“Yeah. I’m ready.”
I KNEW THE RIDE OVER to my apartment would be awkward as fuck, but damn. I didn’t expect Kaz to ice me out. Five minutes ago, I was praying he wouldn’t bring up Riot. Now I wish he’d just get it over with and put me out of my misery.
“So…” I begin, just to break the silence.
“So.”
“I’m sure you must have questions.”
“Not really.”
“Seriously? Let’s not pretend that you told me that you were his boy and that you lived with him. And it’s not like I chose this assignment.”
“I literally just said that I didn’t have any questions,” Kaz states, his tone flat. “You don’t owe me anything, Rox.”
“This isn’t for you. It’s for me. I don’t want you or anyone else thinking something shady is going on. Riot and I were friends a long time ago. I haven’t seen or heard from him in twelve years. My editor sent me this assignment less than twenty-four hours ago, and I didn’t have the time to even process it, let alone find it necessary to explain to a random guy I met and hooked up with just last night.”
I regret the words as soon as they fly from my lips, I and would give my left tit to stuff them back into my mouth and choke down that embarrassing truth.
“Shit,” I curse. “I’m bugging. I’m hungover. I’m undercaffeinated. All this…this isn’t me. I can’t move in with Riot. I can barely stand to look at him for more than sixty seconds.”
“Bad breakup?”
I shrug. “I can’t really say that there was anything to break up. We weren’t together technically. Hell, maybe we weren’t even really friends.”
I don’t know why I’m spewing my guts to the guy that literally just saw me naked twelve hours ago. I don’t even know his last name. But I guess saying it out loud is helping to convince myself that I’m making the right decision. Even though my head and my heart are currently at odds. Can’t really tell which is winning.
“If you have such strong feelings about him, why play by his rules and move in? Hell, why even agree to the assignment?”
Because when he left, he took a part of me with him. And it’s time I take it back.
“Because I have bills to pay, and it’s a job. A damn good one at that. Riot’s right—every publication in the world is itching for this story. Ever since the…incident…he hasn’t said a peep to the press. Last night was his first public appearance in months. Have you checked Twitter? He had to have been trending five minutes after he stepped into that club. An opportunity to cover his comeback would be huge for my career.”
“So this is solely a career move?” He lifts a brow that feels like an accusation and peers over at me.
“What else would it be?”
We pull up to my apartment building before he has the chance to answer, and I’m more than grateful to be free from this car and this conversation.
“Do you mind waiting here while I run up and grab a few things?”
Kaz nods. “Take your time.”
I wish I could appreciate how good of a dude he has proven himself to be in such a short time, but all I can focus on is getting Bari on the phone as I race up to my apartment. He answers on the first ring, probably waiting for any and all details on my interview with Riot. This goes so far beyond a damn story, and the words tumble out of my mouth before I have a chance to rework them in my head.
“What the fuck, Bari? You could have warned me.”
“Huh? Warned you about what?”
I fumble with my keys, my shaky fingers struggling to fit them in the lock. Luckily, Haze yanks the door open. Her makeup is smeared, and she’s still wearing last night’s Freakum dress. She frowns, noticing my stern expression, prompting me to hold up a finger before putting the call on speaker.
“About the stipulations of the exclusive. Don’t you think it was important to inform me that I have to move in with him?”
Haze’s eyes grow three times in size and she animatedly mouths, What the fuck?
“Move in with Riot? That’s great! Holy shit, can you imagine what you’ll uncover?”
“Great? This is highly inappropriate. And an abuse of power on your part to agree to it on my behalf and without disclosing all the details.”
“Whoa, whoa. I didn’t agree to anything. I didn’t even know about it. Someone from his camp said that Riot was prepared to spend ample time with you to give you the full experience. He never mentioned that you’d be living with him. And look, Rox, I can understand that you have serious reservations, but you have to see what a unique opportunity this is for you, and for all of us here at The Seattle Tea. No member of the press has ever gotten that close to him, especially after that stunt earlier this year. And he’s chosen to let you in. That’s saying something. You must’ve really left a good impression this morning.”
I glance over at Haze whose mascara-rimmed eyes are nearly bulging from their sockets. Her mouth forms a distinctive O. I shake my head.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Bari.”
He sighs through the receiver but replies, “I understand, completely. And it would be morally repugnant for me to ask that of you. Would you like me to pass this on to Letitia?”
I’m already shaking my head before I answer. Haze follows it by mouthing Hell no! and waving her arms emphatically. It’s not that Letitia is a bad writer—she actually does great with the Celeb Gossip column, and it gets more hits than any other page on our site. And I know she would have had her bags packed to move in with Riot at the word Go. Not to mention, she’s tall and gorgeous and outgoing, and I’m sure she could get him to divulge his social security numbers and email password with just a flick of her wrist, which she’d be all too happy to air for the world to read.
For The Seattle Tea, she’d be the obvious choice. But for my old friend…for the boy who moved next door and turned my world on its axis…I can’t let her have him. I can’t throw him to the wolves just because I’m too chicken shit to face him and our past. No one on this earth would treat him with the same grace and care as I would, even now. Even after all the hurt and betrayal. I could never forgive myself if his story was told by someone who didn’t know him…who didn’t once love him.
“No. I’ll do it. I’ll move in with him.” My words are firmly planted in certainty, but my voice is weak. I’ve just agreed to the unthinkable. Even Haze is covering her mouth with shock.
“Excellent,” Bari sighs with relief. “I’ll be sure you’re compensated for the inconvenience. I know you didn’t sign up for this, but it’s appreciated all the same. I’m telling you, this story is going to make your career, Rox. Just you wait.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
We hang up, and I face my oldest friend. I know it’s coming. She wants to screech so badly she’s about to bite a hole through her damn lip.
“You’re moving in with Riot? Oh my God. Oh my GOD! Rox, this shit is insane! Holy fuck, I don’t know if I should be scared or jealous!”
“Jealous? Why would you be jealous?” I frown.
“Because can you imagine his house? The parties? Shit…the men? I bet he has some hot friends.”
Oh, how right she is.
“Yeah, about that…Kaz is his boy or assistant or butler, I don’t know. So I’m guessing Dane is somehow connected to Riot, as well.”
“What?” Her eyes grow twice in size and the silly grin on her face is bordering on maniacal. “I slept with a member of Riot Blu’s entourage? This day just keeps getting better!”
“You’re not the only one,” I mumble, turning towards my room to pack. Of course, she catches each word.
“Excuse me, Miss I-don’t-fuck-on-the-first-date? Are you telling me you unlocked that rusty ass chastity belt and let Kaz get in them guts?”
“Um…” You’d think me turning my back on her and basically throwing myself into my closet would be a big enough indication that I don’t want to talk about it but, as always, Haze will not be deterred. “Uh, yeah. Sort
a.”
“You sorta what? Sorta let him snatch them granny panties off your frigid ass and play hide the salami?”
My face flames red hot. “Uh, yeah. And I do not wear granny panties!” I exclaim, chucking a bra from the floor of my closet at her. She catches it before it smacks her in the face.
“Thief! I’ve been looking for this.”
“Only because it’s two cup sizes too small for you and makes your boobs look enormous.”
“Oh yeah. Totally taking this back.”
She peers over at me trying to shove everything I own into an old suitcase that I’ve probably owned since middle school. My hair is a frizzy mess, I’m sweating off what little makeup I was able to slap on, and I swear I can feel pit stains forming under my arms. I’m literally and figuratively a hot mess.
“You okay, girl?”
“I’m freaking out, Haze,” I admit, my voice quivering. “The biggest story of my life rests in Riot Blu’s hands, and I have to live in his home to get it. And I’ve never even lived with a man before! This is by far the dumbest decision I have ever made, and I don’t see any way I can get out of it without tanking my career.”
She ditches the bra and crosses the room to face me, taking the rumpled garments from my arms and throwing them on the bed. Then she grasps my shoulders gently, forcing me to focus on her lovely face.
“Rox Lee, you are the fiercest, most fabulous human I have ever known,” she says with so much conviction that I almost believe her. “And if anyone can tackle the twisted world of Riot Blu, it’s you. He took something from you, and you’ve been trying like hell all these years to get it back. Well…now’s your chance, babe. You got this. And I…” She motions towards the pile of clothes on the bed and the tragic mess that is my suitcase. “I’ve got this.”
Over the next fifteen minutes, my bags are packed with items I’m actually going to wear and need, face is washed, makeup is refreshed, and my mane is tamed. I swear, Haze may be loud, audacious, and sometimes, obnoxious, but she can work a miracle under pressure. All I managed to do was reapply deodorant.
“He’s not going to have you locked up in some sex dungeon, is he?” Haze asks as she walks me down to the ground floor with my bags.
“Not unless he wants to lose his life.”
“Ok, just checking. Because I saw those freaky ass movies. I know what goes down in Seattle penthouse apartments. About to have you turned all the way out! Okurrr!”
I roll my eyes and chuckle at her embarrassing Cardi B impression, despite the unnerving thought of Riot tying me up in some red den of sin. He may have lost his damn mind on television, but he’s got enough sense to keep his hands to himself unless he wants to draw back a nub.
We say our goodbyes at the building entrance, and I almost get a little misty-eyed. But the moment is short-lived because as soon as Kaz spies us, he rushes over to help with my bags.
“Aw, shit,” Haze whispers as he approaches. “Looks like someone came back for round two. I always knew you had it in you, girl!”
“Will you hush? He drove me here. I told you, he helps out Riot.”
“So what is he, like, his Alfred?”
I only have a second to shake my head before Kaz is right in front of us, taking my luggage without a second thought. Once again, he proves that chivalry isn’t dead.
“Good to see you again, Haze,” he says, greeting my roommate before turning to me. “You have anything else you want to grab?”
“I think I’m good.”
After he leaves us to load my bags, I can almost feel Haze’s eyes staring a hole through the back of my head.
I sigh. “Just say it.”
“Who said I have something to say?”
“You’re damn near swallowing your tongue. Just spit it out.”
“I’m just wondering if I should have packed you a baseball mitt to catch all that dick that’ll be flying your way.”
I turn to face her. “What are you even talking about?”
“You’re going to be living with Riot—your first love. And your new boo will be hanging around. Hell, does he live there, too?”
“No! Well, not exactly. He lives in a different apartment in the building.”
“So you’ll just be an elevator ride away from riding that—”
“All set?”
We both spin around to find Kaz waiting on the curb. Shit, I have no idea how much he heard, and I don’t want to know.
“Yeah. Sure. Ready as I’ll ever be.”
The ride back to Riot’s isn’t nearly as awkward as before, although I’m growing more and more anxious with every block we gain. I have no idea what to expect. Kaz said the crew was arriving soon. Riot’s entourage? I don’t know what kind of people he’s kicking it with these days, and if the rumors are true, I expect a lot of weed smoke, a lot of booze, and a lot of half-naked eye candy prancing around. I look down at my modest chambray shirtdress and tan flat sandals. Shit, I should have changed.
When we arrive at the building, Harold, the doorman from earlier, shoots me a knowing grin at seeing my luggage. I simply smile back, too embarrassed to say much else.
“Hey, Harold. Ms. Lee is going to be staying with Mr. Blu for some time. Can you make sure she’s listed as a designated resident and has all the keys and access codes for the building?”
Harold agrees, and we bid him goodbye. I know Riot just moved in, but I have to wonder how many women have passed these doors to spend time with Mr. Blu. And how many have access to the star when he’s tried to keep his presence here a secret?
By the time we make it up to the top floor, I’m a ball of nerves. However, there is no relief in sight for me. Not now. Not for a while.
The moment I step into the foyer, I see exactly who and what the crew is.
Cameras. Mics. Lights. Monitors. And a small handful of guys wearing headsets.
There’s a film crew here, and currently, they’re focused on me.
Oh hell no.
Thirty minutes ago, I was still on the fence about moving in with Riot to write his comeback story. And just as I resigned myself to the thought of being in his life and his world after all these years, I’ve been thrust into the vicious realm of reality TV.
“GET THAT CAMERA OUT HER face, man.”
Kaz steps in front of me defensively, prompting the cameraman to stumble back. Riot appears seconds later, his brow furrowed. He’s still wearing the joggers from earlier, although he’s slipped on a white tank to cover his muscled chest, thank God. A long chain adorns his neck, and he has rings on at least five fingers, along with leather bands on his wrists. His hair has dried, and his golden locks are styled in sexy, tousled layers. I hate to admit it, even to myself, but Riot is a work of art.
He looks to Kaz, who could probably turn the film crew to stone with his furious expression, then to me.
“You okay?”
I nod, moving around Kaz. I don’t need Riot getting the wrong impression, not that it’s any of his business. “Yeah. What’s going on here?”
“Shit.” He looks back at the cameraman and waves him away. Somehow that’s also Kaz’s signal because he grabs my bags and stalks into the apartment without a word. “My label arranged to shoot a documentary to highlight the tenth anniversary of my first album. My bad. I thought you knew.”
“I didn’t. That detail must’ve slipped through the cracks along with the moving-in stipulation.”
He has the nerve to look apologetic, and I almost want to believe he is, but the moment is short-lived when a man in a gray, shiny suit and equally shiny hair approaches. He’s attractive, average height, late 30s-early 40s. Definitely an industry guy, I’m guessing PR or A&R. Maybe even his manager.
“You must be the reporter, Roxanne,” he says, extending his hand.
“Rox,” I clarify, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.
“This is my manager, Jonas,” Riot explains. I give myself a mental fist bump.
“It’s good to meet
you, Rox. I’d love to chat with you before you get settled in. Just some brief formalities and a bit of paperwork.”
“Paperwork?”
“Just a simple release form for the documentary. Contracts, NDAs,” he prattles casually, ushering me into the apartment. “You know, boring stuff.”
I snort inwardly and follow the slick-talking manager to the sleek, modern kitchen and take a stool at the dark marble-top island. There are half a dozen forms already waiting for me and a single Montblanc pen beside them. I’ve been around long enough to know there is nothing boring, nor simple, about them. Riot takes the stool beside me yet doesn’t say a word. He almost looks embarrassed.
“The short and skinny is that we just need your word that you won’t share or speak about the documentary, his album, or Riot’s personal affairs including his home address, phone number, etcetera, romantic encounters, etcetera.”
“Well, I am writing a story on him. How am I supposed to give readers a glimpse into his world if I can’t speak on it?”
“There are exceptions. See?” He points to a numbered line that outlines all the stuff I can speak about. Basically, he wants me to write a fluff piece. I shake my head.
“I want her to have creative license with this, Jonas,” Riot chimes in. “The whole world thinks they know me. They think what they see online and in magazines is who I am. And when I fall short…when I show them something different from what they’ve known all these years, they’re quick to condemn me when they never knew shit about me. Let them see who I am. And no one can show them that better than Rox.”
He looks to me, and I’m nearly lightheaded from my sharp intake of breath. Jonas, on the other hand, is less than marveled.
“Everything is negotiable.”
Riot turns to his manager and the baby blue in his eyes shifts to sapphire. “This isn’t.”
Jonas has been in the biz long enough to know you don’t piss off the talent, especially when said talent is lining his pockets with enough dough for him to fill his closet with wall-to-wall shiny suits. And whether he’s granting wishes for terminally ill children or punching out producers, Riot Blu is a sure sell.
Rhythm and Blu Page 4