One Hustle

by Cortney Gee

  I paused before answering, causing her to reconsider her wording.

  "Maybe I should rephrase that, Mr. Comedian. What type of food would you like to dine on for lunch?"

  "What? I didn't say anything," I replied, even though we both knew that she'd caught me in my dirty thought.

  "You may have not uttered a word, but I can already tell there's a bad boy behind the smooth exterior, sir."

  Jessica had pegged me perfectly. I had been thinking of her in a lustful manner since my first glimpse. Even while Tasha and I were engaged in our carnal celebration, I couldn't get Jessica out of my mind.

  I told her that since it was her city and she had me invited me out to lunch, I was open to whatever she fancied me to share with her.

  "My call, huh? Okay, I like that. Just remember that when I come to visit LA," she said, making it known that she planned on seeing me again.

  "So it's 10 am now, what time would you like to meet?"

  "Lunch is from noon to three universally. How about we link up in an hour, that way we won't be rushed for time."

  "I'm not driving. I would appreciate you picking me up at the downtown Marriott, if you don't mind."

  "Oh, I don't mind, but please be downstairs so that I don't have to come up and get you. We wouldn't want to miss lunch, now would we?"

  I ignored her innuendo. "Okay cool, so what's the attire?"

  Jessica told me there was a brisk breeze coming off the bay and she was dressing in jeans and a blazer. I told her that I would follow her casual lead and meet her downstairs at eleven.

  Since I had already taken care of my hygienic needs before I called Jessica, all I had to do was throw on some 501 Levis, a black V-neck sweater, and my Baco Bucci loafers.

  Before leaving to go downstairs, I knocked on Marc's door. I wanted to check in with him to see if he was cool.

  "What's up, are you by yourself?" I asked him as I walked inside his room.

  "Yeah, Ebony been gone. Where the fuck you off to all dressed up and smiling?"

  "Yo, did you see that cutie across the bar last night with the curly red hair?"

  "You mean the tall journ with the tight black dress on?"

  "Exactly!"

  "Nah, I didn't see her."

  "Man, you trippin’. You know damn well you peeked. A blind motherfucker couldn't have missed her fine ass."

  "True dat. Shorty was off the chain; I don't remember seeing you approach her. How did you pull that off with the Thelma chick around?"

  "Well, first off, Thelma is going through a divorce and we are just friends."

  "But I assumed you brought her back to the hotel with all of the squealing I heard coming from your room."

  "Oh, that was ol' faithful. But peep this, I sent the redbone a drink before I hit the stage, then after we got paid, the bartender slid me a note from her." I sat down in the computer chair.

  Marc leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. I could read the skepticism all over his face.

  "So are you gonna tell her the truth about your family or are you gonna be jive slick and omit that from your lunch conversation?"

  I didn't know why he would question my style. I thought he knew how much I prided myself in keeping it one hundred with women from the jump. I only reserved lies of omission for Karen, but even she, at one time, had to endure being the other woman.

  "So do you think Karen believes you're being faithful when you're out on the road? Better yet, do you think she's being faithful to you?"

  I explained to him that Karen knew I was faithful -- to my urges and desires. I didn't try to convince him that she approved of my ways, but I did point out that she wasn't complaining about the new truck or house with the swimming pool that I provided for her and our sons.

  As far as the question of her fidelity, I told him the plain truth. I was too busy enjoying myself to even be concerned.

  "Damn, Cameron, I didn't know your pimp hand was so strong man!"

  "Marc, we're in our thirties and one day, not too far from now, all we'll have are the memories of our youth. And I'll be damned if I'm gonna be in my rocking chair with Karen as the only piece of pussy I can recall, ya dig?"

  Marc just shook his head. I guess what I said left him speechless. With no real retort, he changed the subject.

  "So, you aren't curious about Ebony's performance last night?"

  "No, not in the least bit." I paused and laughed. "I'm just fucking with you, do tell."

  "Well, let's just say she is comfortable with me now and she has swallowed her fears," he replied.

  I told him that I would have to get the gory details later. I needed to head downstairs since I didn't want to have Jessica waiting.

  Marc threw on his shoes and came along. "I want to see how fine she looks in the daytime."

  "That's cool, but don't be all ogling and shit; she'll know what's up. Just hang back like we're discussing some business.

  Dealing with Lance and his promptness had taught me to be early and ready when folks came to pick me up. That thought made me pause and think a little longer about my accomplice. I wondered what he might be up to and where he had gone.

  Marc and I were outside acting as if we were in deep conversation when in actuality he was just bragging about Ebony's profound oral proficiency.

  Jessica pulled up in a blue Mercedes S500 sitting on chrome dubs. She put the car in park, exited, and walked over to where we were standing.

  "Hey, Cameron, I'm sorry if I'm late," she told me, looking at her watch.

  I told her that she was on time and that Marc and I were just talking about the show last night. Then, I introduced them, "Jessica, this is Marc; Marc this is Jessica."

  Jessica told him how pleased she was to meet him and how she had enjoyed his performance.

  "The pleasure is all mine," Marc smoothly replied. It was as if Ebony's head game had awakened within him a newfound swagger. If Ebony hadn't already had him riding high, being complimented by my Amazonian companion sure did the trick.

  "Cameron, I like her already, it's obvious that this lady has an eye for talent. Now why she is bothering herself with you is beyond me, but you two have a great time." He said goodbye, then walked away without giving me an opportunity to respond.

  Jessica and I walked over to her luxurious ride and I opened the door for her. When I entered her passenger side, she leaned over and asked, "So did I pass the test?"

  I pretended that I had no clue what she was talking about. "What test are you referring to?"

  "The is-she-cute-when-the-lights-come-on-and-the-drinks-wear-off test."

  My eyes opened wide as if her words shocked me. "There is really a test like that? That must be a West Coast thing."

  She chuckled. "Okay, Mr. Bernard, if you wanna start off this relationship not being real, it's doomed to end that way."

  That was the second time that she'd mentioned us having a future. I didn't say anything about it, but I did make a mental note.

  "So where are we off to?" I asked, once she started the car and took off.

  "Well, I was thinking we could go to San Francisco or make our way to Napa Valley. Which would you prefer?"

  "As long as I'm in your company I don't care if we eat at Alcatraz," I said, trying to be clever. But the reality was that I didn't want to see no parts of anyone's prison. It was always perplexing to me when folks talked about going on guided tours there. What motherfucker in his right mind would pay to be at The Rock?

  Jessica was amused with my statement and as we rode in the car, I checked her out. I saw why she was tabbed The Body or Jessica Rabbit; she was comic book cartoon voluptuous.

  Thick up top, wide in her hips, but she had a slim waistline that defied belief. Not only was she a physical marvel, but she owned a pretty face with light brown eyes, which had a greenish tint. And then, there was her mouth -- pouty. Talk about being sexy, ooh lawd.

  Fuck yeah, she passed the test.

  From now on the test was going to be
graded on her curves.

  "Seeing that the vineyards are at least fifty-two miles from here and you have a performance tonight, let's just point this car in the direction of Golden Gate Bridge and see where we find ourselves," she said as we pulled onto Broadway headed to interstate 880.

  Jessica turned up the volume of the CD player loud enough to fully enjoy the SADE track, “Taboo.”

  "That's the jam. I love this song." She snapped her fingers and accompanied the sultry artist.

  I listened to her sing for a moment, and was surprised that she could hold her own. "Yeah she is a marvelous songstress and from the sounds of things, so are you."

  She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. "Why thank you, Mr. Bernard."

  "Please call me, Cameron, Mr. Bernard was my daddy's name."

  She laughed. "Fine, Cameron it is, but I'll reserve the right to call you daddy if I so desire."

  Damn!

  She continued, "So tell me something about yourself."

  I went right into what I told all the ladies. "I'm sure you gathered from my act that I have twin sons and I'm currently in relationship with their mom. I'm originally from Cleveland, Ohio. I'm a thirty-year-old ex college basketball player who stumbled upon my comedy career. I'm an only child," I paused for just a second, "and I'm very attracted to you even though that might be considered improper after all that I've told you."

  She didn't hesitate. "Well, Cameron, I believe I would be more upset if you didn't find me to be very attractive. That would be improper, especially since I go to the gym at least four times a week to maintain this figure."

  "So did I pass the test?"

  "What test would that be, sweetie?"

  "The is-he-going-to-lie-to-kick-it test. I believe that's universal," I responded.

  "Yes, with flying colors. I told my girl who was with me last night that you'd be honest. She, on the other hand, begged to differ."

  I nodded. I understood her friend. "I make it a point to be real from the jump in most of my personal and business dealings. When you lie you have to keep remembering the false shit you've said. I have too many important things to remember to be thinking about some stuff I've made up."

  She agreed with her silence.

  "So tell me some things about you."

  "What would you like to know?"

  "Now you know it's rude to answer a question with a question," I teased.

  "Well everybody in this car doesn't do interviews all the time. I guess what I meant to say was, my story is fairly simple."

  "Please feel free to bore me."

  "Well I'm an only child, too, raised by a hard-working single mother. I grew up in Vallejo, but I've been living in Oakland since I graduated from San Jose State seven years ago with a Business degree in Finance and Money Management. Oh yeah, and I like to swim naked and take long walks on the beach watching the sunset."

  I commented on the two things that stood out most. "Really, naked swimming and beach walks?"

  "No, I'm playing, I don't walk the beach. I just read that in Playboy and guys eat that shit up." She laughed a little. "I'm sorry, Cameron, I couldn't help but throw it out there to see how you would react."

  "That's hilarious and too bad it's too cold to swim. That would have been interesting," I replied almost ashamed to admit that I was a devout Playboy reader, and found the articles to be truly some of the best in publication. It was just an added bonus that they were packed between pages of pussy.

  I had to admit to myself that I was not just feeling her as a physical specimen but also as a genuinely cool chick.

  "So just out of curiosity, Jessica, what made you leave the note last night?"

  "Like I said earlier, I respected you at work and your fans had obviously paid good money to be up close and personal with you. I didn't think it was right of me to get in the way of that. But I was intrigued. You were handsome, funny and charming so I took a shot."

  I told Jessica how appreciative I was for her leap of faith. We continued to probe each other through our conversation. I was surprised to find out that last night wasn't her first time seeing me perform. She informed me that she had caught me when I opened up for Don DC Curry and DL Hughley at the Paramount Theatre. I asked Jessica why she hadn't said anything to me then.

  "I had difficulty getting backstage and when I saw you at the after party, you were preoccupied with some mixed chick."

  The more she talked, the more I could tell that she had a genuine interest in me that had been brewing for quite some time.

  We crossed over the bridge after paying the toll and Jessica suggested that we head over to Chinatown for some authentic Chinese cuisine rather than the American version. Considering the company and how Chinese just so happened to be my favorite, I didn't complain.

  We parked the car in front of the Hong Kong Clay Pot and I went over to the driver’s side to open her door. Jessica truly was every bit deserving of her nickname. The way her jeans were fitting her, even gay men that we passed on the street took a second look at her ass.

  I was taken aback when I saw dead carcasses hanging in the window of the restaurant. I didn't know who told the proprietor that this was a way to draw motherfuckers in to dine, but it wasn't working for me. It reminded me of summers spent at my Uncle Louis and Aunt Sus' farm in Alabama.

  My uncle used to forbid me from becoming attached to and naming the livestock. Secretly, I named my favorite rooster, Red. One day Red went missing and I looked for him all day, only ending my search because hunger had overcome me and the scent of fried chicken enticed me to go back in the house to eat. It wasn't until after I had already smashed the food that my aunt told me that I had eaten Red. I was stricken by the realization but Red tasted too good for me to mourn over his demise.

  But, I was thinking about Red right before we stepped inside and Jessica must have sensed my apprehension.

  "Don't worry, they won't bite."

  I gave her a half-hearted smile, opened the door, and we walked inside.

  "You are quite the gentleman, Cameron. Either you were raised by southern parents or you're fattening me up for the kill."

  "My father was from Cleveland and my mother is from Tuscaloosa. I guess politeness is one half of my DNA."

  "You said your father was from Cleveland, that's past tense. Is he no longer with us?"

  "Unfortunately no, he passed a few years back from lung cancer."

  Jessica expressed her condolences for my loss and wished peace for my dad's eternal soul.

  I thanked her as our hostess escorted us to the table.

  Our waiter brought us ice water and hot tea, then left us with menus so that we could decide on our meals. I already had an idea of what I wanted to eat, so while Jessica perused over the offerings, I continued to fulfill my need to know more about her.

  "You mentioned earlier that you saw me out with a mixed woman. When you said that it was as if you aren't of synergized heritage. Is that the case?"

  "Well, my mother is Irish and my father is as black as coal. They met at UC Berkley during the 60's. Obviously, she was a liberal and he was a revolutionary. Let's just say that my father taught my mother what true Black Power was all about."

  It all made sense to me. Her green eyes, red hair, and the freckles I was so smitten over.

  Jessica had comically explained it all.

  When the waiter returned, Jessica ordered lamb in a clay pot and I asked him to bring me ginger lobster. We both ordered wonton soup and spring rolls.

  By the time that the waiter returned to our table with our meals, we were both more than ready to dive in. We were hungry, so looks were the only things we exchanged until we finished dining.

  I sparked up more conversation after washing down my food with a diet coke. "Do you have a nickname that your family calls you?"

  "Yes but unfortunately, I'm not very fond of it. I believe I have far outgrown it."

  "Let me be the judge. I promise not to laugh. How can I? My mother's n
ickname for me is Reesie. Do you know how many kid’s asses I had to kick growing up?"

  She laughed. "Reesie is cute, Cameron, hell I might even call you that. At least you didn't grow up being called Carrot."

  I almost broke out into laughter, but being the man of my word I suppressed the urge by biting down on my lip.

  "My man, Mouton calls you The Body and Jessica Rabbit. Were you hipped to that?"

  She nodded. "Yes, Brian refuses to stop even though he knows there’s much more to me than my body."

  "I feel you, but I would be lying if I didn't say the name is befitting. You are justifiably fine as fuck," I told her bluntly for a lack of a better way to put it.

  "Well, I guess I'll just have to take that as a compliment, won't I, Reesie?" she replied as our waiter returned with our bill and placed it in front of me.

  I instinctively reached into my pocket to whip out some cash. But before I could do anything, Jessica reached over the table, grabbed the bill, surveyed it and pulled out a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill from her purse, then handed it to the waiter.

  "I could've taken care of that, sweetie," I told her.

  "I'm the one who invited you out for lunch. It's on me."

  "Thank you. But at least allow me to leave the tip."

  "Okay, if it will make you feel better about it, but know it's not necessary."

  I left a ten on the table and we bounced. I was full as a tick and happy that we had parked close to the restaurant. As we were headed toward the car, out of nowhere a fully nude man walked up the street, then suddenly stopped, kneeled and prayed. Jessica acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. What was even more peculiar was that all of the pedestrians paid as little attention to him as Jessica had.

  I, on the other hand, couldn't believe my eyes. There before me was actually a booty-ass naked man on a public street and not one motherfucker had shit to say about it. Talk about freedom of religion and expression. I was sure the founding fathers didn't intend for this to be protected by the Constitution.

  Once again, Jessica read my expression. "This is San Francisco, baby; believe me, you are bound to see just about anything. They truly live by a different set of rules here."

  "This could have had never happened in Cleveland, dude is wildin'."