Doing My Own Thing

Home > Other > Doing My Own Thing > Page 15
Doing My Own Thing Page 15

by Nikki Carter


  “Because it’s so much easier to pretend to rise above it. You can’t win a fight with someone who throws rocks and then hides behind their laptop.”

  I point at the black shoes. “Those match the best.”

  She’s wearing black shorts and a silver baby tee. She looks glamorous in everything she puts on, which is why I’m totally surprised that she cares what the bloggers have to say. She could wear a plastic bag and flip-flops and still look hot.

  “Come on, girl, before Zac starts fussing about me taking too long.”

  As we hurry back to the guys, I think about how normal Zac and Mystique are in their relationship. I mean they are both multi-platinum multimillionaires and they have the most regular conversations and disagreements.

  I wonder if Sam and I will have the same kind of relationship.

  But Sam and I are kind of lopsided, or unevenly yoked as my mother would call it. I’m blowing up and he’s still on the come up.

  When we get back to the guys, there is a car waiting for us. A normal car. Not a limo or some kind of luxury sedan. This is out of the ordinary for Zac and Mystique. They always travel in excessive luxury. The BET cameraman is going to have to follow in another car, because there’s barely enough room in this little hatchback for the four of us.

  “What’s going on with Truth and Drama?” Mystique asks as we squeeze into the backseat. Zac sits in the front, and I’m sandwiched between Mystique and Sam.

  “I don’t know. Their typical stuff, I guess. She’s jealous beyond reason and he just does stuff to make her even more jealous.”

  “Enough about those two,” Zac says. “I’ve got some better news.”

  “What is it?” Mystique asks.

  “It’s not for you babe, it’s for Sam.”

  Sam perks up and cheeses. “What’s popping?”

  “Well, I’ve been listening to the music you and Sunday put together for Bethany and Drama, and the tracks you did for Truth’s album. You are too talented to be wasting away in Big D’s basement.”

  Sam swallows hard. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you should be working for me, for my label. With a real budget, real equipment, and real perks. You shouldn’t be a roadie on tour, man. You’re a producer.”

  Sam says, “Big D has been good to me, don’t get it twisted.”

  “See, Mystique. That’s what I’m talking about,” Zac says. “Loyalty. People are loyal to you when you treat them well. It’s a lesson Drama should learn.”

  I hear what Zac is saying, but I can’t believe my ears. Is he actually offering Sam a job and is Sam turning it down to stay with Big D?

  “But anyway,” Zac says, “I’m not saying anything bad about Big D. He’s given you a start in the industry. He’s groomed you for bigger and better things. He would think you were crazy to turn down this opportunity.”

  “What exactly is the opportunity?” Sam asks. “You haven’t actually said it yet.”

  “I want you to come work for me at my New York office. You’d split time between NYC and ATL, but the bulk of my new talent is in New York.”

  Hold up and wait a minute! Sam and I are just now getting the boyfriend/girlfriend swag on lock, and here comes Zac messing up our flow.

  “I gave Zac some of Sam’s tracks,” Mystique says. “And he is completely blown away.”

  “Sam is supposed to be going to Georgia Tech in the fall,” I say.

  Sam gives me a look that I can’t decipher. It’s not angry, but maybe it’s hurt. Yeah, that’s it. He looks like I just pinched him or something.

  “School can wait if I’m going to get a chance to work on some multimillion-dollar projects,” Sam says. “But I need to talk to Big D and see how he feels about it. He’s never steered me wrong before.”

  “That’s fair enough, and I like that you respect that relationship enough to not burn any bridges. You’re smart, Sam, and I think you’ll go far in the industry with that attitude.”

  Who cares how far he goes in the industry? If he’s in New York City, how in the world is he supposed to be my college boyfriend?

  I don’t say anything else for the remainder of the thirty-minute drive to Harrison’s Cave. The drive is scenic enough that I can just pretend to be taking in the sights. But really, I’m in trip-out mode and I’m torn. I want Sam to get his big break, don’t get me wrong. I just don’t want it to take him away from me.

  When we get to the cave, the first thing we do is sit for a while in the Visitor Reception Center. There is a cruise ship coming in and they don’t want to start the tour without them.

  As we’re sitting on a bench in the middle of the room, Mystique says, “Could we be any more on display than this? I’m not feeling this, Zac. And we’re taking the tour with a whole cruise ship full of people?”

  “It could be a bunch of old people who don’t even recognize you,” I say.

  Zac says, “Or it could be your fans, which would be even better. Imagine how much a fan would love to say they went on a tour of Harrison’s Cave with Mystique.”

  When this doesn’t seem to appease Mystique, Zac says, “Okay, I’ll see if we can go ahead and start the tour.”

  “Thank you, baby.”

  Mystique frowns and folds her arms across her chest. I think she’s just mad that the staff at the cave didn’t do anything special or roll out the red carpet for her. Mystique arrived on the scene and it was just business as usual.

  Actually, now that I think about it, it’s kind of funny!

  What’s not funny is the scowl on Sam’s face. I know he means it for me too, because he keeps tossing it over in my direction. I also know it has something to do with his offer from Zac, but I’m not about to ask him. Not while he’s looking like that, and not when an argument is looming over our new romance like a storm cloud.

  Zac walks back up with one of the cave employees. It looks like a manager.

  “Ms. Mystique, please accept our apologies. The workers simply did not recognize you, but we would love to allow you and your party access to the cave in a private viewing.”

  Mystique’s frown melts away and she becomes that syrupy sweet, loving, and humble pop star again.

  “It’s really not a problem,” she says. “We wouldn’t want to trouble you at all. Is it too much trouble?”

  “No! Not at all. I would love to be your own personal tour guide. We love your music in Barbados.”

  Mystique smiles as she stands to her feet. I almost burst into laughter when she gives the manager a little handshake and hug like she’s the Queen of England. I can tell Sam is trying not to laugh too. Zac grins and rolls his eyes as the clearly enamored manager locks arms with Mystique and leads her to the glass elevator that descends to the caves.

  I jab Sam in the ribs as we follow the group. “What’s up, Sam? Why you looking all twisted?”

  He shrugs, but doesn’t reply. Hmmm . . . it’s worse than I thought.

  As we ride down from the cliff to the bottom of the valley, we listen to the chirpy manager give much history about the cave. Typically, I like listening to this type of scientific stuff, but I can’t do anything but focus on Sam’s deepened frown.

  After the elevator ride, we’re led to a tram that looks like a miniature version of one of the roller-coaster rides at Six Flags.

  I slide in next to Sam, and he folds his arms against his chest and tightens his lips.

  I ask, “Are you going to keep looking crazy, or are you going to tell me what’s on your mind? I’m not a mind reader, you know.”

  Sam ignores me and locks his seat belt. I cannot believe he’s just ignoring my questions like I haven’t said anything.

  The tram ride is forty minutes long, and Sam sits here and gives me the silent treatment for the entire forty minutes. Finally, it’s over and we’re in the heart of the cave, underground, with beauty all around us. We get out of the tram so that we can explore.

  Sam tries to march away from me, but I meet him step for step. I follo
w him to a far corner of the cave where the stalactites jut out from the ceiling like limestone icicles. For a moment, I’m so caught up in the beauty of the cave that I forget about Sam’s foul mood.

  “Isn’t this beautiful?” I ask. “I’ve never seen anything like this in my life.”

  He spins around and says, “Sunday, I’m angry because you weren’t happy for me when Zac offered me the job. There. Now leave me alone so I can get my head right. Go explore the cave with Mystique.”

  “No. Not before I say that you’re right.”

  “Huh?”

  “I wasn’t happy when I first heard it, because all I could think about was us being separated.”

  Sam’s nose flares. “I would’ve been happy for you, Sunday. I’ve been happy for you with every new thing that’s come your way.”

  I take one of Sam’s hands in mine, and I feel him relax. “I know, I know. I am glad for you now, though, and I think Big D will be too.”

  “I don’t know about Big D, Sunday. I really need you to have my back, because I don’t think he’s gonna want to lose me. He doesn’t have another producer and Epsilon is snatching up his best artists.”

  “So he can just do what he does best, right? Develop new talent.”

  “But Big D has always wanted to blow up too. I wish Epsilon Records would give him some kind of honorary executive gig with a big office and a window.”

  “You think that maybe we can make that happen?” I ask. “I mean, Big D is my manager. He’s always gonna be in my camp. He’s got my back, and I trust him.”

  Sam shakes his head. “We don’t have the pull yet to make that happen, but maybe one day.”

  “Until then, he’s not going to hold you back from you doing what you gotta do, Sam. Big D’s heart is too big for all that.”

  “What about you, Sunday? You’re not going to have a change of heart about me, are you?”

  “You mean about you working for Zac, or our relationship?”

  “Both. Are you gonna be okay if I blow up too? Are you still gonna be my boo?”

  I give Sam a gigantic smile. “You’re gonna be my boo whether you blow up or not. You just better remember that when those NYC groupie chicks push up on you.”

  Sam chuckles quietly as if a big laugh might disturb the cave.

  “I don’t know what you’re laughing about. I hear the New York groupies are on a whole other level than the ones in ATL.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t know, and I don’t want to know . . . because I only want one girl.”

  “That would be me?” I ask sweetly.

  Sam kisses my forehead. “That would be you.”

  23

  We’re back at the hotel, getting ready for our night in St. Lawrence Gap or De Gap if you’re one of the Bajan locals. Bethany tries on outfits and models them for me and Dilly (who looks a hundred-percent better).

  I can’t keep my mind off of Sam, though. He took a walk with Big D to tell him about Zac’s offer. I think Big D saw it coming, because the look on his face was of quiet resignation. I think he knows that we can all be bigger than Atlanta local artists, but I just hope he doesn’t feel slighted by Sam’s departure from Big D in the A Records.

  “What about this one?” Bethany asks.

  It’s a clingy silver tube dress that she’s coupled with some black and silver heeled sandals. It looks very good on her and it hugs every one of her ample curves. I think it’s hot, but Dilly frowns.

  “You’re not wearing that,” Dilly says.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t want any guys trying to look at my girl.”

  Bethany looks at me and we both crack up laughing.

  “Dilly, you aren’t her daddy,” I say. “Nor are you her husband. Stop tripping! Boyfriends don’t get to tell their girlfriends what to do.”

  “Okay, okay,” Dilly says, hands raised in defeat. “I’m asking you not to wear that. I’m asking if you would please, please wear something that covers a little bit more of your body.”

  Bethany pokes her lips out and puts a hand on her hip. “What if I say no?”

  “Then I’m going to be forced to not hang with the guys all night and follow you all over The Gap.”

  Bethany laughs out loud. “Okay, I’ll change, but not because you told me to, but because I want you to have fun and not be miserable.”

  “Thank you,” Dilly says with a satisfied grin.

  Bethany goes into the bedroom to change into something else. While she’s out of the sitting room, her cell phone buzzes on the table. Then it buzzes again.

  Dilly and I make eye contact.

  His chest heaves up and down. I know he’s trying to keep himself from grabbing that phone. I see his restraint slipping. . . .

  “Don’t . . .” I say.

  But it’s too late. Dilly picks up the BlackBerry and reads the text messages. It must be all bad because he bites his lip, swallows hard, and drops the phone on the floor.

  “I-I gotta go,” he says before making a mad dash to the door.

  Crap! Crap! Crap!

  Bethany comes back out of the bedroom wearing a cute jean-short onesie, and a scarf around her neck.

  “Where’s Dilly?” she asks.

  I just shake my head and point to her BlackBerry.

  She gulps.

  Crap! Crap! Crap!

  “I can explain,” Bethany says as she retrieves her BlackBerry.

  I shake my head. “Don’t explain anything to me. Explain it to your boyfriend.”

  She reads the text messages and groans. Then she growls. “I hate Truth. I really, really hate him.”

  “You still messing with him?” I ask.

  “No, I’m not still messing with him, but he won’t leave me alone. He’s been texting me since we’ve been down here trying to get me to meet up with him.”

  “And you told him no.”

  “Of course I told him no! Why do you sound so suspicious?”

  Is she seriously asking me this question? She’s the one who steals everybody’s boyfriends and does everyone dirty. How can she expect me not to sound suspicious of her?

  “Bethany, you’re tripping. Dilly is a good guy, and he really likes you. You should’ve been up-front with him. How do you expect him to believe anything you say to him now?”

  “I can show him all my sent messages where I told Truth to stop texting me.”

  I bite my lip and think on this a moment. I don’t know if it’ll be enough to make Dilly believe her. She’s got too much of a history of being foul. But even though she’s got history, the tears in her eyes make me think that she might be telling the truth.

  Finally, I say, “My mother always tells me that you don’t ever have to prove you’re telling the truth because God always reveals a lie.”

  “But there’s no lie here, only a misunderstanding.”

  “I guess you have to try to make him understand. But do it quickly. Don’t give him too much time to think about it.”

  “Where were the guys meeting before they leave?”

  “At Zac’s villa.”

  “Will you go with me? I can’t have Dilly thinking this about me all night long. I just can’t.”

  Bethany is full-on crying now and as much as I hate to admit it, I truly believe her. I’ve seen her tell lies, so I could basically be a human lie detector when it comes to Bethany. I just hope that Dilly believes her too, else the BET cameras are going to have some drama-filled breakup footage to add to their collection.

  24

  “Is Dilly here?” Bethany asks Mystique when we get to Zac’s villa.

  Mystique has got her party clothes on—a bright colorful mini dress and yellow heels. She flips her wig out of her face and appraises Bethany. She looks her up and down and then takes her tear-streaked face into her hand.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she asks. “And does it have anything to do with why you’re looking for Dilly?”

  Bethany glances at the BET cameraman out the corne
r of her eye. “I-I just need to talk to him.”

  “I don’t want any drama tonight!” Mystique says. “Y’all youngsters stay mad and arguing about something. We’re in Barbados, for crying out loud! Let your hair down and have some fun. Y’all too dang intense all the time.”

  I clear my throat. “Um, that . . . well, that was pretty intense, Mystique. Maybe you should go lie down and chill for a minute.”

  She looks at me and smiles. “Okay, Captain Obvious, you got me. That was kind of intense, but y’all are getting on my nerves with all this teen angst.”

  “We’re teenagers,” I say. “What do you expect?”

  Bethany gives a big sigh. “I just love how y’all are making jokes when I’ve got a serious issue to attend to. Is Dilly here or not?”

  “He’s not here. Try him and Sam’s room.”

  Bethany turns to leave, but I hold up one hand. I dial Sam’s cell phone number.

  “Hey, boo,” he says with a chuckle.

  I want to stay serious for Bethany’s face, but I can’t stop the smile from exploding onto my face. “Hey, boo! Is Dilly there with you?”

  “Naw. I thought he was in y’all room.”

  “He ran out.”

  “Good grief. Why did he run out? What happened?”

  “Tell you lata. Amera-cay.”

  Sam says, “The camera dude is near you?”

  “Yeppers.”

  “Okay, so just answer my questions with yes or no responses.”

  “Okay.”

  “Is Bethany playing Dilly again?”

  “No . . . I don’t think so.”

  “Does Dilly think she’s playing him again?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does Dilly think she’s playing him with Truth?”

  “Yes.”

  Sam says, “I’m sick of their triangle. Bethany ain’t all that for these dudes to be getting so twisted over.”

  “You just got extra points by saying that, you know.”

  Sam laughs. “I didn’t know we were taking score.”

  “I’m always taking score. Right now you’re ahead. Keep that in mind while you’re out with Zac tonight.”

  Bethany taps my shoulder. Hard. Okay, I know girlfriend is stressed, but she needs to fall back with the physical contact. I look down at her finger like it’s a bug I’m going to squash and she quickly removes it.

 

‹ Prev