One Hustle

by Cortney Gee

  "Our partnership wouldn't be fun if I was any other way, now would it be?"

  As much as Lisa hated to admit it, I was right and she knew it. But my taking her out to lunch was just one part of my attempt at apologizing. I had arranged for her office to be fully remodeled by the good folks at OfficeMax, courtesy of Kwan's prowess. I figured it would be a proper thing to do some good with the bad cash. Not that I was superstitious, but it couldn't hurt my juju and Lisa's office could stand modernizing.

  I pointed my blue automotive elegance westward on Wilshire Blvd. and raised the RPMs when I gunned the V12 engine. Lisa and I sped down the city street at a comfortable pitch while the Bose speakers pumped the sounds of R. Kelly's “Bump and Grind.”

  “Who is this guy? He leaves no room for imagination, does he?"

  It amused and saddened me at the same time how you could be a superstar in the black community but totally unrecognized in mainstream society. That was why I hadn't fully turned over my bookings to Lisa. I knew that when she contacted booking agents outside my black scope, she was selling an unrecognized or ignored entity. I had honed a following and fandom among my own that didn't need her expertise.

  "Damn, you never heard of R. Kelly? The 12 Play CD is responsible for the spike in African American pregnancies and abortions. This ain't your father's R&B where the Temptations sing about “My Girl.” R sings about that raw shit."

  "My father didn't listen to Rhythm and Blues, but I get your point. It's definitely raw, but it's infectious and it's catchy. I need to pick up a copy of this," she replied, bobbing her head to the beat.

  "You damn right it's catching, you might get a yeast infection just listening to it. You're more than welcome to this one, I'm sure I've gotten more than my money's worth out of it. Plus, Karen and I have already made our contribution to the black community." I ejected the CD out of the stereo and handed it to her.

  She handled the CD with caution like my remark about it being communicable was true.

  While at the stop light at Wilshire and San Vicente, I took the opportunity to pop in Stevie Wonder's “Innervisions” and the classic recordings played until we arrived at our destination.

  When we pulled up, I realized this was the first time I had ever been to the establishment sober or in the daytime. Jerry's was the after hour’s diner for the club crowd; it was The Club Part II. It was the place that if you hadn't scored with a honey, this was overtime and extra innings.

  It also was the place to grab a bite and catch a glimpse of many of Hollywood’s stars in the wee early hours of the morning. My comedy crew and I had peeled out of there right before the sun rose many mornings.

  The deli had a different feel, though in the daytime. Bobby Brown and Tyson Beckford weren't holding court at any of the large round tables. While they slept and recharged, business professionals on lunch break took their places in the establishment.

  While we waited to be seated, Lisa and I took in the fresh deli fragrance. All of the offerings were behind a glass case. Though we had made up our minds about what we were going to eat, it was tempting to see the luscious desserts on display.

  "With shit like this I don't know how women keep in such good shape in LA."

  "Vomiting and exercise. Sometimes they skip the gym altogether," Lisa quipped.

  I was glad that I wasn't a woman in the Hollywood rat race after hearing her frank remark.

  After what seemed like forever but really was only about a seven-minute wait, our less than glamorous hostess came and took us to a booth. The drab brunette handed us our menus and went away to get us some water after telling us to take a few minutes to look over Jerry's massive menu. I purposely stalled, making my order even though I knew exactly what I had a taste for. But I was conscious of the workers needing time to pull off my surprise at Lisa's office.

  "I think those young ladies are trying to get your attention," Lisa said, referring to the group of twenty-something year olds seated across from us.

  I saw their looks of recognition when we walked in. Of course Lisa didn't realize that I was getting my Hollywood front on and acting like I wasn't me.

  I had learned that trick hanging out with the comedy big boys like Jamie Foxx and Eddie Griffin. Even though everyone in the place knew it was them, they could find a way to make people second guess the truth their eyes were telling them, which only made folks curious enough to introduce themselves.

  When I saw the three young ladies getting out of their seats and heading over to our booth, I knew my ploy was successful.

  "Oh my, GOD. Aren't you Cameron B from Def Comedy Jam?" asked the brown-skinned cutie who could have easily doubled for Lark Voorhees.

  I looked up from the menu and smiled and acknowledged that she was correct.

  "I told you that was him, I told you," she said to the light-skinned member of the trio.

  She wasn't any celebrity's twin but owned a body that was very athletic and a brilliant smile that made her plain face light up.

  "I didn't say it wasn't you," she said to me. "I just said I didn't believe you were as tall as you are."

  "Yeah on ComicView and Def Jam; it's just me and I'm not next to anyone to gauge how tall or short I am."

  "That ain't it," the first one said. "Cynthia just has a little ass TV; shit, she would think the Jolly Green Giant was aa midget on that itty bitty screen," quipped the darkest of the three, causing all of the ladies, including Lisa to break out into loud laughter.

  They introduced themselves: Monica, Cynthia and Sabrina.

  "We are sorry for disturbing you and your lady's meal, but would you mind if we took a picture?" Monica asked, whipping out her camera like she wasn't going to take no for my answer.

  "Oh, I'm not his lady," Lisa said. "I'm his manager and I'm sure Cameron would love to be photographed with you wonderful ladies," Lisa added as she passed along her business card.

  Lisa was right. I didn't hesitate to rise up and oblige them. After taking a few photos I asked what had brought them to the City of Lost Angels. They told me that they were a singing group and were in town looking for employment and a place to stay.

  "A singing group ... so can y'all sing?" I asked.

  Instead of answering, the three belted out EnVogue's “Never Gonna Get It” in such perfect harmony that if EnVogue had been there, they would have gone back in the studio and worked on their vocals.

  "Well, damn, I don't have to asked that dumb shit again. That was fantastic," I said, blown away by their talents.

  "I know a few folks who might be able to help you get your foot in the door. That is, if you don't already have things set up." I wrote down my contact info on a napkin.

  The trio shrilled in excitement and took my number, promising to call. The young ladies excused themselves, elated that they had met someone from television and a possible aide in the business.

  Once we were alone, Lisa said, "Cameron, what on earth was that all about? You just had three attractive ladies audition for a record deal you don't have in place."

  "It wasn't about what I had. They know I know someone who does and they were flexing their vocal cords to show they were worth a hook up."

  Our drab waitress finally returned to take our order.

  "So have you two decided?"

  "Yes, we will have three sky high corn beef sandwiches and two lemonades. Please put one in a box for me to carry out, thank you," I told her, without looking up. It made no sense to waste my charm on her miserable ass.

  "Our lemonade isn't very good; you could save that money by just asking for more water and I brought you out some lemon wedges."

  I was irritated by her insinuation that I couldn't afford to pay for some punk ass lemonade. "Thank you, but I don't feel like laboring over my beverage and money is not an issue." I decided right then and there her tip would reflect my agitation.

  Making sure that I wasted more than enough time for the office to be finished, I explained to Lisa that I needed to drop off Karen's lunc
h, if she didn't mind.

  I wasn't surprised that Lisa agreed to me doing right by my girl; she dug Karen and thought it was admirable that I displayed concern.

  Laura, our nondescript server, must have sensed my unhappiness with her. She returned with our food and drinks in a speedy fashion and much to my surprise, a smile that bitch must have had stored in the kitchen.

  "I hope you two enjoy your meal and if you need anything just let me know," she insisted before walking away to handle her other customers.

  "Well, that was a complete change of attitude. What do you make of that, Cameron?"

  "I don't know, maybe Patti LaBelle works in the kitchen or she knew her tip was going to be 'smile bitch'."

  Lisa laughed hard. She always laughed at my wisecracks and her laughter was genuine. I guessed that was why we were at a lunch and I was stalling. I wanted to do something nice as a token of appreciation for her believing in me.

  "Hey, I know my shit is kinda raggedy with you, but I feel this tour is going to be big fun and we'll both make some scratch off the deal," I said to her between bites of my sandwich and a sip of the lemonade that was as bland as Laura had warned.

  "Cameron, really you and I are okay. I was just trying to do my job but the problem is you won't let me." She paused, then added, "And what is scratch?"

  "Scratch is money." I laughed. "Lisa, you are such a white girl and that's what I love about you. We are the perfect Ying and Yang. In the mainstream world, you move in a way I can only dream of. On the other hand, on the urban landscape of entertainment, I walk like a giant. Did you see how those girls reacted to me?"

  "I did, but you're an attractive man. I'm sure that you get approached by women all the time."

  "I appreciate the compliment, but that was all about me being a somebody enough to them that I could help them achieve their dream. If that were three white girls from Iowa, they wouldn't have thought enough of me to say a word and that all has to do with recognition. That's really where I need your expertise. I need to be showcased on some mainstream television and you, my great white hope of a manager, can get me there."

  By the time we finished our gigantic mountains of meat and bread, Lisa and I had agreed upon a working relationship where she loosened on her demands of complete control and I made a better effort of getting out of our way.

  Laura returned to our table several times, making sure we were satisfied with our meal. I couldn't help but to keep prying about her changing attitude.

  When I asked her, she told me, "I've been here since last night. Everyone has been calling in and taking off and I'm tired as shit. Again, I apologize for acting like a zombie earlier.”

  I actually felt bad for judging her without knowing her story. Before we left, I made sure to gift her with one of the Bay Area's finest hundred dollar bills.

  The girl group was piling into a Honda CRX, a car that could have doubled as a circus automobile, when Lisa and I made it to the parking lot. Monica made sure I knew how appreciative they were to have met me and told me she would be in contact.

  The temperature had risen enough to pop the roof off my cat. Lisa and I made our way to the VA hospital with the brains blown and the sounds of Method Man and Mary J Blige “You Are All I Need.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  It wasn't a normal occurrence that I showed up at Karen's job unannounced, so I wasn't tripping when she was surprised to see me bearing the gift of grub. What did take me aback was the chumminess between her and a male co-worker when I exited the elevator to deliver her lunch. They weren't touching but the proximity between them was enough to catch me off guard.

  "Hey, baby," she said, gathering herself. "I didn't know you were coming by; what's up?"

  "I tried to call but whoever answered the phone said you were tied up." I eyed the six-foot sandy-brown brother standing near her. "I just left Jerry's with Lisa. She's downstairs in the car, but I brought you a corned beef sandwich."

  "Oh, thank you. Baby, I was just telling Dr. Allen how hungry I was. Cameron, this is Dr. Simon Allen."

  I was cordial in extending my hand. If there was something going on in dude's mind about what was mine, I was sure my firm handshake let him know that he would be best served to proceed with caution. The fact I had fucked around and presently had a side piece in Oakland didn't change the fact that I was marking my territory with him.

  "Pleased to meet you, Dr. Allen. I'll let you two get back to what you were doing. Karen, I'll see you when you get off, boo." I kissed her and headed to the elevator.

  I wasn't about to clown at Karen's gig. Truthfully, I didn't even know if there was a need to be tripping.

  When I got back into the car, Lisa asked, "Did you tell Karen I said hello?"

  "Most definitely and she told me to tell you hey. You know hey is hello in Georgian."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Lisa was still gushing over her remodeled digs. She had called me at least five times in the past couple of days expressing her gratitude. It made me feel good to bring her joy. I was happy to be in good graces with anyone right about now.

  Karen and I had mixed words at a high enough volume for the neighbors in the cul de sac to be informed of my unhappiness with her concerning Dr. Allen. She argued that it made no sense for me to be acting so jealous about nothing.

  Truthfully, I wasn't even tripping; I was just arguing to make space so I would have an excuse to be out and about without trouble. I knew it was a sophomoric ploy, but it was the best I could come up with in order for Jessica and I to enjoy undisturbed time together while she was in LA.

  I had three hundred large in my trunk as I rolled southbound on the 405 Freeway.

  My mind was bubbling with ideas about moving the millions of funny money Jessica was hauling from up north. Knowing she was close to being in my company had my loins on fire as well. Though Kwan and I had agreed to do business together, it had taken two weeks for the deal to come to fruition. The time apart from Jessica had born a longing in me that I could no longer ignore. The crimson coiffed, freckled-faced vixen’s entry into my world had developed a chasm with Karen that I didn't know if I even wanted to build a bridge over.

  With Karen and the twins, I had a solid home life, especially since we had enough money not to worry about the bills anymore. But what Karen couldn't offer me was the excitement and thrill that being involved with Jessica did. I couldn't blame Karen for being the southern born plain beauty she was nor could I ignore my desire for exotic adventure.

  There was no way for me to explain to anyone how I wished I could split myself in two. Marc wouldn't understand, Lisa would be shocked, and my mother, even if she weren’t very fond of Karen, would insist I wasn't raised to leave my family behind. This was definitely a time when having Lance around was needed.

  Shit, with Lance still in the mix, I would be doubling down on my investment. He would have moved that shit with a quickness and just one look at Jessica would have justified any decision I would have made, contrary to popular belief.

  Jessica surprised me by already being outside waiting when I pulled up to the arrival area at LAX. The statuesque beauty was stunning in sunglasses, an Oakland A's jersey, some form-fitting Levi jeans, three-inch green pumps and her red mane tucked underneath an A's baseball cap.

  "Carrot, I thought you got in at three," I said, looking at my watch making sure I was not late.

  "I was, but our captain was on some super-duper I'll-get-you-all-there-ahead-of-schedule stuff. It's nothing, I've only been out here for a few minutes."

  I walked around my car to help Jessica with her two bags. Before I could grab them, she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a kiss that would have made soap opera stars blush. It caught me off guard, not because we hadn't shared more intimate moments, but because we were expressing our affection for each other in public in my own backyard.

  After the kiss and the clearing of my head, I looked around to see if our public display of affection went noticed by an
yone. In my own city and on my home court, there were a different set of rules.

  Jessica sensed my discomfort and pulled back.

  "Reesie, I'm so sorry. I couldn't help myself, I've just missed you so much."

  I wasn't going to flip on her for the warm greeting. I had been desiring those juicy lips of hers on mine as well.

  "It's all good, beautiful. You just never know who is watching, who's in this town, ya dig? Are these the only bags you brought?"

  "Yeah, I'm traveling light on clothes and heavy on paper."

  I had enough room in my trunk for the heavier of the two bags, which was the business, so I placed it next to the duffel bag I intended to give to her and placed her smaller bag in my back seat.

  "You ain't lying about traveling light as far as clothes are concerned. You must have every intention on being naked for the next two days."

  "That's my plan exactly, Daddy and guess who I intend to be naked with?"

  I was glad that I had caused that riff with Karen. If I hadn't, the adventure that Jessica presented would have been too difficult to be enjoyed.

  We drove off and I took Jessica to the Airport Sheraton and checked her into a luxurious suite. I thought we would go grab something to eat in Long Beach, far out of the investigative eye of anyone Karen might know. Instead, Jessica kept good on her word. She disrobed and had her way with me all over the room.

  Our ravaging of each other left DNA on the sink, the couch, the floor and against the wall. The only piece of furniture we hadn't tainted was the king sized bed.

  "Reesie, you must have thought I was playing. My pussy has been throbbing since I started packing my bags," she told me as we cuddled in each other’s arms, spent on the floor.

  "Not at all; I just thought you would be hungry for more than a nut after being served Southwest Airlines idea of inflight cuisine. But of course I'm never going to argue with you about making love."

  I called downstairs and ordered some lasagna for the both of us from the highly praised in-house Paparazzi Ristorante. While we awaited the delivery of our meals, we made the exchange of the monies. Kwan had delivered the cool million we had agreed upon and Jessica was satisfied with the real cash I had tucked away in the leather Cleveland Browns’ bag I brought along with me.