by Deja King
My heart dropped as T-Roc extended his hand. “Tyler, that’s a pretty name for a very pretty girl.” The same words he used the very first time he introduced himself to me.
“Thank you,” I said dryly.
“You’re a lucky man, Ian. How long have you been together?” Ian glanced at me, but I wasn’t saying a word.
“A couple of months, but it seems longer. I think she’s the one.” Ian beamed. T-Roc was undressing me right before his cousin’s eyes, but Ian was oblivious.
“Ian, I need to go to the restroom.”
“Do you want me to show you where it is?”
“No, I can find it.” I darted off before letting either one of them speak another word to me. This was too much. I found the bathroom, shut the door, and sat on top of the toilet, overwhelmed by the turn of events. Should I tell Ian that I slept with his cousin or will T-Roc tell him? Maybe I should just keep it to myself? Maybe T-Roc will? But the way he ogled me, like we shared some sordid secret…I gulped down the two glasses of champagne I had picked up on my way to the bathroom. Then I inspected myself in the mirror. I applied fresh lip gloss, fixed my hair, and adjusted my dress, prepared to go back to Ian like nothing was wrong. But when I opened the door, T-Roc pushed me back inside and locked the door.
“What are you doing?” I protested. T-Roc put his finger to my lips.
“Shh, there is no need to get upset,” T-Roc managed to say in a cool, calm voice. “First me, now my cousin; you’re turning this into a real family affair, Tyler.”
“I didn’t know he was your cousin, and if I had…” My words faded.
“What? You wouldn’t have fucked with him? I seriously doubt that. The two of you seem very much in love, but then from our past encounter I can tell what type of woman you are, and you’re not capable of love.”
“You don’t even know me; you have no idea how I feel about Ian.”
“A great part of my success is attributed to my gift of interpreting people from limited time spent with them. My diagnosis of you is that you’re an ice princess.”
“I don’t give a damn what you think of me.”
“Maybe, but I’m sure Ian may feel differently.”
“What do you want from me, T-Roc?”
“I want us to pick up where we left off.” T-Roc stared into my eyes and when his lips touched mine, my body became weak and I gave in to him. I couldn’t deny my attraction for T-Roc; he had this powerful aura that almost put me in a hypnotic trance. His hands glided up my dress, and he slid my panties to the side as his finger easily slithered inside me. I moaned as he kissed my neck and then my breast. In what seemed like one quick motion he lifted me up on the sink, raised my dress, and scooted my body forward so he could taste all of me. Right when I was about to reach my climax, T-Roc stopped. Handing me his business card, he said, “You better call me tomorrow no later than two o’clock, or I’ll be having a heart-to-heart with my cousin about his new girlfriend.”
“I can’t. I’ll be with Ian tomorrow.”
“Well, you better get creative.” T-Roc exited the bathroom, leaving me to wonder how I got myself in this predicament.
I woke up spooned against Ian, dreading the rest of my day before it had even started. I tossed and turned all night due to T-Roc’s face flashing through my mind. It was too late to come clean with Ian about my past encounter with T-Roc, especially after our bathroom episode. But at the same time I wasn’t going to let T-Roc dangle our relationship over my head. I had to settle this situation with T-Roc once and for all, which meant I needed to get home and get my mind right before my two-o’clock phone call. Right when I was about to slide out of bed, Ian’s erect penis was rubbing against my butt, meaning it was time for his morning fix. As I slowly moved out of the bed, Ian grabbed me, pulling me toward him. “Where you think you’re going?”
“Baby, I have a million things to do this morning. I have to get home.”
“What? You better get your pretty ass back in this bed.” I fell back in Ian’s arms, giving him an impetuous kiss before jumping out of the bed.
“Ian, you know I have finals this week; please don’t give me a hard time.” Finals were actually the following week, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Damn, I have a photo shoot for my Reebok ad, and I wanted you to come with me.”
“How about I call you after my final and I’ll meet you there. Is that cool?”
“Yeah, that works, but you better come.”
“I will; I promise.”
On the way home I sat in a cab replaying exactly what I planned to say to T-Roc. There was no way I was going to let him ruin my relationship with Ian. He was the best thing to happen to me in so long, and T-Roc wasn’t going to suck me into whatever sick game he was trying to play. By the time the cab pulled up in front of my building, I had my T-Roc speech all worked out.
I paced back and forth in my living room as the clock ticked closer to two. I knew T-Roc said to call him by two, but I figured if I called him closer to the cutoff time, then maybe he wouldn’t know how shook he had me. I took a deep breath before picking up the cordless phone and dialed his number. The phone rang once, then twice. “Hello,” a distinct voice said.
“Hi, can I speak to T-Roc?” I asked, although I knew it was him on the phone.
“Speaking. Who’s this?”
“Tyler.”
“Right at two. I’m sure you purposely pushed the time.”
“No, I just walked in the house.”
“Whatever you say, Tyler.” His confidence aggravated the hell out of me. I wanted this conversation over with so I could forget I ever had a crush on a man named T-Roc.
“Listen, I’m gonna make this quick because I have somewhere I need to be. Last night was a big mistake. I had a few glasses of champagne, which made my thinking skills zero. As far as what took place a few months ago, it is in the past and that is where it should stay.” There was a long silence before T-Roc spoke.
“Tyler, you’re right, and I apologize for putting you in an uncomfortable predicament,” T-Roc said with what seemed like genuine sincerity.
“Does that mean you won’t be telling Ian about our connection?”
“Is that what you think we have? A connection?”
“You know what I mean,” I said, becoming flustered.
“If you’re asking me if I’ll keep our past relationship a secret from Ian, the answer is yes.”
“Thank you; I have to go now.” I hung up the phone before T-Roc could lure me in. It blew my mind how cooperative he was. How obliging he was confused me, and it had me on edge. The ring of my cell phone jarred me from my thoughts. It was Ian, and I scurried to pick up. Before I got a word out, Ian belted, “Where the fuck are you? Why aren’t you here yet?”
I stuttered trying to explain myself. “I’m so sorry; I’m coming right now.” It was almost three, and I had told Ian I would meet him no later than two thirty. He hated waiting, especially for me.
The traffic was terrible getting to the East Side, and by the time I arrived, Ian was standing in front of his limo talking to an older white guy in a business suit. I waited until they finished before walking up to him. “Hi, baby. Sorry I’m so late.” Ian strong-armed me in the car and slammed the door.
“Where the fuck was you at?” Before he let me answer, he smacked me in the face. My hands went up in defense mode because he looked like he was about to strike again.
“Ian, don’t.” I sighed, feeling perplexed because the driver was surveying us from the front seat. Ian was too preoccupied scolding me to notice, or he just didn’t care.
“How you gon have me waitin’ for you? When I tell you to be somewhere, that’s where you be, do you understand?” I didn’t answer right away, and Ian shouted again. “I said, Do you understand?”
In a soft, lost tone I said, “Yes.”
Ian leaned back and put his head down as though I had ruined his day. For the rest of the car ride and even when we shopped in Jeffrey, he didn�
�t say two words to me. The silence was driving me nuts, and I’d become so desperate for his approval that I blurted out, “I’ll never disappoint you again. Whatever you want, that’s what I’ll do.”
“You promise,” Ian commanded.
“I promise.” With my pledge of assurance Ian tongued me down with a wet kiss and led my head to his hardness. I pleasured him for the duration of our ride, believing that I had earned his love again.
The next morning Ian left, and I missed him immediately. Luckily school was almost over and I could spend the summer with him. Until then, studying was my number one priority. While listening to my answering-machine messages, I was surprised to hear my agent saying there was an emergency and please call him back. We hadn’t spoken since I went through my rapper phase, and I was curious about the urgency. I replayed the message one more time before dialing his number. “Hi, Chris; it’s me, Tyler.”
“Tyler, Tyler, Tyler, sweetie, I’ve been trying to track you down.” Chris’s usual grumpy voice was upbeat and friendly.
“Yeah, I got your message. What’s so urgent?” I asked with suspicion in my voice.
“I got a call today from a guy who’s the VP of the new female clothing line, Be Me. Some photographer hired to shoot the ad campaign saw you on that video you did for LaFamilia Records and thought you’d be perfect. He presented the idea to the owner, and she loved it.”
“So are you saying I got an ad campaign for a clothing line?” I didn’t believe it was true.
“Exactly. The shoot starts first thing tomorrow morning. The ad will consist of you and two other women, but you’ll be the lead. Isn’t this fantastic? I’m negotiating for top dollar.”
“But, Chris, I’m no model. I’m an actress.”
“Actress, smactress. Who gives a fuck? It’s money. They want you. They’re paying you, so let’s do it. I’ll call you in an hour with the details. Congratulations, Tyler.” I had to put this whole situation on odd, or maybe I was just lucky. But then I always thought luck was for people who served the devil and that blessings came from God. So was this a blessing?
Early in the morning a car service was waiting to take me to a studio in SoHo. When I arrived the atmosphere was chaotic, and Marvin Gaye’s greatest hits were blaring from the speakers. There were a couple of other models—the two Chris spoke of— some executive types, and Sasha McIntire, the owner of Be Me clothes. She was some ex-supermodel-turned-designer. She had had great success with a lingerie line and was now branching off into women’s clothing, shoes, and accessories. Sasha pranced toward me as though on the catwalk. “Hi, you must be Tyler. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said in a fake Hollywood tone. The epitome of overindulgence at its finest, she had enough bling to put Fred Leighton out of business.
“Thank you. I appreciate the opportunity to be included in your ad campaign.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re gorgeous, and that body of yours will look perfect in my designs.”
“Thanks.”
“Follow me over here so I can choose your first outfit for the shoot.” Sasha picked out some tiny pale-pink satin shorts— which no one but Chrissie would have the balls to wear in public—with a matching white and pale-pink tube top. Thank goodness I had nothing for breakfast, because a dry piece of toast would have added ten pounds in this getup. While I was pulling my outfit, Sasha formally introduced me to Brianna and Sierra. Brianna was a tall Brazilian-looking chick, and Sierra was a mix of Asian and black. Both women were tall and gorgeous, and I still wondered how I fit in this mix.
During the shoot, the photographer placed me in the center and put the other girls behind me, like Kelly and Michelle in Destiny’s Child. I felt like I was Beyoncé and they were the step-sisters. During a break, Sierra and I were in the middle of idle chatter when I noticed Sasha and Brianna kissing in the corner.
“Isn’t Sasha engaged to some big-time movie honcho?” Sierra was now viewing the spectacle that warranted my comment.
“Oh, she’s bisexual, but so is her fiancé. They’re swingers, so they’ll have the perfect marriage.” Sierra responded like this was normal, acceptable behavior.
“Oh, okay, whatever works for them.”
We worked from 8:30 a.m. to 8:30 p.m. until the last picture snapped and it was a wrap. It was hard, but it was the easiest work I’d ever done for the amount of money they were paying me. Plus the exposure would be priceless. Maybe Sasha’s husband would see the pictures and think I was perfect for a role. I put my street clothes back on, said good-bye to Brianna and Sierra and the rest of the crew, and darted downstairs. That whole scene wasn’t for me. They had basically turned the studio into a club. Everyone was drinking champagne and snorting coke. I had no problem with the bubbly, but I stopped short of fucking with the white girl. I exited the building feeling a warm spring breeze, and a silver Bentley Azure was parked in the spot I assumed the Town Car would be in. The driver stepped out and opened the back door, and there was T-Roc. “Tyler, get in the car.” I scanned the area seeing where I could run for cover, but the street was isolated and deserted. With hesitation I got in the car, and the door slammed behind me.
“How was your shoot today?” T-Roc asked.
“Who told you about that?”
“You’re not that naive, are you, Tyler?”
“Ian?” I asked, looking puzzled. Last night I called Ian excited about the gig; of course he didn’t share in my enthusiasm, but why would he tell T-Roc? But how else would he know? The answer dawned on me when T-Roc said, “I wanted to give you something that would make you happy.”
“No, you want me to owe you.”
“I already have that. This was just a gift to you.”
“How in the hell did you maneuver that? Did you beg Sasha for a favor?”
“I don’t beg for anything. I’m a silent partner. I own fifty percent of the company. But you’re a beautiful girl, Tyler, and once I showed Sasha your picture, she had no problem hiring you for the job. See, it’s all about who you know.”
“Why? Why did you do this?” I was confused by T-Roc’s actions. I looked at him inquisitively, searching for the answers.
“Because I can, and I want you. The best way to win a woman over is to give her what she wants the most. You want to be a star, and I can make that happen for you.”
“T-Roc, I’m in love with Ian, your cousin,” I said sarcastically, because he seemed to have forgotten.
T-Roc chuckled slightly. “Tyler, you’re not in love with anyone, and I doubt you ever have been. But what I can give you is a whole lot better than love anyway, and it will last.”
“Forget it; I don’t want any part of it.”
“Have it your way,” T-Roc said nonchalantly.
“I guess that means you’re scrapping me from the Be Me ads.”
“Tyler, like I said before, you’re perfect for that ad. I only gave you an opportunity that most people never get because they don’t have the necessary relationships. But you do; we’re family. Well, here we are.” I peered out the window, and we were in front of my apartment building. I had moved since first meeting Jason and I wondered how T-Roc had my new address; but then again T-Roc probably knew everything.
“Thanks for the ride and the modeling job,” I said, feeling a twinge of gratitude. T-Roc just nodded his head not speaking a word. That night before I went to bed I spoke to Ian for about an hour, but T-Roc was the one on my mind. His actions were confusing to me, and I couldn’t seem to figure him out. He honestly couldn’t believe I would leave Ian and run into his arms because he got me a modeling job? It was so obvious his motives were insincere. Still, what he did worked because he was the one I fell asleep thinking about.
After my final exams, I took a break to spend some time with Ian. His dream house was completed, and he was living in a fabulous mansion on acres of land with its very own lake. His home was truly spectacular, and Ian knew it. He especially loved the custom-made Steinway grand piano that stood in front of his living-r
oom window, which had a view of the lake. He said playing soothed his mind. Unfortunately it didn’t soothe him enough, and the visit turned out to be another volatile encounter.
Ian was pissed that I’d gotten the modeling job and still wanted to pursue a career in the entertainment industry. On several occasions we discussed me transferring to a college in the Detroit area so we could be together year-round. But I had bigger ambitions than being some basketball player’s girlfriend or wife. Having a successful career would give me the sense of purpose and direction I longed for. Being with Ian was a one-sided relationship that was becoming increasingly annoying.
One evening we had dinner with one of Ian’s teammates and his girlfriend at the Whitney. In the middle of relishing my chocolate-glazed bombe, the conversation turned bothersome. Ian boasted, “No matter how bad a man fucks up, the woman is suppose to stand by his side and hold her position. The man is the leader. The sooner women understand that, the more content they’ll be.”
“You sound like a complete male chauvinist,” I said.
“Get over yourself, Tyler. You know who controls this relationship.” Ian gave his rookie teammate a pound. The wet-behind-the-ear rookie obviously idolized Ian and would agree with anything he said. I stared at the rookie’s girlfriend to get a read on what she thought, but the sexy Spanish girl sat there with a blank expression.
“So my opinion doesn’t matter?”
“Basically.” Ian laughed, still showing off in front of his rookie flunky. Was this my life, trailing behind an arrogant, over-paid, egotistical maniac?
After dinner we said our good-byes to the empty couple and headed to the car. Once inside, Ian exploded. “Don’t you ever question what I say in front of nobody!”
“Ian, you were being a complete asshole in there.”
“You better watch your mouth, or you’ll be footin’ it back home.”
“How can you talk to me like that, like I’m nothing?”
“Don’t get all sentimental with me; you know what time it is. Everything you got on I paid for. That rock on your finger, I just bought that. The new apartment you’re living in, I pay the rent. You were a struggling student when I met you; now you don’t want for nothing. So if that means you better keep your mouth shut when I say something you don’t like, then that’s what you do.”