by T. J. Hope
She calmed herself outwardly, as she saw Daddy Dee and Sensual appear side stage. Agent Conner was in place and on cue. “Mink, you are the shit! That was your best performance yet. When you went to rappin’, damn, we going to be rich, girl! Come on, dinner is on me.”
“Will, I want to see the rest of the show,” Jamika complained.
“You have a performance tomorrow night, you need to rest.”
“Okay, let me just watch Sensual perform then.”
“Uh, alright. I’ll be at the dressing room,” he said, sounding disappointed.
Jamika took a mental note that Agent Conner was too good at this. The three women went onstage to start their performance. Daddy Dee stood there in a trance, looking at Sensual as if he didn’t see Jamika standing there.
Jamika walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder. “Shhh,” he said hurriedly, holding his hand up to Jamika. “Shhh yourself, Deonte. You can’t say hello to an old friend?”
“What? Why should I say hello?” Jamika could not believe this cold motherfucker. “Why not?” Jamika asked, appearing surprised by his actions.
“Well, I do not know you for one thing,” he said.
“Deonte, don’t play with me.” Jamika said, getting frustrated.
“Deonte? My name is Darrell. You must be mistaking me for someone else.”
“You are Daddy Dee. I know who you are.”
“Well, I don’t know who you are; I have never seen you before. I would have grabbed you. You are an excellent performer.”
What was happening? There was no way he could have forgotten her in only two years. Either he was onto them, or he was covering his tracks, just in case. Jamika had to keep trying.
“Look Dee. I am not mad at you for what happened. That is all in the past. I still have strong feelings for you. I just wish you would have told me, that’s all. I would have gotten that shit through.”
Daddy Dee looked at her with a confused look and said, “I’ve tried to tell you nicely, I don’t know what ‘shit’ you’re talking about. So, please, back up off me so I can watch my group perform!”
Jamika did just that. This was going to be a lot tougher than she’d imagined. She would have to come up with a different approach. She was on her way to the dressing room thinking of her next step, when she collided with a man. His hands felt strong and supportive around her waist as he stabilized her to prevent her from falling. After steadying her, he offered her his hand. He grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips for a soft kiss. Jamika felt like an electrical current swept through her arm; she involuntarily snatched her hand away.
“I’m sorry; I don’t want to offend you in any way. I should have been watching where I was walking,” he said.
“It’s okay.” Jamika observed the man; something in his eyes made him vaguely familiar to her.
He stood about 6’1”, and brown-skinned like the color of a Milky Way candy bar. His eyes were dark; he had a thin tailored mustache, and a perfectly shaped baldhead. Yet, those eyes; there was something so familiar about his eyes.
“Have we met?” Jamika asked, genuinely curious.
“I thought only us guys used that line,” he replied with a half grin.
“It’s not a pickup line. You just nearly knocked me over, remember? You just look kind of familiar to me.”
“Well, I’m the soundman; I do a lot of shows in the area. You’ve probably seen me around. I’ve definitely seen you. You are damn good out there on that stage.”
“Thank you,” Jamika said. She figured she must have seen him at a previous show, which would explain why he seemed so familiar. “Well, nice meeting you. My manager is waiting for me.” Jamika began to walk away.
“Uh, Mink,” he called after her. “Would it be too much trouble for me to ask what your real name is? You just seem to be something much more humble than a mink to me.”
“No, it’s no trouble at all. My name is Jamika.”
“Jamika. Is that right? I had a best friend named Jamika years and years ago.”
“Really? I didn’t think there were too many of us with this name. Why do you say had? Did she die or something?”
“No. She moved away when I was about eight or nine years old, and I never saw her again. I was living in New Jersey then, and she moved somewhere down south. Yeah, I always remembered her though. Some people your memory bank just doesn’t let go of, you feel me?”
Jamika hadn’t heard anything past Jersey. It couldn’t be. “Are you all right?” he was asking her.
“Wait a minute,” Jamika said, taking a deep breath and putting her hand to her head as if she felt faint. “Did you remember giving her anything when she left?”
He thought for a moment. “As a matter of fact I did. Why do you ask?”
Jamika felt around in her purse and pulled out her wallet. Behind the old weathered homecoming picture of her and Quinton, she felt for an old quarter that had been flattened by a train and given to her, over fifteen years earlier. The man looked at Jamika, puzzled as she fished through her purse. Before Jamika brought it completely out of her purse, she asked, “What did you give her?”
“It isn’t anything worth mentioning. I was only eight or nine years old.”
“I’m just curious,” Jamika persisted.
“I gave her a quarter that had been run over by a train. I know that sounds silly, but it was pretty cool back…” he fell speechless as he saw Jamika bring the old, flattened quarter from her bag. “Lil’ Tray?”
“Just… Tray these days. Jamika, I can’t believe it’s really you. This is a trip!”
“I know. What are you doing in Miami?”
“I went to UM for sound production, and I just ended up not going home once I graduated. You can’t beat this weather.”
“This is such a coincidence.”
“I know; we should go out to dinner or something. We have about, damn, at least fifteen years of making up to do.”
“I have a performance tomorrow. I can’t stay out too late.”
“Well, luckily, I’m not on sound tonight. We can leave now. I’ll have you in early. I promise.”
“Okay, let me go meet with my manager. I’ll meet you by the green room.”
“Okay. Damn, I still can’t believe it’s you,” Tray said, shaking his head in disbelief as he walked away.
Jamika reached her room where Agent Conner sat, with a pair of thongs over his head like a hat. “What in the hell? Give me my panties! Are you some kind of freak or something?”
“Of course,” Agent Conner said jokingly.
“Anyway, guess what?” Jamika asked.
“You ran into an old friend and you want to have dinner with him,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“Oh yeah,” Jamika said, patting her hair, remembering the bug that had been planted there earlier.
“He seems all right. You can go. Just make sure to keep the bug on so we can make sure that this guy isn’t up to anything.”
“All right. Can you turn around so I can change?” Jamika asked, trying to give Agent Conner a clue that she wanted privacy.
He liked to joke around with her, since they had become good friends. “Girl, you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.”
Jamika looked at him and rolled her eyes. “You ain’t never seen this before, so turn around.” Jamika changed into casual evening attire, as Agent Conner spoke to her with his back turned.
He started in his serious voice, “Things are going really slow with Daddy Dee. We’ve come up with another plan. My sis wants to work on a single with you. She wants you to sing a hook and some fill-ins over some rap lyrics. She’s bringing Daddy Dee in to do some beats. This will all start at the beginning of the month. The three of you are going to be spending some long days together. At this point, a full confession isn’t needed. We just need the slightest clue of him and the drug scheme. We’re working on a setup now, and we’ll let you know as it goes down.”
Will continued, “We�
�ve been following him, and the brother has been squeaky clean these past few months, we got to step it up a little.”
“I just hope we get him. I don’t want to go back to prison. I really don’t, Will,” Jamika said softly.
“Something will give, Mika. Just keep doing what you’re doing. You’ll be getting paid for this thing with Juicy. She wouldn’t have it any other way. If we do pull this thing off, you just might make it to stardom, after all.”
“Do you think so, Will?” Jamika asked, hopeful.
“I know so. There have been some really influential people in the music industry asking about you,” he said.
“You know, this has always been my dream, to be a singer. I love it more than life itself.”
“I know you do, Mika. Just remember that sometimes dreams do come true,” he said softly, yet sternly like he believed in her more than anyone else ever had. Jamika smiled at Agent Conner and realized more than ever, that he was really a good guy. He was human; he had feelings.
“Well, I better go meet Tray.”
Jamika walked to the door and opened it, she turned back to look at Agent Conner. He didn’t belong in the FBI. He was too honest and good of a brother, his heart was too warm, and he was damn sure too fine. “Yo Will,” she yelled out to him.
“Yeah.”
“Thank you.”
Jamika and Tray went to The Caves, an expensive, romantic restaurant near Ft. Lauderdale Beach. Each booth inside was secluded, just like a little cave, yet very comfortable. The waiters and waitresses dressed like cave men and women. Each cave was illuminated by a little lantern. The plates and silverware, although elegant, resembled dinnerware that could have been made years ago.
The conversation had started with the uniqueness of the restaurant, and the wine and entrées they would order. Then the reminiscing began. “So, how’s Ms. Peggy?” Jamika asked.
“She’s fine. She’s working as a nurse over at Beth Israel Hospital. I can’t believe you remembered my mother’s name,” Tray said, impressed.
“How could I forget; your mother did not play.”
“Yeah, your mom used to let us get away with a lot more. How is she, by the way?”
Jamika took a sip of the fine Chardonnay before answering. “She died about two years ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. If you don’t mind me asking, how did she die?” Jamika took another quick sip of the wine, and hated the direction in which the conversation was going. She thought about it, and came to the realization that she really didn’t know exactly how her mother had died. She knew that her mother had HIV and abused drugs, but no one had disclosed to her how Felise had actually died. “Actually, I do mind, Tray. It still bothers me.”
“I’m sorry. So who’s the lucky guy in your life?” Tray asked, effectively changing the subject.
“There isn’t one.”
“Come on, as good as you look? There has got to be a Mr. Lover somewhere.”
“No. I’ve been burned a few times, you know. My guard is way up.”
“I can understand that. You still have needs, though.”
“I have been celibate for almost two and a half years now. These hands are used in beautiful, creative ways. I love these hands.” They both laughed. The waiter arrived with their dinner salads and hot, freshly buttered rolls.
“So, what punk has you so hurt that you don’t want to enjoy the benefits of the touch of a man?” Tray asked.
“I’ve just been through a lot, that’s all. Enough about me, what about you?”
“A woman? No, I’m not ready for a woman at this point in my life. I’m still taking some classes and trying to get where I need to be,” Tray stated.
“I guess that’s understandable, you have to take care of number one first.”
“But, I would like to have a woman companion, a friend. You know, someone to talk to and have fun with, like we did when we were little.”
Remembering them as kids brought back good thoughts to Jamika. Thoughts of a simpler time. Times with no worries. Well, almost.
“Do you remember that night we snuck to drink beer and saw that lady get raped and beaten?” Jamika asked.
“How could I ever forget that? Do you know that lady went crazy after that?”
“No. damn, you never know what cards life is going to deal to you,” Jamika said. They both grew quiet at that comment, as if they were each looking into their own lives and evaluating it. The silence seemed so natural; it felt as if the fifteen-year separation hadn’t changed their bond.
Their main entrées arrived and finally, Tray spoke again. “I can’t believe we are sitting here together. I always wondered what happened to you. I thought I’d never see you ever again in life.”
“Well, I thought our friendship was special too; you see I still got that raggedy ass quarter after all these years.” They both laughed.
“Well, let’s not let this be the last time. Let’s hang out, see if we can be as good together in adulthood, as we were in childhood,” he said.
“I don’t know, in childhood you were always getting me into shit,” Jamika joked. “Yeah, I think back now, what the hell were we doing at that age all around crazy ass Newark?”
“My memories of Newark are limited, guess because I left so young. Raised here, this is home,” she said.
“You think your life would have been different if you’d stayed in Newark?”
“Well, my dialect maybe, but I tend to think most things in life are destined.”
They both grew quiet again as if examining their own destiny and the eerie coincidence of the two of them sitting there together having dinner, having found each other accidentally, as if somehow pulled together by a centrifugal force, after all of those years.
Chapter Nineteen
Jamika sat in the studio room of Juicylicious’s penthouse apartment and looked out over beautiful Miami Beach. Juicy was just as down to earth and fun as she was on her albums. Jamika felt honored to be in the studio with her.
Both of Juicy’s albums had gone triple platinum. The single that they would be working on would be the first released from her junior album.
Jamika was at the piano pecking notes and matching her voice to them, when Deonte, the man that she once fell in love with, entered. Juicy put down the pencil she had been scribbling lyrics with to greet him. “What up, Dee? Aye, this new song gon’ be hot. Oh yeah, this is Mink; you probably recognize her from some of the openings where your girls performed.”
“Oh yeah, she has a beautiful voice, good choice, Juice. Nice to meet you, Mink,” he said, extending his hand out to shake Jamika’s. “Well, we won’t need her today, will we? I mean, we’re just laying tracks and shit,” he said, noticeably uncomfortable.
“Yeah, but she’s new to this. I like her; I want her to see all the work this shit really takes. She’s a good writer too. She may have some input; you know?”
He hesitated for a second, then replied, “A-ight, it’s yo show. I brought over some tracks I’ve been working on. All Daddy Dee originals, so you know they hot.”
“Okay, let’s do this. You can play them over there,” Juicy said, pointing towards a computer amongst her recording equipment.
Daddy Dee took a compact disc from the case he’d been holding under his arm. The first track came alive through the computer’s speakers, as the trio listened closely. Jamika had an urge to pick up something and beat the hell out of him. But, she had strict orders to hang around, act natural, and work on the song. She’d begin setting him up for the big fall next week. This week was for trust building.
Today was a big day for her. She was sitting in a recording studio with two of the biggest icons in hip-hop. Juicy had promised Jamika a spot in the music video for the song, if she did not have to return to prison. Juicy was trying to get all the tracks out of Daddy Dee that she could, before he was taken down. She’d said previously that she wanted him to see how it felt to be used for his talent. Jamika knew that thos
e tracks were imperative to the success of Juicy’s junior album. Daddy Dee’s beats had undoubtedly helped her other two albums reach the plateau that they had.
She’d invited Tray over to her apartment later that night. She was going to cook, and they’d watch a good comedy or suspense movie. In the last month, they’d been hanging out together whenever Jamika had free time. They’d been out to nightclubs, hung out together on South Beach, watched movies, went shopping, played video arcades, and much more. They still hadn’t tired of one another.
Jamika loved Tray’s company. She didn’t feel any sexual pressure, or like she had to behave a certain way around him. She could be herself and everything was fine. She was looking forward to being with him later.
Two hours later, Juicy and Daddy Dee had decided on a base track, and were contemplating overlays in certain areas to add more flavor to the track. They were discussing how they’d lay additional echoes and sound effects tomorrow. The first day to Jamika had proved to be both stressful and unnerving.
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Jamika placed the plate of seafood she’d prepared in front of Tray. The lobster tail looked succulent, and the shrimp scampi and scallops complemented the meal wonderfully. She’d added soft, garlic bread, with a tangy white wine that tasted more expensive than it cost.
Tray looked at it, surprised. “You cook too?” he said teasing.
“I can do a little something,” Jamika said.
“This is more than just a little something. I mean, if this tastes like it looks, then I’m going to have to go ahead and make you my woman.”
“Shut up and eat, crazy,” Jamika said, being thankful that she was dark-skinned so he couldn’t see her blushing.
They ate together and Jamika could not help but notice that something seemed to be bothering Tray. He wasn’t talking much and normally he was very talkative. “Is everything all right with you, Tray?”
“Huh?” Tray asked very distractedly.
“Are you all right?” Jamika asked a second time.
“Oh…um…yeah…I’m tight.”