by Nikki Turner
“It doesn’t mean that he’s broke because the promoter’s card was declined. It’s not his. But I will check on it, April,” she assured her co-worker as she walked away.
Once she’d strolled back over to Don, he asked, “So where are we off to? I mean, it really doesn’t matter to me, it’s basically wherever your heart desires.”
“Well, there is a new restaurant called the Vines that I was invited to a few weeks ago, and the food was so scrumptious. I would love to go back there again. Let me tell you all about it. The—”
“No need to,” he said, cutting her off. “I said anywhere your heart desires.”
“Okay, but it’s kind of pricey.”
“If you like it, I love it,” he said. “There’s nothing to debate.”
Beijing hesitated in light of what April had just told her. But, she thought, the promoter’s and Don’s pockets were two different things. Besides, she was willing to go Dutch. She didn’t expect him to pay for her meal. Then again, the restaurant might comp her meal, which sometimes happened because they knew she would recommend their establishment to her clients.
Beijing led Don to her parking space near the front of the hotel, where she kept her father’s vintage 1979 Lincoln Continental Mark V Bill Blass Edition that he had fully and lovingly restored. It wasn’t the most expensive car on the road, but it was distinctive and it could flat-out run at 120 mph and make you feel like you were floating on air.
She got behind the wheel, and Don slid into the passenger seat.
“Nice ride, baby,” he said. “Damn, and you got a CD player in here?” He leaned in to figure out how to slide his CD into the player.
“Thanks. Since I blew up the engine in my car, my daddy lets me use this. I keep telling him that I’m going to get something newer but he reminds me that restoring this car was a labor of love for him. It means a lot to me, and even more to Daddy. So, I’m driving it for the time being until I do figure out what I really want.”
Beijing coasted out of the parking lot and didn’t say much to Don, because she was enjoying his rhymes coming from the stereo. Impressed with his skills, she bopped her head to the tracks of the two songs he chose for her to listen to. He then turned down the volume to get to know Beijing a little more.
“So, do you like working at the hotel?” Don asked.
“Yes. It’s cool for now but I have dreams and aspirations bigger than this hotel.”
“Like what? Being the wife of a big rap star?” he teased.
“Not even.” She smiled. “I want to own a concierge business that caters only to the wealthiest and most exclusive patrons.”
“Count me in as one of your clients.”
“No doubt.” Beijing cranked up the volume, wanting to hear the last song over again. Don looked out the window until the track ended.
“Would you mind pulling over to that gas station?” Don said to Beijing. “I need to grab some Blacks and a pack of gum.” As Beijing pulled over, he asked, “You want anything?”
“No, I’m okay. I don’t want to spoil my appetite.”
Two minutes later Don returned with a look of disappointment on his face. “They don’t have any Blacks. Ima walk over to that other station around back. Wait here for me.”
“You sure you don’t want me to just pull over there?”
“Nah, I’m good. Just chill for me here.”
Beijing thought it was kind of odd that Don wanted to walk, but she didn’t make a big deal out of it. She used the time to run tomorrow’s schedule through her head.
Nobody but the clerk was in the store when Don walked up to the gas station counter.
“Let me get a pack of Blacks and all the money you got in that register.”
“W-w-what?” the attendant stammered.
Don pulled out a Glock from his waistband and calmly stated, “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
The attendant had only been working at the Shell station for about thirty days, and he had no intention of losing his life over someone else’s paper. He reached beside the register, grabbed a plastic bag, and started filling it with money.
After the attendant handed him the bag, Don casually walked out of the store as if nothing had happened. To the common observer it looked like nothing was going on, but George wasn’t common: He’d worked as a security guard at Bank of America for the past four years, and he had seen the entire transaction between Don and the store attendant from his pickup truck in the parking lot.
Don noticed the toy cop in the gray truck when he stepped out of the store, but he kept it moving all the same. When he got back to the spot where he’d left Beijing, he found it empty. The gray pickup truck was trailing closely behind him. Don picked up his phone and called Beijing.
She answered on the second ring. Don looked around and asked, “Where are you?”
“I drove down the street to the BP to get gas; that’s the only brand my father uses in this baby.”
“I’m coming to you. Don’t move,” Don said before breaking out in a jog. He noticed the pickup still trailing, and the driver on the phone. Don didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that the Good Samaritan was talking with the police.
Don made it to the BP gas station, out of breath, and jumped in the passenger side of the Lincoln.
He hit the dashboard with the palm of his hand and demanded, “Go, go, go! Get out of here! Someone is following me!”
“What’s going on?” Beijing asked, confused. “Why would someone be chasing you?”
“Long story,” he said. “Right now I need you to drive.” They peeled out of the BP parking lot and hopped on 85 South with the pickup on their tail. “Speed up, girl, we need to lose that damn truck, and quick,” Don insisted.
Beijing was scared to death, but she pushed that car like she was trying to get a NASCAR deal. The front end of the luxury vehicle rose up and the speedometer read 130. After a while she didn’t see the truck in the rearview mirror anymore, and Don told her to take the next exit.
They got off, and then got back on heading in the opposite direction. “You can slow down now, I think we’re good.”
“What did you do back there?” Beijing asked, still shaken.
“Somebody tried to rob me,” Don lied, “and I shot the dude.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?”
“’Cause I’m a convicted felon,” he said. “They’ll lock me up for having a gun.”
Beijing had calmed down until she saw a police car parked on the side of the highway. “There’s the police,” she said, using her eyes and head to point them out in the mirror.
Damn, Don thought, I’m busted. From the far left lane they drove past the police car, careful to observe the speed limit, and to their relief the car stayed put. My lucky day, Don thought, they didn’t pen me.
“There’s another one,” Beijing said calmly, although she was scared shitless on the inside.
Just like the first one, this one stayed put. They rode past four more cruisers and all of them did the same thing: remained at the side of the road.
About two minutes after passing the sixth cop car, Don looked in the side mirror, and what he saw made his heart drop: All six police cars were right behind them.
“Shit!” Don yelled.
Beijing was tired of being on the wrong side of this cops-and-robbers shit. “I’m going to pull over, Don.”
“Just keep on driving until they hit their blue lights,” Don reasoned, but inside he knew he was done.
A highway sign said that they would hit the Charlotte city limits in nine miles. Don took another look in the mirror. “I don’t believe this shit.”
“What?” Beijing asked.
“They gone.”
Beijing didn’t know what to do. On the one hand she was relieved and on the other, she was paranoid. Once she reached the city limits she pulled over and called her father. Her heart was in her panties as the phone rang. She explained to Sterling, blow by blow, everything t
hat had transpired that night. She could hear the hurt and frustration in her father’s voice when he said two words before ending the conversation: “Torch it.”
CHAPTER 4
Faking the Funk
Beijing stood on top of the hill out in the boonies, watching her father’s custom car go up in flames down below. She shook her head. “I don’t fucking believe this shit.” She dropped her head. “I can’t believe it.” The car was in a full blaze.
“I apologize.” Don turned around to look in her big pretty eyes when he spoke. “I promise I’m going to make it up to you. I mean it.” He sounded sincere, but Beijing was too pissed to even care.
“Whatever,” Beijing said and put her hand up as if she wanted him to talk to the hand, not her. She wasn’t in the mood for empty promises.
“I swear on everything I love that I will somehow get you a new car.”
“The fucked-up shit about it is,” she said, frustrated, “it isn’t even my car. I keep telling you, it’s my father’s.” Then she screamed, “Goddamnit!” and popped Don upside his head with her pocketbook like an old lady fending off a would-be thief.
Don let her take out her frustrations on him. Tears were forming in his eyes because he felt so rotten inside for his actions.
“You going to sell that chain? Surely those big-ass diamonds can bring in some cash.” She poked him in the chest. “That’s what you gonna do.”
“Actually they ain’t really worth much of nothing,” Don admitted.
“Probably not as much as you paid for them, but I’m sure they are worth something.”
Don dropped his head and his ego and said, “Whatever we could get for the best cubic zirconia that money could buy, and you are welcome to it.”
“What?” Beijing almost broke her neck when she rolled her head to take a better look at the chain and pendant. “What did you say?”
“You know the saying: Fake it till you make it. This is the perfect example of that.” He lifted up the big cross medallion. “I’m on my way up the road to stardom but I ain’t there yet.”
“This necklace is fake?” She spoke slowly in disbelief. Then she walked off, saying, “Come on.” She almost stomped her foot, but she didn’t. “Shit!”
Beijing was disgusted with him. She bit down on her lip, not knowing how to fix the situation. The sad part was, she couldn’t even call her father to get his input. She didn’t see the need to worry him any more with this foolishness.
“I’m going to have to pimp your ass out or something,” she said, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “Sure hope you got some gold dripping from that dick of yours ’cause you might be holding a sign that says WOOD FOR SALE. ’Cause you are going to buy my daddy a new car. I don’t give a fuck if I gotta take it out yo’ ass.”
From the tone in her voice Don knew she meant business. He followed Beijing around like he was her little puppy dog.
“I’m going to have to call us a cab,” she told him, “since the car we arrived in is up in smoke.”
The ride back in the cab was awkward. The cab’s air conditioner was broken. The windows were steamed, but Beijing was cold as ice.
Once they arrived at the hotel, she didn’t speak to him until the elevator opened on his floor. “Don’t call me. I’ll call you,” she snapped.
“Beijing, I want you to know I’m really sorry.”
“You sure are,” she said as the elevator closed.
Hours went by and he kept calling her. She stuck her cell phone under her pillow and tried to ignore it so she could think clearly. Finally, the fifth time her cell rang again, she snatched it up and answered. “Didn’t I tell you not to call me!”
“Baby?” It was her daddy on the phone.
“Oh, Daddy. I’m … I’m sorry. I thought you were this lame guy who keeps pestering me,” she said.
“I’ll kill him if he bothers you, Beijing, baby,” Sterling said in his gruff voice and was dead serious about it. Her father was no joke; he had killed a dude or two back in the day when he was hustling in the streets. Though Sterling had been walking the straight and narrow for almost thirty years now, make no mistake about it, he had no problem busting a cap in anyone who fucked with his daughter.
“No need.” Beijing had taken her dad’s comment as a joke but had no idea that to her father it wasn’t. “He’s harmless except that …” Just then someone knocked on the door of her suite.
“Dang,” she muttered. “Hang on a second, Daddy.” She was glad for the interruption because she wasn’t really in the mood for the lecture that she knew her dad had prepared for her. She opened the door and there stood a bellboy holding a bouquet of a dozen white roses.
“For me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the young man said. “I tried to call up, but your room line was busy.”
“Yes, I have it off the hook,” she explained and then stood in awe of the beautiful flowers. “Who on earth?” She looked at the card inserted among the beautiful flowers knowing good and well that broke-ass Don hadn’t sent them. Or had he used his last dollar trying to make it up to her? She found the card.
I can’t stop singing your praises!
You are the best. Call me if there is anything you ever need.
Definitely indebted to you!
Your friend,
Johnny Wiz
Beijing tipped the man and closed the door. She had a big smile on her face as she picked up the phone.
“Daddy, are you still out of town?”
“Yes, baby. I’m on the road now. I don’t get home till next Tuesday.” Sterling’s tone was still calm as always. That was his demeanor all the time, but Beijing knew a lecture was on its way.
“Mmm. Okay. Well, I hope you’re having a nice trip.”
“We still need to talk about the ordeal.”
“I know. Can we talk about it when you return, because I don’t want to really talk about it over the phone?”
“You are right, over dinner when I return. However, I want you to know that I spoke to Greta and she has reported the car stolen.”
“Yes, Daddy.” Trying to get her father off the phone, she added, “I just want you to know that I love you.”
“I love you, too, baby. I gotta go now. Bye.”
Beijing hung up and stuck her nose into one of the big flowers. It smelled so sweet. She realized that Johnny might solve a couple of her problems. She did not think twice about calling him.
“My lovely Beijing,” he answered, “I take it you received the flowers?”
“I did. And how absolutely beautiful they are. Thank you so much, but you really didn’t have to.”
“No, thank you, Beijing. You spared me a lot of pain and embarrassment, and if there is anything that I can ever do, big or small, please don’t ever hesitate to ask.”
“Well, Johnny.” She paused to get her nerve up. “There kind of is.”
“Anything,” he shot back quickly. “You want my firstborn named after you? You got it.”
“That won’t be necessary, Johnny,” she said, smiling, as she continued to build up courage.
“Good, because as you know I probably won’t have any.” Johnny laughed for a second, loving that he could be himself with Beijing. “How about a trip to your namesake, Beijing? I hear the weather is gorgeous this time of year. Have you been there before?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Do you want to go?” he asked.
“I would love to, but that’s not it.”
“Just know I would send you to Beijing or to the moon for that matter, if you wanted to go. Let me know when and I will let you know what time the shuttle leaves!”
“I know you would, Johnny, and I really appreciate you offering to do so.”
“So, if I can’t name my firstborn after you and you don’t want to take me up on my offer to go to Beijing, the moon, or Saturn, all that’s left is the shirt off my back.”
“I’m good with shirts right now.” She smiled again.
“Well”—she took a deep breath—“I feel extremely awkward asking you for this.”
“I’m all ears and eager to please,” he said in a reassuring voice.
“This is totally out of character for me.”
“No, no … spit it out, or I am going to start guessing crazy things … like maybe you want to ask to have a threesome with my lover and myself perhaps,” he joked.
“No, that’s not it either.” She smiled again.
“Then do tell,” he demanded.
“Well, I hate to be like so many other people who ask you for things, but I won’t bore you with the events surrounding why I need this favor.” She took another deep breath and inhaled a little more confidence and a bit of cockiness. “And maybe after this call, you may owe me another favor because actually, I got something on my hands that I am pretty sure can bring us both some big revenue.”
His silence made her continue.
“You know I’m not the one to ever BS you, and I know people are tracking you down all the time begging you to put any and everybody’s momma on, but for real, Johnny, I have a rapper that’s the hottest thing since the hookers out at All-Star weekend trying to make a dollar out of fifteen cents.”
“Ooouch now, that’s hot. When can I check him out?”
“He has some music that I can email you.”
“Then what am I waiting for? You should have sent it as soon as you got it,” he said.
“I really need a deal for him, Johnny,” she said, putting on her damsel-in-distress voice.
“Send over the music, and if he’s half of what you say, on the strength of you alone, I will do it. Not for him, but for you.”
“Give me a few minutes and consider it sent,” Beijing said, feeling better already.
“And let’s be clear, this is your baby. If it’s what you say it is, I will break you off a piece for bringing it to me.”