I locked the doors, flipped the sign around to closed and took my shoes off for a well-deserved break. The couch was calling my name. I curled up and swore I’d only rest my eyes for a few minutes.
Before I knew it, I was in a deep abyss. Some call it sleep, I call it the devil’s playground. The place where all my fears culminated in bad nasty dreams. The image of Jake and Sirena in True Beauty, eating each other up like they’d missed a week’s worth of meals. Then came the worse part—they weren’t in the movie anymore, just two silly kids in love shopping for baby clothes.
Baby clothes!
I hyperventilated before rolling off the couch, landing on the floor still struggling to realize it was only a bad dream.
Check One, Check Two
Jake signaled to the driver to stay in the car. “I got it.” He opened the door for Sirena. His solid hand rested on her back, but only for a second.
She slid inside. “This limo is spinning. Or is it me? Out of control?” She giggled. “I need to call someone.” She pulled out her phone. “Oh, that’s right, I don’t have anyone to call. ’Cause the only person I want to talk to is right here.” She slapped the leather seat. “I don’t bite, Jay. God, I’m so sick of this arm’s-length thing you got going. Whatha—seriously?”
He shook his head and stared out the window. He remained on the other side.
She wiggled out of her boots, pushed her foot between his legs, and wiggled her toes. He grabbed her by the ankle and moved her foot to rest on the cushion.
“Big baby,” she said before slapping on the door to find the button to lower the window. “I’m going to be sick.”
After pulling over so Sirena could hurl her breakfast and five cocktails they were back in traffic.
The distance to the MTV studio was no more than five blocks. Jake could’ve run it in three minutes. Sitting in traffic, barely inching along, Sirena slept. He’d adjusted her head when it rolled forward, then stretched her out more comfortably. He couldn’t help stroking her hair out of her face. That’s when he saw the person she used to be, the one who’d driven him crazy with jealousy. All those many years ago, he couldn’t stand it even when she talked to another man, because it was never just talking. She oozed warmth and vulnerability. On studio sets, from the artist to the camera guy, they all believed they stood a chance. Whether they were shopping in the produce aisle or stopping at a gas station, she was a magnet. It was constant, like a warm beam of light attracting every flying insect.
Never-ending battle, trying to rein her in. Protect her. Even now he could feel it starting. The enormous responsibility on his shoulders had begun to wear him down when he should feel nothing but relief that she wasn’t his problem.
I don’t need this shit.
I got my wife at home.
The car pulled up to the thirty-story steel and glass building. The guard and the driver exchanged hellos in what could’ve been construed as a foreign language. Heavy Bronx dialect was all. Jake’s mother was a die-hard New Yorker. Though she’d moved to Los Angeles at the tender age of fourteen she refused to let go of her hard vowels, dragging them till they could go no further, going deeper into her New York accent whenever her sister or aunts called to say, How you doin’?
Times like these he could hear his mother’s voice in his head, “Your stubborn ass is gonna fall into some shit you can’t talk your way out of. Mark my words.”
The gate rose and the limo pulled ahead. He’d already fallen into some shit, and then some. Homicide charges. His company embezzled to its knees. His best friend responsible for it all. Dealing with Sirena was a walk in the park. He just had to figure out where the trail was going to end. ’Cause end it shall.
“Sirena.” He shook her gently. When she barely moved, he tapped her face. “Hey, MTV, ready or not.” Jake had a feeling this interview would have to be canceled.
She popped up swinging. Her wild flailing arms missed him by a few inches, but the air swiping across his face made him know she meant business.
“Don’t you ever put yo hands on me!” she yelled out, her eyes still closed.
He lifted his arms in truce. “Hey, hey, it’s me, Jay. You all right?”
Sirena moved the hair out of her face. She quickly became alert and embarrassed at the same time. “I’m sorry. I … I was dreaming.” She looked around, out the window, then rushed to her bag. “Shit, the interview. I’m looking like a two-dollar ho. You could’ve reminded me we were coming here before I downed those drinks.”
“I’m not your handler.” Although that’s exactly what he felt like. Underpaid help.
“I didn’t say you were. But you are my friend.” Her head rocked side to side. “Friends have each other’s back. Isn’t that what you’re always preaching? Little hard to practice, huh?” She flipped open her pocketbook and made an ill attempt at putting on lipstick, smudging a tiny bit between her fingers and rubbing it in her cheeks for blush. Now she looked like a two-dollar ho.
The door swung open. Ramona stood squarely, holding her BlackBerry like a guiding light. “You are late.”
Outside I heard the doors of the van creak open and close. Trevelle’s laughter and Vin’s deep Jersey accent carried through the walls. I stood up from where I’d landed on the floor and still couldn’t get my bearings. The store was completely dark. How long had I slept? The dream had my heart pumping erratically. Just a dream, I told myself to calm down.
I checked my watch and realized I was going to be late for the recital. I still hadn’t heard back from Jake. When the phone started buzzing, I snatched it up quickly. “Hello,” I answered without looking at the caller ID.
“I’m surprised you answered.” Airic’s steely voice could cut ice cubes. “I have a favor.”
“This isn’t your weekend,” I started before he could finish.
“I realize that. But it’s Mya’s recital. I really thought I should be there.”
Why?
“I thought you were really, really busy with your child bride and new baby.”
He stayed silent long enough for me to feel bad about that comment. “I really don’t mind if you come.” I caved in pretty quickly. I could count this in the good karma column. “I’d just appreciate it if you kept a little distance. Jake will be there, and you two are like gas and a lit match.”
“No problem. If I see him, I’ll completely ignore him. It’s he that likes to antagonize me, remember that.”
“One hundred yards, how’s that?” I finally found my car keys. “I’ll leave a ticket at the door for you.”
“Tickets? It’s a six-year-old’s recital.”
“She’s five. Her birthday is not until next month, but a father would know that.” Bad Venus. Bad. “Besides, it’s not my policy. The dance school is very strict about who attends these things. Don’t worry about it, your ticket will be waiting.”
“Actually, I’ll need two.”
“Ohh, nooo, you’re not bringing your child bride. You’re not. That’s just not going to fly.”
Vince finally came inside and moved past me slower than usual. He had a nasty habit of listening to my conversations. He claimed it was the only way he could get any information out of me by already knowing the first half. Trevelle was close behind him.
“I already have to deal with your last mistake,” I whispered. “I’m not going to be on gal-pal terms with this one too. Do not bring her,” I hissed. I faced the wall so Trevelle wouldn’t overhear. “One ticket will be waiting … do you hear me? Not two.”
“At some point, you’re going to have to grow up,” he announced. “The world does not revolve around your idiosyncrasies.”
“One ticket. One world. Don’t like it, find another one.” I clicked the phone off.
“Are you headed out?”
“What gave it away?” I smartly snapped at Trevelle before letting the door slam. My adrenaline was revved high. Airic had that effect on me. We’d been engaged for two years before I realized what a jerk he
was with a capital J. I thought he was the perfect man, older, wiser. I appreciated his no-nonsense approach to life. Black and white, no gray, or shades of ambiguity. He wanted a wife and I wanted a husband, the details didn’t matter. It was only after meeting Jake and seeing what real love looked like up close and personal did I realize the mistake I was making. By then I was already pregnant with Mya. Jake didn’t care whose baby I was carrying. He made sure I understood there was only one thing he wanted: me.
Who could ask for anything more? To be wanted and cared for was all any of us wanted. That simple.
can’t wait to see you. Jake’s text came across my screen, and not a moment too soon.
No Diggity, No Doubt
Countless times Jake had come into greenrooms of TV stations expecting the place to look like the set—plush couches and chairs, coffee, maybe a Danish or two. To the contrary. Rat traps. The couch sunk in so far, he was sure if he sat down, he’d never be able to get back up. The coffee in the Pyrex container had coagulated into a slick brown sludge.
“A little water and we’re in business.” He put the glass container back on the heat. “Let me see if I can find you some real coffee.”
“I’m fine,” Sirena slurred. “Besides, you’re not my handler, remember.”
Ramona must’ve heard her cue to show up on the scene. She stomped on the parquet floor carrying two bottles of water. “You both look like shit.”
“I’ve been on rough duty.” He uncapped the bottle and drank until it was empty. He could officially say, the thrill was gone. This was their third stop of the day, and last. He checked his watch. The flight at three p.m. would get him to Mya’s recital in plenty of time.
A makeup artist came in with the energy of a paramedic sent to rescue. Her purple and black hair stuck up high and straight in a mohawk. She rolled open her black bag of tricks and got to work on Sirena.
Calmness rose around her like a blanket. Having someone pampering her was an instant salve. Sirena flipped through a fashion magazine, relaxed and contented while the makeup artist brushed her with magic. She was in her element. MTV had been kind to her. Built her up from square one. Hundreds of beautiful new talents came on the scene every day, but none had been welcomed with open arms like Sirena Lassiter. Even now they’d planned to devote the entire half hour to the movie.
Mohawk gathered her things without a thank you or you’re welcome. Sirena went about business as usual, not bothering to check if the job was well done. Her eyes were bright and her skin glowed. No one would guess she’d been a drunken mess only a few minutes ago.
“I can’t believe this,” Sirena spoke out of the blue. “Remind me to fire Raquel as my stylist. This trick got the same dress on I wore for the Harper’s Bazaar cover.” She was talking to herself because Jake wasn’t listening.
The producer breezed in with her headset over a mass of wild wavy hair. Just the sight made him wish he could call Venus and tell her he loved her. That he missed her. That he had a secret he’d been holding on to, eating him up inside. One he had a feeling he was going to pay dearly for.
“Do you guys mind performing? We have an extra three minutes we need to fill. We’ve got the instrumental cued up, all you guys gotta do is do what you do. Cool?”
Jake waited for Sirena to agree or disagree. It wasn’t his place while in the queendom to have a say.
“Sorry, Kelly. You know I’m down for whatever but my voice is cracked. I’m not about to ruin my whole career for three minutes of live TV.”
Ramona came in again, rushed. “I made sure they used the soft light and filters. It’ll pick up the highlights in your hair perfectly.” She stood over Sirena. “You need anything else?”
Jake wanted to say, what about him? Would the soft lights and filters do anything for him? Would it hide his fatigue? He knew anyone would trade places with him right now, but all he really wanted to do was get home. Get off this ride. Keeping Sirena at arm’s distance was exhausting. He didn’t know how much longer he could maintain his cool. Something was brewing inside him that he’d kept buried for so long.
“We’re good. All right, then. We’ll get this show on the road in ten.” Kelly rushed out, already whizzing in thoughts of plan B.
“You ready?” Sirena touched his arm. “Something wrong?”
“Nah, I’m cool.”
The audience was on their feet the minute the host said her name. Clapping, cheering, and whistling. So much so, it shocked Jake that they got louder when he stepped out. A chill ran through him. He took in the faces all staring directly at him.
“Welcome, JP, Sirena …” The host, Sonny Suarez, slapped hands with Jake. “Man, good to have you back. I’m not just talking in the studio.” He shouted to the audience, “Are we feeling his hit? Yeah!” The group of mostly teenagers cheered on cue.
If Jake could bottle this moment and drink it up, he would. But he’d learned early on not to let adoration go to his head. Fan love was the worst drug of all. Highly addictive.
“Tell us what it was like being back in the studio after eleven years. Then suddenly you’re back on top. Did you wake up one day with the lyrics and the beat, or was it something floating around for months, years, and now was the time?” Sonny seemed to have forgotten Sirena was in the studio. Tunnel vision.
Jake could feel her getting uncomfortable. “The writing process is scary. One day you have nothing, one minute you’re empty, the next you can’t shut the lyric out of your head. Just flows, man. But it helped having the right muse.” He slipped an arm around Sirena to bring her into the fold.
“The two of you worked together in the past, but never in the studio. How was it for you, Sirena, putting yourself in this man’s hands?”
She smiled coyly. “Being in his hands … absolutely amazing.” She winked and the ladies in the crowd screamed.
Jake felt the grip trying to take hold and told himself the high never lasts. Don’t give in.
“But seriously, JP is one of the most dedicated, talented people I know,” Sirena continued. “He showed me early, back in the day, you can’t get anywhere without working hard. There are no shortcuts. So we stayed in the studio for, like, five days straight.” She stretched her fingers around the microphone, squeezing with both hands, putting her lips just shy of touching. “I think we got it right.”
“Number one on the charts for three straight weeks, I’d say you two got it right. Then we come to the movie—not even on the screens across the whole country yet, and it’s surpassed expectations in the box office. How stoked are y’all?”
“None of this was expected. I never thought about acting at all until Sirena popped up,” Jake added.
“Popped up?” She frowned, quickly turning it around. “There was no popping up. I’ve known this man forever. It was more so convincing him he could do it. I told him he was better than those Calvin Klein ads, showing his goodies to the world when he could’ve been a live action hero.” She pursed her lips. Blew him a kiss. Then jokingly nudged him with her elbow.
The host had to mellow the crowd with a downward push of his hand. Jake looked out to see someone holding up a poster of him in the Calvin Klein underwear ad. His chest glistening, his arms ripped. The sepia-toned photo reminded him of how good it felt working in front of the camera. Working, period. He’d been on hiatus for so long, hiding from his past. Now here he was on worldwide television, in millions of homes. He nearly smiled, but fought it off. Maybe this was what Sirena was talking about. Wondering why he wouldn’t let himself enjoy the moment, bask in the adulation.
Because it never lasts.
“Speaking of knowing him forever, as you put it, there’s also someone here who has known you both forever.”
The music began to play an old-school favorite that half the audience should’ve been too young to remember, but they were all up on their feet swaying and stomping to the beat.
“A blast to the past. Please welcome, Tommy Ridley.” Sonny Suarez did a quick Michael Ja
ckson spin.
Sirena visibly flinched. Jake kept the same even expression that he’d had all along. Somehow he still hadn’t gotten the message, even with the bass of the song blasting. Not until Tommy was up close and personal did it register. “Good to see you, man.” He even hugged his old buddy. But his heart was pounding against his chest. Hate wasn’t strong enough of a word.
The intro song should’ve been “Back Stabbers” by the O’Jays.
Sirena put out both her hands and extended her cheek for an air kiss.
Tommy had on an oversized leather jacket to hide the pounds he’d packed on. His box-cut fade was slightly too high, like in the old days. He hadn’t been seen or heard in the music industry, and no one had really cared to ask. He’d run over so many and left bodies in the ruin, that no one missed him. The money he’d made off the backs of everyone else must’ve gone a long way for him to have remained in obscurity.
“So here’s the story,” Sonny Suarez said in his rehearsed tone. “You and Tommy were roommates in college, doing your thing. One of you was supposed to be a lawyer and the other …” He turned the microphone to Tommy.
“An English teacher,” he said, dead serious.
“Not really seeing you as an English teacher.”
Tommy flashed a gold-capped smile. A few chuckles followed.
“So tell us how y’all got started on the road to stardom.”
“In the dorm, man. Spinning, mixing, and Jay, here, finally reveals he’s got a few rhymes. I put them to a hype beat. The rest, they say, is history.”
Jake hoped he didn’t expect him to put on a big silly grin and thank Tommy. More so he felt like slamming his ass to the ground.
Un-Nappily in Love Page 7