by Cortney Gee
"Reesie, you must be crazy if you think I'm taking this bag to The Town. You must be trying to get me robbed and murdered by Raider fans."
I knew she was right, plus the prospect of explaining her carry-on to Karen was in no way appealing to me. We agreed that that I would go to the gift shop and float Kwan's currency to obtain luggage that would be safe for her.
I made a call to Marc and Speedy and told them that we needed to link up at The Comedy Act Theater. I wanted to gauge if they had an interest in aiding me move some of the paper.
Two soldiers weren't going to be enough, so I planned to enlist Anna and the three singers from San Diego as well. I wasn’t absolutely sure if the trio would be interested, but I’d bet real money that they would be.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
After an amazing show in Leimert Park, Jessica and I joined Marc and Speedy at Larry Parker's, another one of our late-night haunts in Beverly Hills. The all-night diner was a small restaurant where club goers got their grub on and parking lot, and pimping was in full effect until the sun rose. The walls of the place were adorned with the stars of our day in comparison to the black and whites of celebrities from the past that graced the walls of Jerry's Deli. That's what made Larry Parker's so hip. My own autographed eight-by-ten was sandwiched between Larenz Tate and Sinbad.
"It's really simple, I give you fifty-thousand of this and I need fifteen back," I told Speedy, who sat across from me eating a full stack of pancakes.
I knew Speedy would be down. He was a LA native and he had done some time for receipt of stolen goods. I was sure the contacts he had in the streets would make it easy for him to be successful in my army of counterfeiters.
"So I make ten g's off of every fifty? I can do that!" he replied in between bites.
I knew that Marc was going to be the weak link in my crew. Not because he was a fuck-up, but because he was going to have to move any amount I gave him one bill at a time. Where Speedy could sell the paper in weight to underworld folks he knew, Marc was going to have to break the bills and collect change. Marc was my boy and I wanted him to get it while I had it, so I went against my better judgment and included him.
"Marc, of course, if this is something you don't think you can do, brother, by all means don't involve yourself. This is some straight FED shit."
Jessica was kind enough to give Marc pointers on establishments that would readily accept the bills and not draw attention.
"You can purchase fifty dollars’ worth of gas and keep the change a thousand times if you like, but that shit would be tedious."
I had already devised a few ways where we could rid ourselves of a ton of the loot and have some fun at the same time.
"I'm a rollercoaster enthusiast and there might not be a more money hungry place in our country than the theme park industry." I told them.
Speedy stopped eating and ogling at my fine companion and let out a loud laugh.
“So you telling me that you are going to gorge Mickey Mouse with this play money?" he asked.
"Walt Disney prints his own dough and passes it off to his patrons; it only makes sense that we buy his bullshit with our bullshit. Plus, Disney isn't the only place this will work. There are over seven hundred amusement parks in the world."
I could tell from how she was squeezing my hand and smiling that Jessica was impressed with my ingenuity.
"Cameron, I have to admit that's a cold blooded plan. You know if you put this much effort into hustling Hollywood they would give you a star in front of Mann's Chinese Theatre," Marc quipped.
I knew he was right, but if things happened the way I hoped with the tour and our hustling, I felt I would be able to buy me a star of my own.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I had been so preoccupied with handling business and pleasure with my Bay Area connection, that I missed several calls from the 619 area code. The singing trio had shown their interest in what I could possibly do for them and I had inadvertently blown them off. Today found me in North Hollywood at what I called the condo of horrors. Lance's place had been vacant since the awful night of Gwen's disposal. When I purchased the two-bedroom condo, I had intended to keep it as my fuck pad bachelor spot. My nightmares, starring the strangled beauty, thwarted those plans in an instant. The only reason I could stomach being here was the addition of the cleaning crew and moving company I hired to get the spot in order to be occupied.
As the movers packed Lance's personal articles to be transported to a storage facility, I was struck by the idea of leasing the condo to the girls.
"May I speak with Monica, please?" I spoke into the phone loudly because there was a ruckus on the other end of the line.
"Don't y'all see I'm on the phone? Damn, y'all are rude." Monica screamed at whomever was making all the noise.
"Hello?"
"Hello? Is this Monica?"
"This is Monica speaking. Who may I ask is calling?"
"My name is Cameron. We met at Jerry's Deli." There was a pause and then, deafening silence over the line.
"Hello? Are you still there?" I asked, making sure we still had a connection.
"I'm still here. I guess you just go around getting people's hopes up for kicks, huh?" she spat.
I didn't owe her an explanation, but an apology was in order.
"I would like to apologize. I've been swamped with writing and preparing for some tour dates. I hope all of you will forgive me.”
Monica accepted on behalf of the entire group. She explained to me that when they had been trying to reach me, the group had depleted their funds and couldn't afford to remain in Los Angeles. When I hadn't responded, they packed it in and went back to San Diego.
"So have you ladies given up on your dreams of making it or do you still aspire to succeed?" I questioned.
"Oh, we still believe we can make it. It's just that we can't finance our dream anymore."
I was sitting on enough cash to help out. The Kwan currency was too much for me to enjoy alone. I figured that if I enlisted the hungry trio in my crew, it could be a win-win situation for all of us.
"What if I told you that your financial problems weren't a problem anymore and you ladies had a place to stay?"
"I'd say you were full of shit."
"I can understand why you would feel that way. Again, I'm sorry to have not been available, but I'm able now to help."
"And you want what in return for your assistance?"
"I don't want any more than what I'm willing to invest in your careers. And I have a business proposition I'd like to run by you."
"Hmmm. A business proposition? Is that what folks in L.A. call giving up some ass now?"
"Oh, Monica, you got it all wrong," I corrected her. "If you and your friends will come to North Hollywood, I can better explain myself."
Monica was the spokesperson for the group, but she couldn't assure that the other two would be interested. I told her to run it past them and to call me back.
While Monica was conferring with Cynthia and Sabrina, I took the liberty to draw up a leasing agreement on Lance's desktop computer before the movers packed it up for storage.
I wasn't surprised to receive a call back from Monica confirming the ladies were willing to hear my offer. Monica wasn't playing when she told me their funds had been completely depleted. In good faith, I wired her three thousand dollars. If they were going to fuck me over, this was their chance.
"You are giving us each a thousand dollars and you don't want no ass?"
"Nope."
"And you aren't gay? I hear Hollywood is littered with brothers on the down low."
"Nope. I like pussy as much as I need air," I said, telling her the complete and honest truth.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
After the cleaning crew and the movers left, I exited the condo as well. Not that I was superstitious but I wasn't chancing it. Instead, I sat in the black 911 I purchased from Lance when he departed town and awaited the girls' arrival. I had the roof blown, a ciga
r lit, and Sly Stone's greatest hits playing on the system. I was sure Lance's neighbors could appreciate Sly's psychedelic funk much more than the go-go beat that had once banged over these very same speakers.
“Que Sera” was ending when the girls pulled up to the eight-story building in a yellow Honda CRX. I flagged them down and exited the car, motioning for the ladies to park in the space beside me.
"It's a pleasure to see you three ladies again," I said, greeting the three San Diego natives. "I appreciate that you made it in such good time."
"Monica almost killed us three times driving like a maniac, but here we are," said Sabrina, the sexy dark-skinned singer who was now rocking braids.
"I'm glad you ladies made it in one piece. If not, my initial investment would be blown," I chided with a wide smile.
"Thanks for believing in us and for the advance," Cynthia told me before walking over and planting a kiss on my cheek.
Sabrina followed suit and thanked me with a kiss. Last to get out of the car was Monica. She was looking good in black stretch pants, a blue jean shirt and sandals.
"I don't know why you bitches are complaining. Y'all wanted to get here just as bad as I did. Hey, Cameron, I appreciate the G. How about telling us what's up?"
"So much for small talk. Well ladies, if you will follow me, I can better begin the process of informing you," I replied coolly. The lovely vision of the trio made the thought of hitting all three cross my mind.
As instructed, the young ladies followed me inside the building and we took the elevator to the condo. Cynthia suggested we take the stairs. I, of course, shot that idea down and it had nothing to do with fear of exercise.
When we opened the door and entered the fully furnished apartment, Monica turned to me with rage in her eyes. "Cameron, I don't know what you think this is, but our voices are going to get us to the top. Not the talents we have on our backs." The other two girls crossed their arms and nodded their agreement.
"You have me all wrong. This condo belongs to me and I was showing it to you to see if the three of you would be interested in moving in."
Each of the women looked over the spacious dwelling. After the inspection, it was time to talk business. I showed them the lease and told them that it was already paid for.
"All I ask of you ladies is that you practice your craft with extreme diligence and not get caught up in the nightlife of L.A."
"But isn't that when all the deals get made?" asked Cynthia.
"Oh course they do, but most of what happens at night is under the table. The meetings I'll try to get for you will be legitimate."
"Okay, so let's say we move up here and practice our asses off. How are we supposed to make money to live on?" questioned Sabrina.
"Yeah, explain that to us, Mr. Bernard," chimed in Monica.
This was the time to spring on them the opportunity to join in on my counterfeit endeavors. There were two ways to handle it. One would be to finesse it or the other would be to be as blunt as kindergarten scissors. I chose to keep it one hundred and tell them the real.
"Ladies, you can do a few things in this town. You can wait tables, maybe substitute teach, get a job with a temp agency or take on the oldest profession in the world. From what I've gathered, the last option is beneath you all, so just strike that I mentioned that. But if you really want some serious loot, you got to have a little hustle about yourselves," I told them as I unrolled the knot of 100's I had in my pocket and placed it on the table.
"Whatever it is that has you in a Porsche, owning a sweet pad like this, and keeping a wad of cash like that, I'm sure I can speak for all of us that we would rather do that," Monica stated.
I had them inspect the bills and asked them which one's they thought were legit and which ones weren't.
"They all look real to me and I used to work at a bank as a teller," Sabrina stated.
Monica was fingering the Kwan currency and comparing it against one of the hundreds she received from Western Union.
"Shit. I can't tell but if you can produce this kind of quality, I know some bloods in my neighborhood that would take a boatload."
Cynthia was the only girl who hadn't examined the cash. She didn't care to know the difference. She already had decided that she would be blissfully ignorant.
"I'm hoping you ladies decide to join me. If you're against it and still want to stay in the condo, the rent is twenty-five hundred a month. All I ask of you is that you don't make mention of what we've discussed today."
The group was eager to join in. I was happy to have them in the fold.
"You know, Cameron; it's not like Monica was totally against getting with you," Sabrina remarked.
"From what she told me, I would beg to differ," I said.
"What I told you was I wasn't going to just be giving up no ass. The thousand dollars you sent was a deposit. The actual price was going to be much more," Monica said with a smile.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The girls had been doing their thing, grinding out the dividends and bringing me what was owed in speedy fashion. Anna was becoming more and more of a distraction. She wasn't happy with her banishment from my inner circle. Her feisty Latina ways had rubbed my hummingbirds wrong. Monica told me that if Anna was going to be on our upcoming trip to Vegas to move some money, they would rather not make money than be in her company. The good history that existed between Anna and I was no longer in play and there was no way for me to fix that. Jessica's existence in my life was making my home life difficult enough; there wasn't any room for a fling with my once steady south of the border delicacy. I thought I was being kind enough allowing her to be party to my money-making schemes.
I wasn't about to fuck up my crew to satisfy Anna's increasing demands of more profit and my attention. Being cold toward her was hard though, so instead of terminating our business relationship over the phone, I thought it would be best that I paid her a visit.
My folks at Statewide Auto had just laced me with a salvaged 1995 Jet Black Range Rover. The truck had fallen off the delivery truck and the dealer collected the insurance claim. My people called me and informed me that they had something special I might dig. I had enough cash to walk onto any lot and cop a brand new one, but my loyalty to those who fucked with me when I was down and dirty hadn't wavered. The fully loaded SUV filled a need that my association with Mario in Memphis provided. It wasn't like the Jaguar was designed to haul around the electronics he was hooking me up with and at the price of twenty-five thousand cash, it was too sweet of a deal for me to walk away from.
When I pulled up at Anna's apartment, I lit a Cuban Hoya de Hoya before exiting the British 4x4. She never complained about the large plumes of smoke and I needed that cool high I knew Fidel's tobacco would provide to carry out my task.
I was surprised but not shocked when she opened the door naked as the day in which she was born. Not too long ago, in what seemed like forever, Anna being ready for me to stab her with my phallic lance would have been a welcomed sight, but today I was unmoved by her curves.
"Come on in, papa. I was trying on some outfits for the fight," she said, ushering me into her lair.
"Hey Anna, I don't have a lot of time. I have to run to Encino to drop off some merchandise, but I needed to holla at you."
"Do you want to holla at me or make me holla?" she asked, drawing near me.
"I'm here about business," I replied, sidestepping her and thwarting her advancement.
"It's about those bitches, huh?"
I nodded, answering her question.
Anna walked over to her couch and grabbed her burgundy robe adorned with cream flower prints. I was thrilled that she did so. It was going to be a battle to remain calm and not accept her invitation to ecstasy if she hadn't covered herself up. She slouched down into the furniture I had purchased when this apartment was my leisurely escape from the reality of my home life.
"So what's up, Cameron?" Anna asked with her eyes devoid of any affection and her tone eve
n more distant.
"This is not going to work out between us."
"If you're talking about those girls, I can handle them. They are just on some territorial stuff and trying to position themselves. I’m not worried about them at all."
"That's not really what I'm even concerned about. I'm talking about you and me dealing with each other. I brought you in because I thought you would be an asset. You handled yourself well when we were mashing with Lance, but since you and I aren't involved anymore it seems you have every intention on disrupting the flow."
"Cameron, did you come to my home to cut me off? Isn't it enough that you flaunt that cinnamon-haired bitch in my face?"
"I came by to talk with you and give you this." I reached into my computer bag, retrieving a bundle of cash and ignoring her derogatory statement about my lover. I gave her the five thousand dollars she would have made and another five thousand I decided was appropriate to give her as a parting gift.
"I'll assume this is legal tender," she spat, accepting the offering.
It offended me that Anna would even consider that I would give her some work as compensation considering the good times and friendship we had shared.
I assured her the cash was legitimate.
Every good thing has an ending and our good was gone.
"This thing I have going has to be harmonious and to be honest, the change in the dynamics of our relationship is just causing too many ripples."
"I can try and be better, Cameron. I can be a good teammate. I could be even more than that if you would just let me," Anna begged.
"That's just it, Anna. There isn't any other position open in this organization. It’s best that we be done with it all."
Anna sat on the couch with tears welling in her eyes. I knew that my words had hurt, but I was surprised when she broke her silence.