God Don't Like Haters 2

by Jordan Belcher

  "I don't think you should quit working at Mount Eliyah," I said. "Not just yet."

  "Why?" She took a sip of wine, then gave me a conspiratorial eye. "You want me to be your spy?"

  "Yes, I do. But the other reason is because I'm not sure I can afford to sustain your lifestyle. You really have obtained some nice things. This place is incredible."

  "Thank you. Are you saying that La'Renz is broke?"

  "Oh, you know better than that. The media says I'm bankrupt but I have plenty favors I can call in."

  "It looks as though you already called in a couple favors. You show up in a Balenciaga suit ... And is that a Hublo watch you're wearing? I could never afford that."

  "Good eye," I smiled. "But yes, I made a few calls on my first day out. It's also within my legal right to sue some of the major companies—Sony, Coca-Cola, Walmart—for hundreds of millions. They owe me unpaid endorsements. Guaranteed I could settle in the tens. But I refuse to do that because it'll make me look desperate in the media's eyes. I'd rather collect from former associates and ask for favors under the table."

  "How much longer do you want me to work for Eliyah?"

  "Just until Taylor Music Group gets its first number one record. I'ma need you to keep scouring those submissions, giving the best ones to us. If an artist doesn't want to fuck with us, destroy their demo. I don't want Eliyah to have a chance to have 'em either."

  She nodded and took another sip of wine.

  "How is your and Thomas's relationship?" I asked.

  "Thomas Dyer? We're still friends."

  "When the time is right, do you think you can convince him to come back to Taylor Music Group? He won't listen to me. He tried to stab me in his office."

  "I doubt he'll listen to me either. He keeps his nose in Eliyah’s ass."

  "Literally?"

  She shrugged one shoulder. "Probably. They've been featured in magazines together. Thomas throws parties in Eliyah's name. They golf together."

  "Thomas never played golf."

  "He does now."

  "We could really use Thomas. He's a very dedicated business man. I need you to work on him while you're still employed there. Sow the seeds of doubt. Let him know that his talents can be better utilized elsewhere. Just don't let him know where that elsewhere is yet."

  "Got it."

  I told Sundi a little bit about my stay in prison. I omitted the part about me suffering from cocaine withdrawal and crying my eyes out in my cell alone because I couldn't snort a line. I didn't want to seem weak in her eyes. But she was still spellbound by my dark stories of solitude, the subhuman conditions, my favorite meal (Ramen noodle pizza), and she literally laughed out loud when I told her about my fight with a flaming homosexual who had nicknamed himself Jazzmine Short. It would have been an easy fight if I hadn't been worried about making the she-man bleed.

  Prison was hard for any man. But twice as hard for a celebrity of my magnitude.

  Sundi had set her drink down, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees as she soaked up my prison narrative. Her wonderful cleavage was showing now, even a hint of bra. It was distracting.

  So I said what the old La'Renz would have said: "How big are they now?"

  She followed my eyes, looking down at herself. "My breasts?"

  I nodded, then sipped more wine.

  "I'm a D now," she said.

  "You hit a growth spurt."

  She laughed. "They're my gift and my curse."

  Then she did something that nearly made me spit out my drink. She pulled her bra down and showed me her nipples. Prettiest pair ever, just like I remembered them. She smushed her right breast in and up, exposing the flesh underneath. I set my drink down and leaned forward for a better look. She was showing me some kind of dark brown birthmark.

  "Remember this?" she asked.

  I didn't. Squinting, I said, "No, am I supposed to?"

  "You did this during what was supposed to be foreplay. You were high on cocaine. You bit me so hard you busted a blood vessel, and when I screamed you still wouldn't stop. When I finally got you off of me I was bleeding and missing skin."

  I leaned back into my seat, fiddling with my necktie nervously. I felt horrible. I honestly didn't remember that episode.

  She fixed the cups of her bra and covered herself back up. "La’Renz, promise me you're done with the cocaine," she said. "If I'm gonna be on your team again, I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me that drugs won't be a part of our operation this time."

  "I promise," I said without hesitation.

  She seemed startled by my immediacy.

  "I filtered out all the negative aspects in myself while behind bars. It took time, but cocaine is no longer my demon. I've changed. I spent years disciplining myself for this moment when I could take back what's mine. I won't let anything stop me. Especially some stupid drug."

  "Is it your passion for music driving you, or your hate for Eliyah?"

  I hesitated. "It's the music. Always has been, always will be."

  "Do you wanna see the rest of my house?" she asked, not smiling.

  I was eager, but I didn't smile either. "I sure would, ma'am."

  "Follow me, sir."

  Like adults, we stood and she took my hand gently and led me to her room. We kissed inside the doorway—it was her who initiated it—then we fell on the bed together. I really had a thing for this woman.

  I stood back up and began undoing my cuff links. "Would you like me to refill your glass of wine before we commence?"

  She finally gave me a smile. "Just half full, if you don't mind. I'm a lady."

  I took our empty glasses to the kitchen and set them on the counter. Then I went back into the living room and peeked around the corner to see if she could still see me.

  I was in the clear.

  Quietly, I went inside my suit jacket that she hung on the coat rack and I fished out the pack of cocaine that mafia boss Julian Beltrán dropped in my pocket at the club earlier. I took the coke to the kitchen and cut the wrapping down the middle with a knife. Sprinkles of powder dropped onto the counter.

  I took my pinky finger and pressed it into the cocaine as if I was fingerprinting. Then with the residue that was left on my fingertip, I put it onto my tongue. The taste was explosive! Definitely good shit. I didn't know if Julian had refined his product or if it had simply been so long since I dillydallied in coke that anything I tried would have tasted good.

  I wanted to snort a line. I really really really did. Just one line. Fuck! I thought I was more disciplined than this.

  "La'Renz, I'm reaaa-deee!" Sundi called from the bedroom in a sing-songey voice.

  Sundi Ashworth. My new partner. My gorgeous new partner. The only person that believed in me right now.

  Resolutely, I started shaking the cocaine out into the sink. "Don't get sidetracked, La'Renz. Stick to the plan," I said to myself. "If you don't, Eliyah wins."

  The coke was sticking to the wrapping as if it didn't want to go. But I forced it out. Then I cut the faucet on and watched all the powder swirl down the drain.

  Chapter 3

  Kirbie Amor Capelton

  Monifa really did have a gun. It was a black 9mm. Coras grabbed her wrist and wrestled it out of her hand just in time. Because if he hadn't, I would've shot that bitch.

  "Coras, let me go!" Monifa screamed.

  Coras passed Gee her gun so he could free up both hands and wrap her in a tighter bear hug. She was trying to charge across the room at me. But coming at me would do her no good. I still had my .380 out.

  "Calm down, Monifa," Coras growled in her ear. But she wouldn't stop struggling. "You don't wanna go over there. Gee, help me out!"

  Gee moved into action.

  "If you put your drunk-ass hands on me, Gee, I'm telling my brother Milo!" Monifa shouted.

  Gee stopped.

  "Grab her!" Coras ordered. "Grab her!"

  Gee finally helped out. They pinned her to the ground. She seemed possessed. M
y heart was pumping fast. I wanted to fight for Coras too. I wanted to shoot her or beat her ass.

  "Let me go!" Monifa was in full tantrum mode. "Kirbie ain't got the balls to shoot me!"

  "Yes, she does," Coras snapped at her. "You know she does. Calm down!"

  "No! You're down here fucking her every day and I'm thinking you're actually in the studio working! I'm gonna fuck you up, Coras! Let me go, Gee!"

  "We were working, Monifa."

  I didn't understand why Coras was explaining himself. Why didn't he just tell the bitch the truth and send her on her way?

  "You think I'm stupid? She was sitting in your lap and you were kissing her!"

  "We were just acting out a scene for a video," he explained. "I don't fuck wit' Kirbie like that. That's lil' sis."

  My jaw dropped? Lil' sis? When did I become lil' sis? I wanted to shoot Coras now.

  "I love you, Monifa. Don't act like you don't know that. All I need is you. What you saw was acting. We talked about how I'm gonna take acting classes after I blow up in the rap game."

  "You practice on me and only me!"

  "Okay, whatever you want." Coras looked at me like I was the enemy. "Kirbie, put that gun up. Get out of here."

  My mouth was still hanging open. "You want me to leave?" I said in disbelief.

  I didn't understand. I recorded here. I made hits, not Monifa.

  "Kirbie, you see she's gon' crazy. Leave! She won't calm down until you leave!"

  I felt tears welling in my eyes. We just shared our first kiss and now he was kicking me out? I felt foolish to believe he'd drop her and choose me. I had finally opened my heart up to him. He took what he wanted and closed me back up.

  "Kirbie!" he said viciously. "Get out!"

  I stormed past them, up the steps and out the house into the pouring rain. Once inside my Mercedes, I sat for a moment looking ahead through my rain-swept windshield at Monifa’s car that was parked in front of me. I wanted to do something bad to it, like shoot her tires out or break her windows.

  But then I realized how stupid that would be. I wasn’t anything to Coras. My feelings for him were wrong and misplaced.

  So instead of violence, I decided on posting a status to my profile page to sum up my anger.

  Kirbie Amor: Sometimes you think you’re more important to somebody than you really are. Tonight was a wake-up call. We hate those calls, but we have to answer ‘em sooner or later.

  Chapter 4

  La'Renz "Buddy Rough" Taylor

  With Sundi, I enjoyed missionary sex, holding her legs up and back and out. I loved to watch her face twist and contort as I fucked her. I could always tell by her strange facial expressions when I was going too hard. The "tight-lipped, squinted eyes" look meant I was in her comfort zone. She loved this zone. The "bared teeth, squeezed shut eyes" look meant I had entered no man's land.

  I favored this zone.

  It was warmer at the bottom of her womb.

  "Baby, eaaaasy,” she hissed.

  "Seven years, you expect me to be easy?"

  "Try, please try."

  I let her legs come forward some, so she wasn't forced to stretch as much. "That better?"

  "Uh-huh."

  A moment later she was on top of me, riding me in an aggressive rhythm that seemed to be challenging the way I had just fucked her. She was trying to outdo me! I wanted to reach up and squeeze her big pretty breasts, but from my flat position, that dark brown scar would wink at me every time her titties bounced up and down. It was a scary reminder of my past cocaine addiction.

  I opted to squeeze her booty instead. My fingertips found the fine hairs in between her cheeks. It was moist here.

  After an hour, we both collapsed into each other's sweaty arms.

  "Oh my goodness you're the devil," she said out of breath.

  "You wanna know who the real devil is?"

  "Who?"

  "Eliyah Golomb."

  "Let's not talk about him. Let's talk about us." She kissed me on the cheek. "He's not allowed in my bedroom."

  I thought about the picture of her and Eliyah together on her Site page and wondered how true that statement was.

  "I don't plan to live here very long," I told her.

  She looked offended. "Why?"

  "I'm gonna need my space. I've had to share my space with other people for seven years and I just need to be alone for a time. I need to get my thoughts together."

  "That sounds like a cop-out. They were male inmates, I'm a woman."

  "It's not about gender. It's about human contact. Sometimes a man just needs to be alone. Needs to be able to think, uninterrupted."

  "My home isn't a prison cell. There's plenty of nooks and crannies in here and in this neighborhood where you can get lost. You don't have to move out." She kissed me again, three pecks. "Please stay? I've missed you, La'Renz."

  She said this to me before. I've missed you, La'Renz. It was when the lid got blown off of our affair by sources connected to GabbyTV. A video recording of me and Sundi having sex in my mansion popped up on the internet. Somebody filmed us through an open window. I staunchly denied my presence on the tape, and so did Sundi. To cut off speculation I stopped going out with Sundi after work, stopped sleeping with her altogether. Paparazzi had become rapacious vampires, so the no-sex stint lasted months. Jazzmine had to conduct interviews where she was questioned about my infidelity and she stood behind me—that wasn't my husband on that tape, she professed. But behind closed doors I had to feel her wrath. And she let the world know subtly that she was on to me by singing her heart out on chart-topping songs about unfaithfulness.

  When things died down and me and Sundi finally hooked up again, she said these words to me: I've missed you, La'Renz.

  "I think I found my next Jazzmine Short," I said as I came out of my thoughts.

  Sundi smacked my chest, offended again. "Jazzmine's not allowed in my bedroom either."

  "No, this isn't about her. This is about a singer I stumbled upon. Her name is Kirbie Amor. She's dope."

  "How'd you find her?"

  "Those submissions I stole from your boss."

  "I thought you didn't find anything."

  "I found Kirbie but when I called, her manager blew me off. I was gonna leave the whole ordeal alone but then I heard DJ East spinning her tonight. I got inspired all over again. I think it's manifest destiny that she's gonna be my first artist."

  "Why did you call the manager and not the artist directly?"

  "Only the phone number for the manager was listed."

  "Yeah, La'Renz, but every artists' contact info is almost always listed on the back of the CD. Maybe not a phone number, but there should have at least been a Site contact."

  "The Site? Social media?"

  "Yes, social media is a legitimate, professional form of contact next to e-mail now. Things have changed since you've been gone. You should have seen a small 'at' sign, the lowercase 'a' with a circle around it"—she made small loopty-loops with her finger—"in front of her Site name. That's a contact."

  I was almost certain I had seen it. "The Site?" I said again, being sure.

  "Yes!" she insisted.

  Galvanized, I sat up quickly and swung my legs out of bed. Sundi grabbed my arm.

  "Where are you going?" she asked.

  "Back to my hotel to get the CD," I said.

  "It's almost three o'clock in the morning. Are you crazy?"

  "We both know a lot of successful people that are crazy."

  "La'Renz, we're not going all the way over to Manhattan at this time of night. We'll go tomorrow. Or, since today is technically tomorrow, we'll go later."

  "We'll go now. I don't want Kirbie to get away."

  Sundi rolled over and grabbed a coin off of her nightstand. It was a silver half dollar.

  "Let's flip for it," she said. "If it's heads, I'll drive you to Manhattan right now. If it's tails, you stay and make love to me for another hour and we sleep in and then we wake up and make t
he trip to your hotel to get all your stuff."

  I chuckled. Back in the day we used to flip a coin for everything—who was going to pay for lunch, which single to leak online, who was going to perform oral sex on who first. Her fun side hadn't changed much. I took the coin from her to make sure both sides weren't the same.

  "You think I'd cheat you?" she said.

  "Women are creatures of guile."

  "So are men."

  "I'll flip it. Or no deal."

  "Be my guest," she said.

  With the flick of my thumb, the coin twirled in the air. Together, we watched it spin and land in my palm as I whammed it on the back of my other hand. I didn't lift my top hand right away. I wanted to give her a little suspense.

  "C'mon, let's see," she laughed.

  I removed my hand.

  Tails.

  Chapter 5

  Kirbie Amor Capelton

  I stood at the front door of me and Archie's home, not prepared to go in. I had been crying the whole way here. Coras had just made me feel cheap and used. He had treated me like I meant nothing. He chose Monifa over me.

  As I tried to wipe my tears away, I knew it would do no good. I looked a mess. And I felt worse. I knew what I had to do on the other side of this door, but I wasn't sure if I could follow through. I took a deep breath, then I put my key in the door and turned the knob. Archie heard me enter.

  "In here, baby," he called out from the dining room.

  I adjusted my .380 to be sure it would stay put in my waist, then I followed his voice to the dining room. I was surprised to see he had cooked another elaborate meal, which was laid out neatly in the middle of the table. And I was utterly shocked to see my father sitting across from him.

  "What's going on?" I asked.

  "I went to pick up your father," Archie smiled.

  "I see."

  But you also went to go pick up our pills from the fake robbery, you dirty muthafucka.

  I looked at my daddy.

  My father said, "Archie told me you wanted me over here for dinner. Said you had a surprise for me."