make should consider that. Every time you walk out the door, remember you are a walking advertisement for your brand. I know your mom’s been telling you this stuff.”

  “I’ve been going through some stuff with my mom. We haven’t been really getting along.”

  “Actually, you’ve been a certified jerk toward your mom for months now.”

  “She acts like she wants my dad to stay an addict. So she can always come in and save the day. Gets on my nerves.”

  “What right do you have to judge your mother for how she treats your father? That’s none of your business.”

  “He treats her like sh—crap. And she just takes it.”

  “How’s that your business?”

  “I don’t respect her.”

  “Doesn’t give you the right to curse her out.”

  “Auntie Penzie, I heard there’s this book coming out.”

  Kipenzi let out a breath and leaned her head back on the sofa.

  “Yeah.”

  “I think my dad might be in it. And I just think it might make things … weird.”

  “I can’t tell you all your parents’ business,” Kipenzi said. “But I don’t think you should worry about that book.”

  Kipenzi cleared a place on her coffee table as Ian brought over a sterling silver tray with tea service for two. He dropped two sugar cubes in each teacup, poured tea, and then went back to the kitchen. Kipenzi took a sip, closing her eyes for a long second before sitting back on the sofa.

  “If your dad is in it—and I’m not saying he is or he isn’t—I think your parents are both prepared to deal with the fallout.”

  Zander drummed his fingers on the coffee table and glanced up at the plasma television above the sofa.

  “He might start using again over this book,” he said, eyes on the television.

  “If so, he wasn’t really ready to be clean,” Kipenzi said. “You can’t stay clean just when life is going according to plan. You have to stay clean when everything’s fucked up too.”

  Zander nodded. “Do you care about the book?” he asked. “I mean, you know, do you think …”

  “Do I think Jake’s in there? No. Do I care? Yes. I would be devastated.”

  “I don’t know any men that don’t cheat, Auntie Penzi.”

  “That’s beside the point. Cheating is one thing. And cheating with someone like Cleo Wright is something very different.”

  “Seems the same to me.”

  “Let me give you a lesson in women right now. Deep inside, we never believe you will be one hundred percent faithful. We want you to. We expect you to. But we know. We know that you are primal, sinful animals who think with your penises. We just don’t want to be disrespected. Or embarrassed. Or humiliated. Don’t bring us any diseases, outside babies, or unwanted attention.”

  “My father’s done all three to my mom—and more.”

  “He’s starting over, Zander. Let him start over.”

  Kipenzi put a hand over her chest and exhaled. “I haven’t talked to your mom since we were all in Anguilla. And it was … tense. I miss her.”

  “She misses you too.”

  “You are going to make such a good big brother.”

  “I haven’t done such a good job of it so far.”

  “You’re starting over too, Zander. Give yourself a chance to start over. Hell, we’re all starting over.”

  Kipenzi threw an arm around Zander’s shoulders and squeezed him tight. She took the elevator to the lobby with him. They both looked up at the numbers and watched them light up until they reached the first floor.

  ALEX LOVED VISITING THE EDITOR IN CHIEF’S OFFICE AT VIBE. MARIA had the corner office, with bamboo shades covering the windows that looked out onto midtown Manhattan. Alex felt important and special whenever she had to meet with anyone in person. It was one of the few times she allowed herself to revel in her profession. When she was seven, she’d sit at her kitchen table with a typewriter that didn’t work and pretend to have a meeting with an editor about a book she was writing. She thought of those quiet moments and her pretend meetings whenever she had a real meeting.

  She waited in the lobby, her bag between her legs, while her back rested against the black leather couch. After a whirlwind month of preparing for her wedding, trying to pin down interviews with the wives, and keeping the home life intact, she was in a perpetual fog. Hours ago she’d woken up to Birdie stroking her thigh and breathing heavily into her neck. She’d brushed him off much more severely than she’d meant to, but she needed to make it clear—it wasn’t happening.

  With her eyes still closed, Alex made a mental note to apologize to Birdie as soon as she got home. It wasn’t his fault that she was—

  “Alex, girl, are you asleep?”

  Alex jerked and opened her eyes to see Maria standing on the staircase in front of her.

  “Just resting my eyes,” Alex said, leaping up from her seat and tripping over her bag. She righted herself, shook her head, and laughed. “It’s one of those days.”

  “Every day is one of those days,” Maria said. “Come on up. The magazine is going to the printer in two days, so we’re all stressed.”

  Alex followed Maria up the staircase and waited as the editor held her magnetic card to the reader and pulled the door.

  As soon as Alex sat down, Maria looked at her watch and made a face. “Alex, I have seven minutes to talk to you before I have to meet with my photo department. So let’s skip the formalities.”

  “Wait. First, I have a present for you,” Alex said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a shoe box.

  “Wh
at’s this?” Maria asked, reaching out for the box.

  “I’m writing a story on Jake for the New York Times. One of his boys sent me a thank-you note for settling a bet between them.”

  Maria opened the box and pretended to faint.

  “Jake’s first shoe?! Original? Never worn? Holy shit!”

  Alex nodded her head and smiled. “Enjoy.”

  “So how’s the story coming along?” said Maria, clutching the shoe box to her chest. “Have you interviewed all the wives we talked about?”

  Alex cleared her throat. “Almost.”

  Maria shook her head and frowned. “I don’t like that word.”

  Alex held up her hand. “I’m spending time in their world, which counts for something.”

  “It does,” Maria said. “Who’ve you actually met?”

  “I had a great interview with Josephine Bennett.”

  Maria nodded. “Well, what’s she like? Ras Bennett’s got more money than God. Does she just spend it all day?”

  “She designs bridal gowns.”

  Maria grimaced. “Right. I think I saw that. She’s not serious, is she?”

  Alex felt a twinge of something she could not name. “Yes, she is actually. And she’s good.”

  Maria smiled wide. “Getting close to the subject? Sound a little defensive.”

  “I met Kipenzi Hill a few weeks ago.”

  Maria’s eyes widened. “You did not.”

  “I did.”

  “Her publicist told me there was no chance in hell we could talk to her for this story,” said Maria.

  “I wasn’t doing this story. I went to his office for the New York Times interview and—”

  “Get outta here,” Maria yelled, smacking her hand on her desk. “She was there?”

  “Splayed out on his sofa reading a magazine.”

  “Niiiice. Did she talk to you?”

  “A bit.”

  Maria squinted at Alex. “Enough?”

  Alex couldn’t help but smile. “I think so.”

  Maria clapped her hands once and then stood up. “Thanks for coming in, Alex. I’m really looking forward to reading this.”

  “Me too.”

  “You’ve made some headway with Kipenzi. You’ve interviewed Josephine.”

  “She has a baby due any day now.”

  “I didn’t know she was pregnant.”

  “She’s not. She’s adopting.”

  “Wow. Nice twist. What about Beth?”

  “I’ve been to the house. I’ve seen … a lot.”

  “From what I hear, life with Z can be complicated.”

  “That’s an understatment.”

  “And the son, I’m hearing he’s signing with Universal.”

  “Is that definite?” Alex asked.

  “Looks like it. His buzz just from the online videos is through the roof. And he’s dating Bunny Clifton, which is adorable. So it’s turning into a cute family story.”

  “Except …”

  “Except Z is a crackhead, I know. That’s what makes it a juicy family story, my favorite kind.”

  Alex nodded.

  “Now. Did you ask them all about the Cleo book?”

  Alex swallowed hard. “Well, I didn’t ask Kipenzi since she was standing right next to Jake when I talked to her.”

  “What about Beth?”

  “She’s in denial. About a lot of things.”

  “And Josephine?”

  “She knows. She knows everything.” Alex felt light-headed and ran a hand over her face.

  “Are you okay?” Maria asked.

  “I’m cool. It’s a tough story, you know?”

  “I can imagine. Especially for you.”

  Alex’s stomach dropped. “Especially for me?”

  Maria leaned in even closer. “My sister works for Simonstein Publishing. She told me you’re writing the book.”

  Alex smiled weakly. “You knew all along, didn’t you?” she asked.

  “Maybe,” Maria said. “Now, have you heard about some kind of initiation thing with anyone who wants to work with Ras Bennett? My sister said if you want to work with him, you have to get a blow job from this Cleo chick.”

  A lump formed in Alex’s throat. An initiation? For anyone who worked with him? Her mind raced, trying to remember what Birdie had said about his studio session with Ras. Had he come straight home that night? Had he even played her whatever they had worked on? She couldn’t remember. What she did know was that in the canvas tote bag sitting at her feet was Cleo’s manuscript. And she knew that Cleo had never mentioned any kind of initiation.

  “Alex, can I ask you a question?” Maria asked, her eyes on the floor.

  Alex didn’t answer. She just put one hand over her eyes and waited.

  “Is it true that you’re engaged to Birdie?” Maria said.

  Alex exhaled. “What happens if I say yes?”

  “I knew it! Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “I wasn’t sure if it was really relevant.”

  Maria laughed out loud. “You’re marrying a rapper and you weren’t sure if it was relevant? You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

  “I don’t talk about it—ever. I keep my personal life really private.”

  “And yet.”

  “Right. I’m stalking three women to make them open up to me. I’m aware of the irony.”

  Maria shook her head slowly from side to side. “You’ve gotta write this story in the first person. I want to know what you’ve learned from these women. How it relates to your own life. How would you feel if Birdie was in this book?”

  “That’s hard for me. I’m not sure I really want to—”

  A young redhead with silver hoops that brushed her shoulders popped her head into Maria’s office. “They need you to sign off on the cover. Ten minutes in Henry’s office.”

  Maria nodded and stood up still clutching her shoebox tight under her arm. She took a PDA out of her purse and began furiously typing while heading out the door of her office. She’d switched gears so suddenly that she didn’t even realize she hadn’t said good-bye or that Alex was still in her office.

  Alex stayed in the chair across from Maria’s desk, collecting her thoughts and watching midtown Manhattan in rush hour. She looked down into her bag and glanced at the manuscript she had to give to Cleo later on that day. It was full of every perverted story Cleo told her over the past few months. Cleo had told her flat out that she’d been with ninety percent of all the rappers in the tristate area. And Birdie had looked her in the eye and said he’d never go near her. But this initiation story …

  Alex stuck her hand into a side pocket of her bag for her cell phone as she took the stairs two at a time out of the offices of Vibe.

  “Cleo, this is Alex.”

  “What’s up? We’re still on for two, right?”

  “I need to know if we can meet earlier. I have to talk to you about something.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “I’d like to talk to you in person.”

  “Alex, do you want to know if I ever fucked your boyfriend?”

  Alex stopped at the top of the stairs for the subway platform. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I would like to know that.”

  “I’ll see you in thirty minutes,” Cleo said before hanging up.

  By the time Alex got to the diner, Cleo was already there, calmly adding Splenda packets to a cup of coffee, stirring, sipping, and adding more packets.

  Alex slid into the booth, stripping off her raincoat and dragging her bag next to her. “You drink way too much coffee,” she said.

  “I like coffee,” Cleo said with a shrug. She leaned away from her coffee to sneeze, then went back to adding more sweetener.

  “If you’re sick, you should probably drink tea,” Alex offered. Her voice was measured and steely.

  “I never drink tea. Ever,” Cleo said.

  “What you got against tea?” Alex asked. She didn’t take her eyes off Cleo.

  Cleo finally
dragged her eyes up to meet Alex’s. She inhaled, exhaled, and then looked up at the ceiling.

  “Alex, my story is typical. My father’s a jerk. Mom left. Blah blah blah.”

  Alex bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from speaking.

  Cleo hugged herself and smiled. “When I was really young, I’d watch television with my dad. We never watched anything I wanted to see. But I would just sit nearby and watch with him just to be close to him. He loved Angie Dickinson on that show Police Woman and he loved the two chicks from Cagney and Lacey. Every time they took some bad guy down he would say, ‘Damn! That girl don’t take no tea for the fever!’ ”

  “What does that mean?” Alex asked.

  Cleo shrugged. “He never told me. I never asked. But I think it means, you know, they’re so bad-ass that they don’t need hot tea when they’re sick. They just barrel through it. I so wanted to be that kind of woman in my dad’s eyes. I wanted him to look at me and grunt and say, ‘My little girl? She’s tough as nails. Don’t take no tea for the fever.’ ”

  “Some people would say you are like that,” Alex said through clenched teeth.

  “Nope. I’m not. But I want to be. So I don’t drink tea when I’m sick. I just barrel through it.”

  “So did you?” Alex asked.

  Cleo looked up and shook a Splenda packet, ripped it open, and put a few granules in her cup. “Did I what?”

  “Bitch, don’t play with me.”

  Cleo opened her mouth wide in mock horror. “Alex, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  “Answer the question.”

  “You didn’t ask me one.”

  “Have you ever had sex with Peter ‘Birdie’ Washington?”

  Cleo took a sip of coffee, locking eyes with Alex the entire time. When she was done, she dabbed at her mouth with a napkin and placed it in her lap. “I’ve never understood that. Why do the women come to me? Why do they ask me? I don’t owe them shit. It’s the husbands and boyfriends they should ask. Not me.”

  “Maybe I did ask him.”

  “If you did and he said yes, you wouldn’t be asking me. If he said no and you don’t believe him, then you have a problem.”

  “I want to hear your answer out of your mouth.”

  “Did I fuck your man? No.”

  “What is this initiation story? You never told me about Ras using you as some kind of initiation process.”

 

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