The Come Up

by Nia Forrester

  “Had a good night?” he asked, breaking the silence.

  “It was okay.” She leaned her head backwards, dipping her locs in the water then shaking them.

  “Looked more than okay to me. You and Devin were all over each other. That’s a lot of PDA for a couple people who say they’re just friends.”

  “I know you’re not tryin’ to be jealous when your girlfriend showed up.”

  “Jealo… look, all I’m sayin’ is, if you and Devin have something going on the least you could have done is been straight about that and not let me get in the middle of …”

  “First of all, you could never get in the middle of me and Devin. That’s rock-solid and going nowhere. And second, it’s obvious you’re jealous. And third, your jealousy literally makes me sick to my stomach because you have a woman and she’s here, in L.A., even as we speak.”

  Makayla put the flats of her palms on the edge of the pool and hoisted herself up and out, walking toward one of the lounges and grabbing her towel.

  “Where the hell are you going?” Jamal demanded.

  “Back to my room.”

  “So you came up here to wait for me just so you could tell me off and then run to your room?”

  “I wasn’t waiting for you!”

  But Makayla paused with her hand on the door. Her voice had been so loud that it was a good thing the pool area was enclosed, and at the very top of the hotel where there were no sleeping rooms.

  “Yes you were.”

  Makayla took a deep breath, her shoulders heaving as she did. Turning to look at him, she folded her arms.

  “Okay, so I was. I admit it. And you were jealous. Admit that.”

  Jamal splashed some water on his face, swam to the edge closest to her and climbed out. Taking one step, and another, he nodded then shrugged.

  “I was jealous,” he said.

  And as soon as the words were out, Makayla’s lips twitched a little and broke into a smile that got wider, and wider. She shifted her weight from one foot to another and then pursed her lips, still smiling, but looking down at the ground.

  Jamal took another two steps. He was directly in front of her now. Water dripped onto her shoulders. “You happy now? Yeah, I was jealous as a motherfucker. But at least I know I could kick his skinny ass if it came to that.”

  Makayla looked up at him. So damn cute. He put his hands up and cupped her face, leaning in. Just as his lips were set to make contact with hers, she turned her head.

  “I’m nobody’s side-piece, Jamal.”

  “Who the hell is asking you to be?”

  “What do you call this? Kissing me while you’re with her … that’s just … foul.”

  “I’m not with her. Tonight, her showing up … it’s complicated, okay? But I’m not with her. And earlier, you didn’t have any problem kissing me back.”

  “That’s true. But I …” She shrugged. “I forgot about her for a minute.”

  “And I’m telling you that you can forget about her again right now.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I can’t explain it to you without breaking her confidence. What happened with me and Madison is not for you to know, just like what’s about to happen between you and me is none of her business either.”

  “What’s about to happen between you and me?” Makayla asked, with raised eyebrows. “You sound mighty sure of yourself.”

  “I am.”

  Using the pad of his thumb, he stroked her lower lip and Makayla’s mouth opened slightly. Jamal inserted just the tip of his finger and she lightly sucked on it, closing her eyes. Then, as if realizing what she’d done, she took a quick step back and wrenched her face free of his grasp.

  “Stop … I can’t. Not unless you tell me more. I can’t do this if you’re with somebody.”

  “I’m not.”

  “So why is she ..?”

  “Makayla, like you said, she’s in L.A. right now. If I was with her, if I wanted to be, I wouldn’t be here at this damn pool at almost four in the morning arguing with your difficult ass.”

  She smiled again at that, and then just as quickly, the smile melted away. “But she wants you.”

  Jamal shrugged.

  “I’m not going to be a fool for you, Jamal Turner. If you’re …”

  “Just …” He grabbed her face again. “Shut up, will you?”

  Then he kissed her.

  _______________

  He stole her breath. His lips on hers, hands cradling her face, his hard chest pressed against her soft one and both of them soaking wet. She’d imagined it dozens of times, and even when it finally happened tonight in the club, it seemed implausible that he would want her the way she wanted him. It was unreal.

  And it stole her breath.

  He kissed her like he had all the time in the world, his tongue exploring hers unhurriedly, before his mouth moved to her jaw and along the length of her neck. No hesitant pecks from this man; he kissed with enthusiasm and something almost like aggression, intuiting when she wanted it hard, and when she would prefer it soft.

  Makayla remembered the kisses at the club and they paled in comparison to this. Between them, there was only the thin fabric of his trunks and her suit, and both were very, very inadequate, because she could feel him pressing against her, and the urge to let her hand fall, and to grasp him in her fist was overwhelming. But strangely, being alone with him made her hesitate to take this step, even though she had been brazen enough to do so in the club. If she touched him in that way now, there might be no stopping them. She wouldn’t want to stop.

  Jamal walked her backward until she was pressed against the glass door that led away from the pool and out into the hallway. His hands fell from her face, moved down her arms and to the small of her back, pressing her against him even harder. The instinct to rub against him, to create friction, to open her legs was irresistible, so she didn’t resist when he put a knee between her legs, telling herself that as long as they were clothed, it would be okay. She wouldn’t go further than that, because she couldn’t.

  Makayla had barely completed that thought when with one hand, Jamal cupped her ass and the other came around and down between them. Holding her breath, she waited for him to …

  Ah. Right there. There. There.

  He was as nimble and expert with his fingers as he was with his tongue, and soon she was panting, her mouth open and pressed against his chest, just as his explored her neck and shoulders. As her breath came harder, his fingers moved faster. Any minute now, she would come apart; already her knees felt dangerously close to buckling, and she reached up to grab his arm, steadying herself as best she could.

  “Wait, wait … Jamal, wait …”

  “What?” He slowed the motion of his hand and kissed her again, his tongue hot and hungry. “What’s wrong?”

  “Stop,” Makayla said.

  “You want me to ...?”

  She said she wasn’t going to be a fool for him, but if so what the hell was this? There was no way, if he got her off now, she was going to be able to look at him across the table pokerfaced while they had breakfast with Devin and DeJuan in the morning. Her head was swimming as it was, filled only with him and how he was making her feel.

  “Stop,” she said again.

  Pulling back, albeit a little reluctantly, Jamal looked at her, his eyes were dark and searching. His chest heaved and between them, a no-kidding-around full-sized erection sprung as far upward as his swimwear would allow.

  “You okay?” he asked, taking a full step back.

  “Yeah. I just want to … slow things down a little. This is …”

  “It’s okay.” He smiled at her; one of his dazzling, perfect smiles, and then licked his fingers.

  And immediately Makayla began to rethink her position. Maybe she should just throw caution to the wind, because when they returned to New York, he may have lost interest. Maybe this was just some on-the-road recklessness and once they were back at SE, he would resume be
ing just her boss and she would have missed her chance to find out whether the man lived up to the legend.

  “It’s okay,” Jamal said again. “Neither one of us is prepared right now for where this might be headed, so …”

  It took her a moment to realize he was referring to protection. Neither of them had condoms on hand. Yes, good. That was a convenient excuse although truth be told, that was the least of her worries though it should have been.

  “I need to cool down,” he said. Then he turned away from her and took a running dive back into the pool.

  Makayla took a little more time. There was still a pulsating heaviness between her legs, a liquid heat that begged for relief. She had been so close … what the hell had she been thinking stopping him when she did? Sighing in frustration, she followed suit and jumped into the pool herself.

  13

  “Would you tell me?”

  “Of course I would.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Devin, I promise you, I would tell you if I was sleeping with him. And I’m not.”

  “Yeah, a’ight.” Devin still looked skeptical. Leaning back into the plush leather seat, he put his earbuds back in and began once again bopping to the beat only he could hear.

  Makayla turned and looked out the window of the SUV they were traveling in. He was still annoyed, that much was clear. But to try to pull him out of his mood would mean telling more half-truths. Devin knew her too well, that was the problem. Of course, she hadn’t lied to him, exactly. She and Jamal were not sleeping together.

  At least not yet.

  The promotional tour was two and a half weeks in the rearview mirror and now that they were back in New York, Devin’s calendar was heating up, not only with gigs, but with invitations to events and even an interview request from the Village Voice. Tonight, they’d been at a party to launch a coffee table book of photos taken by a photojournalist who had spent a year and a half on the road with some of hip-hop’s biggest names, taking concert photos and documenting their lives on tour.

  Since two of SE’s artists were featured, they had co-hosted an event with the publisher. About two hundred guests had been in attendance in the Sky Room at the New Museum in the Bowery, including some of the biggest performing stars in the country. The combination of breathtaking views, beautiful people and finger foods plated to look like high art had been heady stuff. Makayla spent most of the evening trying not to look as starstruck as she was when Shantez Page walked in; or when Cameron Cole stepped onto the elevator at the same time as her and Devin.

  And most of all, she tried not to stare at Jamal, in the center of it all and clearly in his element, moving among some of the most famous people in America perfectly comfortable and at ease. Wearing a white linen shirt and khaki pant, he was one of the most eye-catching men in a room full of men whose faces were far more famous than his. So Makayla couldn’t help but stare when she saw him. Just a few times, but Devin caught her at it one time too many, and now was suspicious.

  What he didn’t see, thankfully, was when Jamal walked up behind her and pulled one of her locs from the large, dramatic bun she’d fashioned them into for the event. Spinning to see who had been so presumptuous, Makayla found herself facing him—or his chest anyway.

  You look pretty, he said.

  Yeah? Well you just messed up my hair. Makayla reached up and tucked the loc back among its compatriots as best she could.

  She hoped she looked pretty. Without a frame of reference, it had been difficult to figure out what to wear. Finally, she’d decided on a black palazzo pant and pale yellow bandeau top. Since she didn’t have much that was fancy by way of jewelry, she had foregone that altogether and concentrated on making her hair the focal point of the look.

  I like it messy. Jamal leaned in close, and for one startled moment, Makayla thought he might kiss her neck, right there in front of everybody, but instead he just took a whiff and raised his head again. You smell pretty too.

  Before she could think of something to respond—something that wouldn’t give away how disproportionate her reaction to his compliments were—Jamal had grabbed her hand and was pulling her along with him. Taking her to the balcony, which offered a wraparound view of the Manhattan skyline, he glanced left and right before choosing the more secluded end, where fewer people had gathered to get their fill of the panorama and the cool night air. Makayla thought he might try to kiss her or sweet-talk her some more, which she wouldn’t have objected to. But instead, he leaned on the balcony and looked out at their city.

  How’s your grandmother doing these days? he asked.

  Makayla had looked at him then and smiled. Of all the things she thought he might have had on his mind, her grandmother’s well-being was not one of them.

  She’s good, she said nodding. Thank you for asking. Then she shook her head. Don’t you turn out to be one of the good guys, Jamal Turner. I don’t know if my heart could take it.

  What does that mean? He laughed. Because I asked about your grandmother? You must know some sorry-ass Negroes if that’s all it takes to be one of the good ones.

  It’s not just that you asked about her. It’s that you asked about her and meant it.

  So sitting here in this car with Devin, she was on cloud nine for very different reasons than anyone might have imagined. For months now she knew that she was attracted to Jamal, and for much longer than that, even before they met she knew she respected him. Now, she was pretty damn close to infatuated with the man. And that could become a problem, but for the moment, she was enjoying it.

  Since they’d gotten back from the tour, there had only been moments, most of them stolen between meetings and calls, and a few trips he’d taken to Connecticut, Philadelphia and most recently back to Atlanta. Jamal stayed on the move; but when he wasn’t, he’d managed to call her late at night, or when he was in, he sometimes asked her down to his office for a “quick check in” which twice turned into him pulling her behind his partly-shut door for a few hot and heavy kisses.

  He’d asked her to dinner on a proper date, and twice had to cancel, calling her from a car, and once from the tarmac at LaGuardia, headed someplace to do what he called “last-minute damage control.” That was what ninety-nine percent of his job seemed to consist of from what Makayla could see. But so far the nature of the damage he was controlling was a complete mystery to her.

  The canceled dates were disappointing, but she was fine with the unhurried pace, because she needed to get her bearings first, get her head on straight and out of the damn clouds.

  “Yo, my man!” Devin had taken out his ear buds and was talking to their driver. “I think I might need you to let me out here, instead.”

  Makayla looked at him and then out the window again. They were on Houston and about to turn South and head toward Brooklyn. The car was a perk that Jamal had arranged for them, which he said was mostly because he wanted Makayla to have door-to-door service.

  Your boy I don’t give a shit about, he’d joked. He can take the train.

  “Why’re you getting out here?” Makayla looked at him. “He’s going to take us both all the way home.”

  “It’s still early. I’ma head over to Chelsea and see what I can get into.”

  The driver pulled over and Devin reached for the door handle. Makayla stopped him with a hand on his arm.

  “Are you mad at me or something? Because you think there’s something going on with …”

  “Oh, I know there’s something going on between you and ol’ boy. But nah, I’m not mad. I just want to go hang with some real folks after all that fancy shit, and chi-chi food. I’ma grab a slice and go catch a set somewhere, that’s all.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, Kay. I’m sure. You go on home and dream about your boyfriend, and I’m going to go listen to some music.” Devin leaned over and kissed her quickly on the cheek before ducking out of the car and shutting the door behind him.

  Before the driver could pull off, s
he rolled down the window and leaned out, intending to call out her goodnight when her phone rang. Groping around for her clutch and finally locating it, she pulled out the phone, and by the time she glanced up again, Devin had disappeared into the crowd.

  “Hello?”

  “Miss?” the driver said from up front. “Still headed to Brooklyn?”

  “Hang on a sec,” she said into the phone, not yet knowing who it was.

  “Hey!” the voice on the other end said. “Tell him no, not to Brooklyn. I need you to meet me somewhere.”

  “Jamal?”

  “Yeah. I was hoping to catch you before you made it across the bridge. I need your help with something real quick.”

  “Sure. What is …?”

  “I’ll explain when you get here,” he said. “Lemme talk to your driver. I’ll tell him where to go.”

  _______________

  The building was a very swanky one on West 42nd Street. Just blocks away from the Hudson River it was a modern high-rise with a private circular driveway and a doorman dressed in a pale grey suit standing sentry at the door. Following Jamal’s instructions, her driver met him half a block away and Makayla switched cars, getting out of her chauffeured vehicle and into Jamal’s, a sleek, sliver Mercedes Benz SLS.

  “This is a really nice car,” Makayla said looking over her shoulder and stroking the soft leather of the seat under her.

  “Yeah, yeah, it’s beautiful,” Jamal said hurrying her along. “So here’s the thing …” He pursed his lips and shook his head, looking reluctant to go on. “I need you to go inside and pick something up.”

  Makayla let her head fall to one side. “Pick what up?”

  “A bag.”

  “What’s in the bag?”

  “What’s in the bag?” he repeated.

  “Yes, Jamal, what’s in the bag?”

  He shook his head looking confused. “How the heck would I know what’s in the bag?”

  “You’re the one asking me to go get it. And where I come from, if someone asks you to go ‘pick up a bag’, there’s a pretty good chance some law is about to be broken.”