One Hustle

by Cortney Gee

  "Yeah, Antoinette, everything is cool. We're just here to collect a substantial return on our investment," Lance told her, showing all of his thirty-twos.

  His calm played ying to my man-in-black-bad-motherfucker yang. Figuring I had Richard's undivided attention, I released my grip and allowed him to sit back down. With everyone in our seats, Richard tried his best to bring things back to some semblance of normalcy.

  Still standing at the door, Antoinette stuttered, "May I offer you gentlemen something to drink?"

  Before Richard could say anything, Lance spoke, "As you can see, my friend here has had his share of coffee. How about you bring us some orange juice, sunshine?" Lance told her smoothly, which only made me seem more menacing.

  After Antoinette left to go get the refreshments, I looked over at Richard. My snatching his grimy ass up ruined any high he would have had from the blow.

  "I'm sure you guys are wondering why your accounts are empty," he said, straightening his clothes and tie.

  "Damn right, and you better have a keystroke on a computer to make it reappear or I can't say that this is going to be a good business day at Merrill Lynch." Lance lifted up his shirt, making sure Richard saw his weapon.

  Truth be told, I didn't think Lance had it in him to pull a trigger, but with this kind of cash at stake gunplay might have been behind curtain number two for our broker.

  He held up his hands like he was surrendering.

  "I swear I can clear this up. That bitch, Sarafina, played me like a tune. She told me to put all the money in her account because all of you were on the run." He turned toward his computer, spit, and then began typing at breakneck speed making sure to reverse the transaction.

  "So it seems that we are out of business, Richard." I said, reasoning Sarafina was in the wind never to return. She especially wouldn't come back to complain about us recouping loot that she'd attempted to steal from us.

  Richard nodded, stopped typing and then pulled out a huge checkbook binder from one of his desk drawers.

  When he began to write out a check, Lance asked, "Man, are you high or retarded?"

  "Richard, we aren't walking out of here with no fucking checks," I told him with an intimidating look on my face.

  “Do what you have to do about cashing us out."

  "Of course you wouldn't. Give me some time; I'll have our account specialist get it together."

  Antoinette returned with our drinks. I was surprised she didn't have the police in tow.

  "Antoinette, please have Mr. Rickleman settle up these gentlemen's accounts. Sadly, they'll be taking their business elsewhere," he told her.

  It appeared that Antoinette was no stranger to irate customers and Cameron figured clients were constantly complaining about how a broker had mishandled their funds. But Cameron also figured that never had she witnessed a scene like the one they had just played out.

  She whisked away to get Mr. Rickleman on the job of taking care of me and Lance. We sat patiently for about 45 minutes until the account specialist returned with our money. Richard couldn't have been happier to see us leave. As we departed, we both tossed Antoinette a thousand dollars as a gesture of gratitude for not calling the fuzz.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  "I wish you would reconsider staying at least until Christmas," I told my mother as we motored through traffic headed toward the airport.

  "There's nothing to reconsider, Cameron, I've been here long enough," Irene replied after cracking the window and lighting a Salem cigarette.

  I knew not to say anything about my mother and her beloved cancer sticks. I mean, I would have had some nerve to talk seeing that I derived such pleasure from cigars.

  But Karen and my mother -- they had butted heads one too many times about my mother smoking in the house. Both of them had valid points: Karen's being that she didn't want the twins subjected to secondhand smoke, and Irene thinking she was too grown to be told what to do by somebody I hadn't even married. I thought to step in and settle the argument, but realized I wasn't going to be able to satisfy either of their needs for me to be completely on their side. So I kept quiet about it. My silence, of course, pissed both of them off with me. Karen wanted her gone and Irene didn't want to stay another day. There had been a cold war going on while the twins and I watched.

  It seemed that subject was on my mother's mind, too.

  "Why didn't you speak up for me? You're the man of the house and I'm your mother," she inquired after taking a long drag on her cigarette.

  "I did, but you see how things are. Of course I'm the man, but even I'm not allowed to smoke in a house I paid for," I said trying to reason with her.

  "Never mind; it's not your fault and that's why I'm going to my own place, where I can do whatever the fuck I want to!" she exclaimed.

  "Mr. Durham said they're almost completely done working on the house. I'm hoping you enjoy it," I said trying to change the subject.

  "Yeah, Fannie told me it's to die for. You know you really didn't have to spend all that money on my house. I was happy the way it was."

  "Well, it would make me happy if you dig the way it is now. It's not like Mr. Durham is going to take back the Jacuzzi."

  She was appreciative. Irene was just giving me the business because I had been neutral concerning her confrontation with Karen. And, I knew that when I got home there was going to be hell to pay there as well.

  Other than the fight with Karen, my mother had enjoyed herself. It was fun showing her around the city. It wasn't like this was her first time in LA, but it was her first time with me as a tour guide. Being an entertainer and having some powerful connections in the business was a benefit I fully exploited while my mom was in town. Lisa virtually kidnapped her on a few occasions and had taken her to live studio tapings of the Price is Right and Thea Vidale's show on ABC. Irene thought Lisa's vision for my career was wise and I should put more trust and effort into trying to get my own sitcom on the air.

  "Are you hungry?" I asked my mom as we neared the airport.

  "No, not really; I just want to get on this plane and get home."

  "You act like you have someone waiting on you," I said with a raised eyebrow.

  "And if I did what business would that be of yours? Don't forget Mr. Cameron who the most grown grown-up is in this car."

  We pulled into LAX's short-term parking. I grabbed her luggage and we headed over to the skycap. The diminutive Asian man strained to lift the largest of the three bags.

  "You must be smuggling a body in this one," he chided.

  "No, I buried the body, that's probably the saw and ax I used to dismember it that you're feeling," she replied with a deadpan look, proving that my quick wit came from her side of the family.

  The skycap didn't know whether or not to take her seriously and I guess he figured that it was in his best interest to flash her a fake smile and hope for a generous tip. After he checked her in and marked her luggage as heavy baggage, I didn't disappoint when I slid him a twenty-dollar bill.

  "You know you can't be saying crazy things at the airport, Mom. You could see blood drain from that cat's face."

  "Ah he was all right; poor little thing couldn't even lift the luggage. I'm so blessed to have a big strong son like you," she said, trying to butter me up.

  "Yes, you are blessed to have me. So who's going to help you with these bags when you land in Cleveland?" I asked.

  "Wouldn't you like to know?"

  "Yes, I would."

  "Damn, you want to know who is carrying my luggage, using the new Jacuzzi and driving my Cadillac. Questions, questions, and more questions," she ranted as we walked through security and headed toward her departing gate.

  "Look Ma, I'm serious. Are you seeing someone?"

  She stopped dead in her tracks.

  "Okay, I'm going to tell you this once and I don't want to hear no more talk of it." She paused for only a moment. "I am seeing someone casually. We go out, we watch movies, we dance, we dine and sometimes..."<
br />
  Before she said anything else, I interjected, "Ma, okay I don't need the gory details. I think I get it."

  "I mean really, Cameron, I was faithful and loving toward your father until he left us, God rest his soul. But he left me alone in this world and I have needs just like everyone else."

  I felt kinda fucked up about how immaturely I was handling the thought of my mother dating, so I dropped the third degree.

  "Okay, I'm going to allow you to see this who-ever-it-is, but I don't need any little brothers or sisters, you hear me?" I told her, only half-jokingly.

  We got past the whom she was dating conversation. I even asked her to please accept my apology for not choosing a side in her bickering with Karen.

  "Baby, it wasn't you. Two cats can't live in the same house for too long before the claws come out."

  The desk agent started calling for passengers in the first-class cabin to board.

  "I'm so proud of you. I love you so much," she told me as we hugged goodbye.

  "I know, I love you too," I said, kissing her cheek. "Call me as soon as you get to the house; I can't wait for you to tell me how much you like the improvements."

  She promised that she would and told me to kiss her grand babies one more time for her. My mother walked into the jet way and exited from my view.

  I turned away, but I had a hunger pain that refused to continue being ignored. Since I was by the airport, I figured I'd call Anna and see if she cared to join me for a bite to eat. I was sure she wasn't happy that I'd been scarce for the last few months, but business and family had to come first.

  I dialed her number and when she answered the phone, I said, "Hey, mami, what you doing?" as if shit wasn't wrong between us.

  "Well if it isn't the man that used to love him some me. I'm about to make a run. Why, what’s up?"

  "Oh nothing, I was just in a neighborhood and I was hoping we could do lunch. But if you're busy, I understand," I said, ignoring the first part of her statement.

  "Can I get a rain check?"

  "No doubt, I'll be free most of the week. Let me know what's good for you."

  She agreed that later in the week would be cool and rushed off the phone. I had to understand her not feeling me, but even in my understanding I wasn't happy that she didn't seem excited over the possibility of us spending some time together. It wasn't like I had popped out of the blue asking for some ass, even though I wanted to. Karen had drawn a picket line in our bedroom since her and my mom had been arguing, so I was definitely in the need; but I hadn't come at Anna with my thirst. I just wanted to be in her company over a meal. Of course I would have liked some ass after the meal, but that was a whole 'nother something.

  With Anna shutting me down, I called Lisa to see what she had brewing.

  "Hey you, what's up?" I asked her.

  "Oh, nothing much, just making some phone calls to get you some work and me some commission."

  "Really? Would you care to tell me about it over lunch?"

  "Cameron, I'm way too busy to leave the office, and plus I brought my lunch today."

  Damn, within a matter of minutes I had been shut down by two women.

  "Well, call me when things calm down and tell me what you come up with. I could stand some road work right about now."

  "Okay, and why are you so hell bent on hitting the road? Is there trouble in paradise?"

  "You've met Karen and my mother. There was no way you missed the oil and water mixture I had going on in my home."

  She laughed. "You have a point there. Right now I don't have any road gigs lined up, but I have a lead on a warm up gig if you're interested."

  "You mean being in front of a studio audience and keeping them entertained between takes?"

  "Cameron, before you shoot it down, know that it pays fifteen hundred dollars a day. That's great stay-in-town cash. Plus, you get a bird's eye view of how sitcoms work. That way when we get yours on the air, you will have a better feel for the environment.

  I couldn't deny that after Sarafina tried to fuck us and I had to kiss the Power Ranger steady funds goodbye, I was looking to have a different kind of steady money coming in. It wasn't like I was broke, hell I was far from that. But if you don't have income, everything is all outcome.

  "Okay, cool. I'll also call some promoters I've worked for in the past and see if they have anything poppin'."

  "Cameron, for the life of me I don't know why you don't let me handle all of that and you just concentrate on your craft."

  "You know I'm a busy body and don't worry, I'll still pay you your percentage."

  "That's not what I'm worried about. You've been great, but managers manage and talent shouldn't be hampered with the task of finding their own work."

  I agreed to do a better job of handing over the full reins of my business. We ended the call and I found myself still hungry and still eating alone. Fuck!

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  "Cameron, I have some good news and some bad news. Which do you want first?" asked Lisa over the phone line.

  I always wondered why people found it necessary to inquire which news you wanted first instead of just dropping the bomb, then giving you some hope in its aftermath.

  "Give me the bad news first," I said, bracing myself for whatever she was about to lay on me.

  "Well, I talked to the producers of BET ComicView and they aren't going to let you perform this season."

  "Why? What did I do? I mean I haven't fucked anyone over at the network. This is so fucked up. You know I use Comicview as a commercial for my fans and promoters to see that I have fresh material," I stated, pacing back and forth.

  Lisa sensed I was about to go off the deep end so she interrupted my tirade.

  "Cameron, don't you have any interest in the good news I have to share with you?"

  I was really tripping. I needed to do a breathing exercise to keep from passing out before I could refocus on the conversation.

  "Yes, please, do tell me the light at the end of the tunnel isn't a train."

  "The reason why you aren't going to be on the show this season is because they've hired you as a staff writer for The BlackBerry Inn."

  I didn't know how to process the information she had provided. I mean sure, it was great that I had landed my first writing gig in Hollywood. But on the other hand, I knew on-staff writing was a job and I was allergic to employment. One of my inhibitions about working was that folks expected you to be somewhere every day at the same time. My being an artist and one who was sitting on a considerable lump of cash wouldn't lend me to being barked at.

  "Well, that is some good news, good news indeed. I'll get the opportunity to sharpen my writing skills. So just how much is this good news going to be paying?" I asked, eager to hear how much my bondage was worth.

  "Well, Curtis Gadson offered us two thousand dollars a week, but I mentioned to him that you were going to gripe about not appearing on the show and he counter-offered twenty-five hundred dollars a week and your very own thirty-minute comedy special on the network."

  "And you wonder why I let you handle the negotiations," I chided. "My dumb ass would have settled for the two g's a week."

  "No, to be honest, Cameron, I think we both know why you chose to work with me."

  "And what might that be?"

  "Well one, because I'm a hungry go-getter who knows how to maneuver in a tank filled with sharks and two, I'm a white girl who's not intimidated by black business."

  I admitted that she was correct. If I was going to succeed in the business I needed someone who didn't see things out of the same set of eyes as mine.

  Lisa fit the bill perfectly, plus she was cool as fuck to boot.

  "Sounds to me like you have Hollywood's newest staff writer in your stable. Congrats, Ms. Noonan."

  "Congrats to you, Cameron. It was your unique sense of humor that got you hired. I just brokered the deal. You have a meeting with Curtis Gadson at BET after the Tyson fight, don’t forget it."

  I
got off the phone with Lisa, then I called out in the house to Karen and informed her and the boys of my new opportunity. We all got dressed up and went to Spago's in Hollywood to celebrate. After a long wait to be seated, we enjoyed an incredible meal. Karen had the California Wild King Salmon. I dined on the Grilled Dry-Aged New York Steak and for the boys we kept it simple, they had grilled prime beef burgers with aged cheddar and smoked bacon. After we finished dining and were headed home, I received a call from Lance the Great.

  "What up, Lance, what it do?"

  "Shit is cool, but it's complicated. Can you meet me in an hour?"

  I told him that I had to drop Karen and the boys off first but I could make myself available.

  "Well drop them off and meet me at the crib."

  I told him that I would be there, but from the looks of things the 101 heading east was jammed, so he needed to give me some leeway.

  Karen wasn't feeling the out-of-nowhere need for me to meet Lance and thought I was up to some sneaky shit.

  "So are you going to be long or are you coming right back?" she asked suspiciously.

  "I don't know, Lance didn't say what he wanted, but whatever it is, he didn't want to discuss it over the line. You know how paranoid his ass can be."

  She wasn't happy that I was calling a premature ending to our celebration. From her attitude all evening, I deducted that the picket line in our bedroom had fallen down and the pussy had been set free. The thought of me having to wait to be dipping into her dark depths frustrated me. That nigga Lance had no idea how good a friend I was to be leaving those promises to see what he needed.

  After I dropped my family off and promised Karen that I'd be back as soon as I could, I dashed over to Lance's upscale condo. He buzzed me in and I parked in the visitor’s section of the lot. They didn't play at his complex. If you fucked around and parked in an owner's spot, they would tow your shit with no remorse.

  I took the elevator up to the ninth floor, exited, and walked down the hallway to Lance's door, 9G. I noticed it was slightly open, which was peculiar seeing that Lance was paranoid to a point leaning toward lunacy.