by Cortney Gee
I had been having a good thing with the Monopoly money but knew better than to think of it as a career move. Jessica had seen it coming on and worried that our not hustling together would affect our relationship. But she didn't have to worry; I was too entrenched and invested in her love to even consider breaking it off.
"Hey, Cameron, Korupt invited us to Club 662 for the Row's After Party. You cool with that?" Sabrina asked me.
"Brina, you can go and be a fan if you like but me, I'm going to the spot where I'm VIP, sweetie."
After the show, we all piled into our awaiting limos and headed over to the Shark Bar. My announcement of the after party to the crowd, aided in making our after-set a jam-packed affair.
TMB and Mouton had set it out for us in the roped-off VIP area. There were bottles of high end liquor and champagne for my crew and the celebrities who joined us. Biz Markie was our special DJ for the affair, and he was bumping sounds of Blackstreet's newly released jam “No Diggity” that had everyone in the place gigging on the dance floor or bopping in their seats, when he interrupted the party to announce that Tupac Shakur had been shot.
Because Pac had been shot before and recovered, it didn't seem to faze the groove. I guess everyone thought like I did -- that he would recover and write a rap about how his assailants had failed to take him off the planet. Unfortunately, we would all be wrong and within a few days he would be with us no more.
The Shark Bar was an upscale two-level establishment. The scantly lit room was only illuminated by the color display at the bar and the dance floor lights. Jessica wanted to get her boogie on. It didn't take much persuasion from her to get me to follow. The dress she wore was more than enough.
Marc and Beijing were already dancing. We took up the space near them.
"I think they make a cute couple. What do you think?" she asked.
"I think he got what he paid for," I replied, stoically.
"Damn, I didn't know."
"I don't think she's a pro. Marc flashed some loot at the strip club and she decided to take the day off. Marc is really just compensating the young lady for her time."
"They say everybody pays for it at some point, " she replied over loud music.
"So at what point do I become the trick?" I questioned.
Jessica responded by turning around and gyrating her round ass into my groin.
"Actually, I've been the one who's been tricking. Remember, I bought you a drink first."
That was what I liked about Jessica; not only was she superfine she was also quick wit.
Biz Markie slowed down the tempo and dedicated Heatwave's slow jam classic “Always and Forever” to all the lovers in the house.
I wasn't surprised when Marc and Beijing remained on the dance floor.
"Would you be mad if I asked that we sit this one out? My feet are killing me," Jessica said.
If anyone understood what it was like to have your shoes quit on you while the night was still young, I did. I convinced my freckled-faced mistress that all was good and led her back to the VIP area.
When we arrived back to the suede couches, I refreshed her champagne and put three fingers of Tennessee's finest whiskey in my glass.
"You're really feeling yourself tonight, aren't you?" asked Speedy.
"Of course I am and you would be too if you followed my lead and put your money on the two- minute knockout like I did."
"I did. Unfortunately, I only had five thousand to play instead of the thirty large you gambled."
I felt where he was coming from but with Kwan coinage at their disposal, I believed Speedy would have gambled with the same reckless abandon I had.
After a barrage of slow jams, the DJ again sped up the pace. Sabrina tugged at Speedy to join her. My friend offered no resistance and followed Brina to shake their asses.
"Baby, you wanna dance or are your feet still fucking with you?" I asked Jessica.
"I'm cool on dancing. You're welcome to go and dance with someone if you like."
I leaned into her with my drink in hand and gave Jessica the what-you-talking-bout-Willis gaze. I then grabbed her legs, swung her toward me, and removed her high-heeled shoes.
Jessica squealed when I began rubbing her soles and massaging her toes.
"You doing too much, CB! Foot rubs in the VIP? That's gangsta," yelled Cedric the Entertainer.
"Yeah, nigga, you done flipped the game with that shit right there," AJ Johnson chimed in.
I knew the fellas were just bustin' my balls so my smile was my only response to their statements.
"Reesie, if you keep treating me like a queen I’ll be forced to demand a higher position than second in command," she told me.
Although Jessica was smiling, I knew she was dead damn serious and I was soon going to be forced to ruin my home life by making a commitment to her or even worse, by making the decision to lay down 'an Anna' and send her along her merry way. Neither choice would find me truly happy.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Now that the fight, Tupac being shot, and my big comedy show was all over, it was finally time for my meeting with BET ComicView’s Executive Producer, Curtis Gadson, in Burbank.
I entered the building and took the one flight up until I reached the door adorned with the BET logo.
"Good morning, Mr. Bernard, welcome to Black Entertainment Television," said Traci Nelson, the drop-dead gorgeous copper-colored, green-eyed receptionist.
"Look at you being all professional. Mr. Bernard? Really Traci?" I replied.
"Whatever, Cameron, I'm trying to keep this job until another tour comes about," the talented background singer told me.
I assured her she had nothing to fear.
"Curtis likes eye candy in his work environment and you're so sweet to look at, I might need insulin."
"Boy, if you don't sit your flattering ass down. I'll let Mr. Gadson know you're here."
I obediently did as I was told.
Within fifteen minutes, Curtis called Traci.
"Cameron, Mr. Gadson will see you now."
I exited the reception area and took the stairs one flight up. When I reached his office, Curtis was sitting at his massive oak desk with his back to me.
"Good morning, Cameron; please have a seat."
Once I was seated, he spun around and faced me with a cigar clenched in his teeth.
"My lovely wife insisted that it's too early in the day to enjoy a smoke, but I beg to differ. I say smoke them if you got them. Care to join me?"
With the offer of the stogie, Curtis was fattening the calf to be ready for slaughter. I reached into the black finished box and grabbed a Hoya de Hoya. I figured if I was going to be given an offer, I couldn't refuse I might as well be a high-end hoe. As I leaned over to light what Cigar Aficionado magazine rated as one of the top cigars, he continued, "So I hear that you are apprehensive about coming to work for me."
"No that's not it at all, brother. It's just that I've been really doing well with this comedy tour and I don't want to sabotage the opportunity by being bogged down in an office."
"Hmmm. So what you're telling me is that you aren't against taking the job?"
"No, not at all. I relish the chance to do business with you and develop my writing skills."
"Tell you what I'll do. I'll make it where you don't have to come into the office. You can do your punch-ups of the scripts via email."
"I'm sure that I can swing that. Thanks for making accommodations so that I can be employable."
The six-foot-three bearded brother rose and walked over to his window.
"I'm willing to bend for you based on two conditions. One, you do a good job on the scripts and two, you and I partner up on your tour. BET would be proud to be a sponsor."
"If the decision was mine alone I would say yes. I have two partners to consider. Let me consult with them and get back with you."
"That's overstood. To sweeten the deal, how about I throw in an hour special? We could film your LA date at Univers
al."
"Curtis, you do realize the concert isn’t TV friendly?"
"Of course I do. It would run on our BET After Dark programming."
The offer was too good to refuse. With BET's branding behind this, the already popular Wild Wild West show would be a smash hit.
There was a wrap on the door. Much to my surprise, it was Sheila Fraser from the black exploitation classic Superfly.
"Curtis, I apologize for disturbing you, but those contracts we discussed earlier need your attention."
We were pretty much finished with our meeting. It wasn't like I could make a decision by being there any longer. So I excused myself.
"Give me a couple of days and I'll get back at you with an answer," I told Curtis, rising from my seat and extending my hand.
"Sounds like a plan. Cameron, don't keep me waiting," he replied, ending the meeting with a firm shake.
I left the building feeling proud of myself. I had gone there out of courtesy to reject a job. I exited with a huge deal on the table. All that was left for me to do was to talk with Mouton and TMB.
I was certain they would be delighted with the partnership possibilities, but of course thought comes from not knowing so I dialed them up.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
"Cameron, I need you to handle my business while I do this bid," TMB said over the phone line.
He had been sentenced to sixteen months for a probation violation and he didn't want to be butt naked on his books.
"Yeah, man, of course I can do that. You just need to show me how and I got you," I replied.
"I will do just that. Can you come to town today?"
I informed TMB that I was free to head up north. Being in the Bay Area had a whole new meaning since meeting Jessica. Telling Karen about another trip to Oakland wasn't going to be easy and I knew there was an argument to be had.
“I'll only be gone for the day and I'll be right back," I promised Karen, even though I knew my promise would be empty if I was having a good time. Hooking up with Carrot almost always guaranteed an extended stay.
Even though I had taken the time and was courteous enough to weave a good lie, Karen gave me hell about it anyway. I packed a light bag and headed over to Burbank airport. Verbally jousting with Karen caused me to almost miss the Southwest airline flight TMB had arranged for me. My hour-long flight was entertaining, the flight crew was hilarious. To me they were wasting their time in the airline industry. They could have easily been peers of mine in the comedy game. Especially the light-skinned short cropped hair wearing, Jodi. Her quick wit and sarcasm was ready-made for a sitcom. I was glad I already had two someone’s. If I hadn't, surely I would have made a play at her. When we touched down in Oakland, I waited until the plane emptied so I could walk to the rear and fetch my stowed carry-on luggage.
"I was wondering when you were going to come back here to get your things," Jodi said, holding my computer bag in one hand and her telephone number in the other. "You never know when you might want to reach out and touch me."
I was going to tell her my plate was full, but instead I dishonestly promised to give her Phoenix number a jingle. This was one of those moments when I wished Marc was with me so I could rub it in his face that my celebrity had been my mouthpiece. After my quick conversation with Jodi, I disembarked the plane and made way to the arrival area of the airport.
"Come on outside. I'm waiting for you here," Jessica purred across the cellular connection.
"All right, sweetie, see you in a minute," I replied before pressing end on my StarTac and closing the flip lid.
When I reached outside, I was welcomed by the sight of my crimson curly haired mistress dressed in matching cream pants and blouse leaning against a BMW 850 csi custom painted to match her fiery mane.
Jessica ran into my arms and greeted me with a kiss that didn't care about who might see.
"It is so good to see you, baby. I have missed you so much," she told me as her lips parted mine.
I agreed with her that the two weeks apart had been far too long and I wasn't just saying that to make her happy. I, too, longed for her fiercely.
I was just about to compliment her on the new whip when the Southwest flight crew exited the terminal. I cringed when Jodi started waving.
"It was a pleasure having on the flight, Cameron B," Jodi said, amusing her gay crew mate.
"Oh yeah, you guys were hella fun. Thanks," I responded before hurriedly getting into the car.
"You just are too irresistible, Reesie. Is there not anyone that you don't charm?" Jessica asked.
I was relieved that she wasn't acting all jealous and shit. Had that happened while Karen was scooping me from the airport, there would have been no way I could have convinced her I hadn't become a Mile High Club member with Jodi's help. I wasn't saying this to characterize my baby's mamma as some insecure maniac. I was simply saying Karen was territorial and didn't play that shit.
Instead of replying to Jessica's statement, I just shrugged and smiled.
"This is quite the car, sweetie. Did you trade in the Benz?" I questioned, admiring the cream interior with red piping.
"No, I still have it. We've been so productive I treated myself."
The sleek German coupe powered through the traffic as we headed to Berkley to eat at Picante. TMB said it was the best Mexican food we could get outside Mexico.
I was looking forward to seeing if all his boasting was real or just Bay Area hype.
My friend and business partner, who was soon to be state property, was already there and awaiting our arrival.
"If you want me to hold back while you two talk, I can do that," Jessica said while parking the car.
"What? And leave your pretty ass alone in this bomb ass car? Shit, I’m watching what's mine," I chided, but I was oh so real at the same time.
"Obviously, you didn't read my license plates, Reesie."
I exited the vehicle and smiled when I saw the California vanity plates: TAKEN.
"I didn't want to give anyone the impression that there was even a minute chance," she told me, grasping my hand and leading me toward the two-story brick establishment that had enticing aromas emitting from it.
TMB was sitting in a booth with a bowl of tortilla chips and salsa in front of him.
"Cam Breezie, what's cracking, family? And good afternoon to you, Jessica. Please join me."
Jessica returned TMB's greeting with a smile, then slid in the booth.
"Same shit different day, folks. So you said you had trouble coming your way. How can I be of assistance, my brother?" I asked my soon-to-be imprisoned friend.
"It's not really that deep. It's more of a bump in the road. I don't want to lose my clientele in the interim, ya dig? I see how you move and I know you will be righteous about giving me what's mine."
I assured TMB that he had the right dude. Even when it pained me to do so, I always paid my toll. I was pleased to know he thought of me in such a positive light. But I was curious as to why he hadn't asked our mutual friend to handle his business, so I asked him that.
"You don't trust Cool Mou to do this for you?"
"I figured you would ask that."
"Am I that predictable?" I questioned.
"No, not at all. I figure you would inquire because I would have done the same thing."
Our conversation was interrupted when the waitress came to take our order. Not only did Picante offer authentic Mexican food, their staff looked fresh from the border.
We began by ordering a pitcher of silver margaritas made with Patron. Being the two gentlemen that we were, TMB and I insisted that Jessica order first. She perused the menu and decided on pescado en macum salmon rubbed with achiote layered with tomato, onion & chile dulce, cooked in a banana leaf served with morisqueta rice and plaintain "tostones." I still hadn’t decided on my meal so TMB took that as his cue to place his order of chicken served with Mexican red rice, refried beans and four handmade corn tortillas.
I finally decided
on beef served with Mexican red rice, black beans and four handmade corn tortillas steak carne asada-style, rubbed with adobo rojo and grilled.
While we awaited our meals, TMB instructed me on how to handle his business.
"Here's my cousin, Joey's number. If this should go south, give him a call," he said, referring to the mountain of credit card profiles he had given me.
I had already seen where a new wrinkle in the game could be applied to simplify the beezles. Instead of calling in to the airlines and being frustrated with their automated phone system. I would book all the flights via the web.
"So how much would you be expecting me to apply to your books?" I questioned.
"Shit, I would be happy to get three g's a month. You'll find that your profit after looking out for me will be well worth your effort. There are platinum, gold and even some black cards in there."
"So we're talking forty stacks in all? Damn, you must be planning on buying a lot of zoom zooms and wow wows! Okay, I can do that," I told him as we shook hands, solidifying the deal.
I reached into my computer bag and pulled out eight stacks of banded hundred dollar bills. I could tell from the look on Jessica's face that she wondered if I had passed him Kwan coinage.
"Nah, it's just that I don't trust my money in no bank."
"What hustler does?"
"None that I know of. Real talk, I can't think of a safer place for my bread than an institution loaded with armed guards."
"I dig that. Look, Curtis is for real about sponsoring the show. Do you have any reservations about partnering up with BET?" I inquired.
"Cameron, if you cool with it, Mou and me are all for it. That will only have me coming home to more money, ya dig?"
"I know Curtis is the real deal Holyfield when it comes to his word. We should be real cool."
As we were concluding our business the waitress came out with our meals. We dined on the delicious entrees and parted ways.
"So where to next, Reesie?" asked my auburn haired lover with her hands on the steering wheel of her Bavarian super car.