“Why would I retire at forty? If I quit my job I’ll have fun for a month or two. Then I’ll be bored, and what am I going to do for the next thirty or forty years? A man needs a purpose. Without a purpose, you don’t live. Maybe you should think about getting a job, too.”
“I paid my dues already. I’m not working anywhere.”
“I don’t feel that way, and I’m staying in Philly. Kadir is grown, and he won’t even be here. And if he needs me, he will call.”
“So how does that work? Me here and you there?”
“Mo, I don’t know; that’s what I want to talk about. I love you, but . . .”
“But what?”
“You know we haven’t been right for a while, and now we can stop pretending. You don’t even look at me in that way anymore.”
“I do, Carl. I was trying to look at you like that right now.”
“Now you want me? Monique, all your concentration has been on Kadir and basketball for years. You haven’t been thinking about me.”
“Carl, this isn’t making any sense. Is there anybody else?”
“No, not at all. I love you and we aren’t breaking up. We’re just taking a break.”
“A break? Okay.” It was sudden, but everything Carl said was true. I couldn’t disagree. However, it didn’t make any sense that now that we had everything we fought for, we would give up on each other.
CHAPTER 18
Tiffany
I was at this pathetic job for almost a month, and I still wasn’t adjusted to waking up early, having a set lunchtime, or having to ask for advance permission to take the day off. I had to endure training with a bunch of dumb people who didn’t have any phone etiquette. How unintelligent did you have to be not to be able to answer the telephone? That took up the first two weeks, and now we were live on the floor answering phone calls.
Every morning, I parked my car around the corner and walked to the office building. The last thing I wanted was anyone to see me driving an expensive car. I wanted to blend in like everyone else.
At lunch, I sat by myself. Making friends was not on my to-do list. That didn’t stop a young girl named Shanae from sitting next to me. She was brown-skinned with dimples and long braids.
“I love your bag. Your ring is nice also.”
“Thanks.”
“It almost looks real. Where did you get it from?”
I gave her a dumb smirk. “It is real.”
She laughed. “Yeah, I know. It is a good copy. Tiffany, where are you from?”
“Baltimore. Well, really, Charlotte, North Carolina.”
“How do you like the job so far?”
“It’s okay.”
“That’s what I said, a paycheck, right? My commute is an hour and fifteen minutes. I make four dollars an hour more here than at my last job at the mall.”
“Interesting,” I said, looking at her, not the least bit interested. “Do you know how much we make and when we get paid? I forgot to ask.”
She laughed again, almost spitting her food out. “Sixteen an hour.”
“That’s it?”
“Girl, what’s wrong with you? That’s the first thing you are supposed to ask. After they take out taxes, we should clear like nine hundred or so depending on how many dependents you claimed. I claimed five. I rather get my money now than later.”
“Yeah, of course.” I smiled, still wondering why she was so friendly. She made me remember that I had to pay our cable bill. My phone buzzed. “Excuse me, I have to take this call.” I stepped out of the cafeteria area and took the call from my mother.
“Hey, where are you?”
“Mom, I’m at work.”
“You really are working? If you need money, I can transfer some money into your account.”
“No, we are fine. I’m working.”
“Are you sure, Tiffany?”
“Yes, I am. Yeah, if anything changes, I will call you later in the week.”
“Well, I’m very proud of the way you are handling everything. God knows I would be crying every day if I was living under those conditions.” My mother was always good with her backhanded compliments.
“Thank you, Mom. I have to get back to work. I will talk to you later.”
At the end of the day, they handed us our paychecks. I ripped it open, and I couldn’t believe the amount. I made nine hundred and seventy-five dollars. All of that getting up early and driving for a half hour in traffic, and this was my paycheck?
Besides my paycheck, I was even more irritated when I saw Damien standing outside of my job, leaned up against his car. He had this big smile on his face. I walked over to him and pulled him to the other side of the parking lot.
“What are you doing here, Damien?” I asked, looking all around. The last thing I needed was for someone to recognize him and my mediocre job cover to be blown.
“I have good news. I have a job.”
“Where?”
“At the dealership. I was getting the car serviced. I sat in the showroom, and I was talking to the owner. Then someone came in and I started showing him a 550. You know I know my cars. So then the guy asked if we could go for a test drive and the general manager said go ahead. We took the car out, and when we came back in, the man bought the car. As soon as he left, the GM, Chuck, said, ‘Damien why don’t you come on board?’ ”
“That’s nice, Dame. How much does it pay?”
“Do you know for that one car I made two thousand dollars? He said they had it for a long time. It was a target car, and I came right in there and sold it.”
“Two thousand dollars? Just for one car? It took me two weeks for nine hundred.”
“Let’s go to dinner and celebrate. We both have jobs now.”
“No, I’m too tired. You don’t have that money yet, and I’m not sure if my paycheck is enough to pay our cell phones, cable, and buy groceries.”
“We have enough, and I get paid in two weeks. I want to take you out to get a steak from Fernando’s.”
“We can’t afford Fernando’s.”
“Yes, we can.”
“No, we can’t. Our bill is always three hundred dollars or more. We don’t have that kind of money. And we can’t afford this car anymore. You shouldn’t have been getting it serviced. Don’t you get it? This is our new life, our new normal—getting up and going to work every day, not steak and lobster dinners. Plus, I have to get up for work in the morning.”
“I don’t know why you’re getting upset. I told you, you didn’t have to work. I have a job now.”
“I’m upset because we have to move everything out of our dream home, but you want me to pretend like none of it is going on. I can’t do that. You’re still in living in a dream world and I’m thinking realistically.”
“You’re right, Tiffany, but the way I see it is I’m so good at selling cars that I can probably open my own car lot in a few years. I know it’s not millions, but some of the guys make a hundred fifty thousand a year. That’s a nice living if it’s managed properly. So, it’s all going to work out.”
“I still think we should go buy groceries. I’ll meet you at the house.”
I went to the market, came home, and started cooking. Just because we couldn’t go to a fancy restaurant didn’t mean we couldn’t eat like we were at one. I bought us steak, potatoes, shrimp, and lobster tails already steamed. After thirty minutes of fumbling around the kitchen I was done cooking.
I did the best I could. The lobster was okay, but my steak was kind of overcooked. Damien came in and ate my mess of a meal like it was something delicious. We ate dinner and watched a little television. We snuggled on the sofa until the late news went off. I was happy he had a job, but I wouldn’t feel completely safe until we were in our new home and we had some money in the bank.
The next morning, Damien got up early, showered before me, and was out the door on his way to the dealership. He wished me a good morning and kissed me on the cheek before leaving. He was no longer moping around and dow
n and out. I was proud of him. I saw a hint of light finally coming through the dark clouds. That was pure luck, him getting his car serviced and then landing a job without even trying.
CHAPTER 19
Adrienne
I landed in the City of Angels, and I had to admit to myself that I was probably crazy. I’d just traveled across the country to have one meeting. It was the most spontaneous thing I have ever done. However, I was confident that it would be well worth it. Before I left, I apologized to my mom. I was wrong for cussing her out, but I needed her to stay out of my business. Truth be told, she is the only family I have besides Asia.
I rented a car and checked into my hotel and had a little to eat. After watching some television, I pulled out my clothes for the next day. I selected a simple black dress and navy blazer. I turned in early, so that I could be well rested for the next day.
The next afternoon walking out of my hotel room, I felt a bit nervous. But after drinking coffee, I was fine.
I was meeting Carlos Peters from Aviera Films at a small café. I arrived ten minutes early, and he was already seated at the table, dressed in a very nice suit. I tried to hide my enthusiasm. My phone rang just as I was about to have a seat. It was my mom, so I sent her to voice mail.
“Hi, I’m Adrienne Sheppard.”
He stood up and said, “It’s very nice to meet you, Adrienne.” He asked me what I was having for lunch. I ordered a salad, because I was too nervous to eat anything else. Our food arrived, and we made small talk before Carlos began talking about my script.
“Ms. Sheppard, I and my associate read Falcon Hall Boys, and we absolutely loved it.”
“Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“We also are interested in representing you. We have many connections at film studios such as Sony, Columbia Tri-Star, and Warner Brothers. With that said, the script is good, but we need it to be great. We just need you to fix up the script some.”
“Okay, that’s fine.” Ian said he didn’t care what they changed this time around, and I wasn’t going to object to anything.
“Perfect, so in order to get Falcon Hall Boys to be great, it needs to go to a script doctor. They will give it a little polish and then it will shine and be more sellable.” I nodded in agreement. I was just waiting to hear how much he wanted to buy it for.
“Adrienne, it will be twenty-five hundred for the script doctor. Will that be a problem? It doesn’t have to be cash. They do accept credit cards.”
“Okay,” I responded. Here it was. I thought I was at a meeting with a legitimate company, but I was in a meeting with a scam artist who was trying to hustle me for money. Pay twenty-five hundred to fix a script? Did he really think I was going to fall for that scheme?
“Do you want to pay by credit card today or cash?” He pulled out a credit card adapter for his cell phone. Isn’t he an optimistic scam artist? I thought. I couldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t rude, but I told him thank you but no thank you.
* * *
Although my meeting was a bust, I decided instead of rushing back home and having to fly back out I would stay in L. A. a little longer. All I needed was a month to make something happen.
I tried to find an extended stay hotel, but they cost just as much as an apartment. So then I began searching for apartments that had month-to-month leases.
Luckily, the next day I found a small place in a neighborhood called West Adams. The leasing agent gave me a discount for paying for all four weeks at once. I didn’t have any furniture, but the last tenant left a kitchen table and chairs. I had my laptop and phone and I would buy an air mattress. I didn’t have any plans of resting while I was there. The apartment was fifteen minutes from downtown Los Angeles and right by the I-10 freeway. As I brought in my luggage, a young guy dressed in all blue held the door open for me.
“How’s it going, miss lady?”
“I’m fine.”
“If you need anything, I’m right down the hall. My name is Rico.”
“Thank you Rico.”
I settled into my small apartment and began coming up with a plan. My rent was paid, I had a few dollars in the bank thanks to DeCarious, and my mom planned to pick up my rent check from Talene and put it in my account. While I was out here, I planned on being in the gym so I could get my body back.
I called my mom and she answered on the first ring. “Mom, did you get a chance to pick up the rent?”
“I did, but when I went there that young lady didn’t answer the door. The window was broken and there were four cars in the driveway.”
“Okay, I’m about to call her. Then I will call you back.” I hung up with my mom and called Talene. Unlike my mom she didn’t answer immediately. I had to call her back three times before she finally picked up.
“Ms. Adrienne, sorry I didn’t answer, my ringer was off.”
“Talene. My mom came passed the house today, and she said there were several cars in my driveway, a window was broken, and you didn’t have the rent? What’s going on?”
“Oh, I had a few friends come through and Devaughn had locked himself out. So he had to break the window to get in, but we are going to fix the window this week. Yeah, I told your mom I didn’t have the rent yet, but I should have it by next week.”
“Our agreement was you were going to pay the balance when you moved in. You have to make sure you pay your rent and don’t damage my house.”
“I’ll have it next week. I promise.”
After a shower, I remembered to call my mother back.
“Mom, she said she’ll have it next week. I’m glad you went over there for me. Thanks.”
“That’s fine. Everything okay out there?”
“Yeah, I had a meeting yesterday. And I’ve decided to stay out here for a little while. I found a little cheap apartment—” I was interrupted by the sound of gunfire. “Hold on.”
“What was that, Adrienne?”
“Hold up, shh. It sounded like gunshots outside. I have to check it out.”
“Don’t go to the window. You might get shot.”
I took my mother’s advice and peeked out the window, only to see the Wild, Wild West outside. I hung up on her. There was a black car with a man hanging out of the window, shooting at guys who were standing in front of my building. They were shooting back. My heart began racing, and I ducked down to the ground. For at least ten minutes, I heard rapid fire. I felt like at any moment a stray bullet would come flying into my apartment. I fell to the floor. Then there was a pause. I heard the car take off and someone yell out, “Derk Gang!” I wondered if it was safe to go to the window. I lifted my head and glanced over the windowsill. I watched four men as they jumped into a white Buick sedan. One of them was that guy Rico who had opened the door for me. I couldn’t call my mother back and tell her that a gang war was going on outside of my new apartment building.
For the next three hours, I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t living in a gang-infested apartment complex and that I wasn’t going to die. I was lying to myself. I heard people walking past my door and loud noises all night. I looked out my peephole and saw a guy with two guns drawn. I guess he was the security. I was too frightened to leave the apartment, but more afraid to stay. I wanted to call the police, but what would I say? And how did I know the cops wouldn’t tell them who called? I decided I would just wait until the morning, get my deposit back, and find another apartment.
I stayed on the floor with the kitchen table against the door. I figured if the bullets came through, they would hit the table and not me.
At exactly ten a.m., I was at the rental office. Kelly, the bubbly rental agent from the day before, greeted me with a smile as she invited me in the office.
“Good morning!”
I didn’t have time for her pleasantries. “There are Crips and Bloods living in my building. I can’t live there. They were shooting, and I need my deposit back.”
“That’s not possible.”
“It’s very possib
le. It happened last night.”
“They are not Bloods, they’re Crips. Crips wear blue. Bloods wear red, and they would never live in the same complex. Conflict of interest.” Was she serious? She was giving me a lesson in gang affiliations 101. Did she think I cared?
“So, you are aware gangs live in my building, and they have shoot-outs at night? I want a refund.”
“No, ma’am. We don’t give any refunds. Didn’t you see the sign?” She pointed to a raggedy handwritten sign on yellow stationery that I didn’t notice previously.
“I gave you a full month’s rent yesterday and today I’m telling you I don’t want to live with gang members and you’re telling me I can’t get my money back?”
“Yes, unfortunately. I don’t make the rules, but feel free to write your grievances and send them to the building owner. Here is his e-mail address.” She scribbled down his address on a piece of paper. I snatched the paper from her hand, and I walked out of the office, slamming the door. I didn’t know what to do. I considered just packing up and leaving. I walked back to my apartment. The sun was bright and shining. Children were running, and an elderly woman was pushing her shopping cart down the street. It was in stark contrast from the previous night’s warfare. I wanted to ask them if they heard the shooting. Was it every day? Or maybe it was just a one-time occurrence? I called other hotels and apartment complexes, but there weren’t any available until next month. I couldn’t move in anywhere else until Talene sent the rest of the money anyway, since Kelly refused to give me back my deposit. I would have to deal with the gang activity, or die trying.
CHAPTER 20
Shanice
Deuce was the dude I met in New Orleans. Ashley V said he was someone I needed on my team. She said he had a lot of connections and just knowing him I could get a lot of jobs, and if he could help my career, I knew I should at least give him a chance. I was in New York already, so I figured what did I have to lose? He had a black SUV pick me up from my hotel, and said that the driver would bring me to him. His office was located on the Avenue of the Americas.
The driver opened my door and I walked into a large office building. I took the elevator to the fifteenth floor. I exited the elevator, and a petite, older African-American woman was behind the receptionist desk. Before I reached her desk, she said that Mr. Stewart was expecting me and would be with me shortly. Behind her was a large plaque that read “Regal Records.” I had a seat and took in the scenery of the record label. Album covers lined the hallway. It was the end of the day, and people were leaving while I was sitting in the lobby in a low-cut blue dress, wearing stiletto heels. I felt very inappropriately dressed for an office setting. They gave polite nods and hellos, when I knew they were wondering in the back of their minds what I was doing and where was I going. I stopped chewing my gum and brought my legs together so I would appear more sophisticated.
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