by Deja King
“I’m so glad you made it,” Chrissie beamed. “With your new Brooklyn zip code, I had my doubts you would get here on time.” Chrissie was still giving me a hard time about living in Brooklyn, but I was actually cozying up to the quaint, culturally inclined area.
“I’m not coming from the jungle, Chrissie. It’s Brooklyn.”
“Whatever. Follow me. I want you to meet Cynthia White.” That name sounded familiar, but the face and the name weren’t clicking.
“Mrs. White, this is Tyler Blake. Tyler, this is the one and only Cynthia White.”
Cynthia White was absolutely beautiful. Her caramel complexion and short auburn hair put you in mind of an older Halle Berry. She had great style and carried herself with the highest of class. And although she appeared to be nothing but a complete lady, you could also tell she was a woman not to be taken lightly. She knew how to handle herself and didn’t tolerate people trying to get over on her in any way. After taking in her beauty, I quickly realized exactly whose mother she was, and I wanted to wring Chrissie’s neck. Cynthia White was T-Roc’s mother.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. White.”
“Why, thank you. You’re a very beautiful young woman, and Chrissie tells me you’re smart too.”
“You’re making me blush.”
“You have nothing to blush about. When someone pays you a compliment, simply straighten your back, poke out your ample chest, and say, ‘I know,’ ” she teased.
We all burst out in laughter simultaneously. Mrs. White and I talked for two more hours, as though we had known each other for years. We had an instant connection, but I was apprehensive about getting involved in the project because of T-Roc. He would no doubt hit the roof. To say T-Roc was displeased after I cut him off would be an understatement. At this point in his career he definitely got little or no rejection. But something about Cynthia White was positively endearing. I knew we were supposed to be in each other’s lives for a reason. Despite the success of her son, she didn’t want to ride his coattails; instead she wanted to make her own success. She was smart and savvy enough to do just that, and it made me admire her that much more. I could see where her son got his drive from. I decided to take on the project and assist Mrs. White with her new business venture.
Later that night lying in bed with Brian, I began discussing my new career plans.
“I met with Chrissie today, and she wants me to work with her at a new styling company.”
“That sounds dope. You have great style, and Chrissie has that whole Sex and the City vibe going. Whose company is it?”
“Cynthia White’s.”
“I know you didn’t just say what I think you said?” Brian snapped.
“Baby, I was taken aback at first too, but working with Mrs. White has nothing to do with T-Roc. I’ll probably never even run into him.”
“Now you’re reaching. You need to worry if she’s a crook like her son.”
“Please. Mrs. White is definitely nothing like T-Roc.”
“Okay,” Brian said sarcastically, “but he learned his cutthroat business tactics from somebody. I’m sure the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. How ’bout this… instead of working for Cynthia White, you start your own company.”
“What?”
“Yeah, you can do it. I’ll fund everything. You said Chrissie was working at some big-time publicity company, and you’re going to school for journalism. That’s a perfect combination. You all can start your own publicity company.”
“Brian, I don’t have a clue how to run a business.”
“I’ll have my business manager oversee everything for you and Chrissie. All you have to do is concentrate on getting clients.”
“But I have school, and this all sounds so rushed and crazy.”
“Listen, you can still go to school and work part-time while Chrissie is there full-time.”
“I don’t know, Brian. Would it bother you that much for me to work with Mrs. White?”
“Yes, it would,” Brian said sternly.
I knew Brian wasn’t offering me this company because he believed in me or even wanted me to have success. To him it was worth investing thousands of dollars just to have power over the situation and not let me work with Mrs. White. That was just one of many telltale signs of the extent Brian would go to to make sure he controlled everything in my life.
I spoke to Chrissie, and she was psyched with the whole idea. We both still had an interest in Mrs. White’s company, particularly me with my budding friendship with Mrs. White. I was caught up in the excitement of starting a new company and in my relationship with Brian. Although it seemed like we had been together for years, it had only been a few months. But with all the commotion, I wasn’t paying attention to the warning signs in our relationship.
For example, after I’d declined to move in with Brian, we both looked for our own place. Either he was at my crib or I was in the studio with him all night, so it hadn’t dawned on me that I had never been to his new place. Although we were together constantly, something wasn’t quite right, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Initially I wasn’t sure if things were going to last between Brian and me, so I wasn’t asking myself questions that should’ve been addressed a lot earlier. Secretly I wasn’t a hundred percent sure I wouldn’t go back to Ian. As bizarre as that sounded, a part of me didn’t feel Ian and I had had our last dance. But now that my relationship with Brian was becoming more serious, I wanted the answers to the questions floating around in my mind.
Sometimes you get so caught up that you don’t focus on evidence that is staring you in the face. But I did what I rationalized as a thorough investigation by dotting my i’s and crossing my t’s. I spoke to a few of my industry associates about Brian, asking them to find out if he was dating anybody, had any kids, or was on the down low. I know sometimes men get selective amnesia, and forget to give the make-it or break-it information. But Brian’s report came back positive. His record was very clean indeed.
With the help of Brian’s business manager, Chrissie and I got our new publicity company up and popping in no time. We named it Girl Power PR. For the first few months a lot of money was being spent but no money was coming in. Chrissie was pretty much carrying the company solo, because between school and being with Brian, I barely had time for anything else. Eventually we landed our first client, a female R&B singer who had the number ten song on the Billboard charts—with a bullet.
Just when business was picking up, Brian had to go to upstate New York for a few months to work on tracks for several artist projects, and he wanted me to come along. Of course I wanted to be with him, but I also had school and a new business to help run. But Brian didn’t care. In fact, he said, “That company—I pay for it. So that means I pay your salary. You’ll get a check regardless. As far as school goes, you can always go back. I need you with me, so get your shit together and let’s go.”
Because my heart wasn’t really into Girl Power PR, it was easy for me to go. And as for school, my first year at NYU was fun only because Chrissie was there. After she graduated, I never really enjoyed it.
Off to upstate New York we went. We stayed in the mountains where the homes looked like cabins, but they weren’t. It was a warm and cozy atmosphere. There were tons of artists there, including. Nas, 50 Cent, and some new female group called Divas. The list went on and on. Brian’s plan was to complete all their needed tracks within his four-month stay. He had me in his back pocket, so we were around each other 24/7. Playing house made us grow even closer. I would wait on him like we were husband and wife, and during this period I began to love him deeply. Our relationship grew beyond the mind-blowing sex to an elevated level of respect and praise. Brian was a man who had come from almost nothing and had to work for everything he had. When you meet a man like that, you have to admire the grind work he put forth in order to accomplish what he has in life. But some men who go through that kind of struggle become selfish and never learn how to truly take ple
asure in life and enjoy their success.
After being in the mountains for several weeks I would go home for a couple of days. I still didn’t know where home was for Brian and whether his information was on the up-and-up. So when he was dropping me off at home, I asked, “Brian, where exactly is home for you?” I gazed intently in his eyes, searching to see if his answer was the truth.
Without skipping a beat, he calmly said, “I’ve been staying with my business manager, Greg. You know he recently purchased a huge house in Jersey, and I’m staying with him until our house is finished.”
“Why don’t you just get an apartment?”
“That’s a waste of money. Greg has plenty of space, and most of the time I’m at your place anyway. And we’re upstate for the next few months. What’s the point? You’re the one who said you weren’t ready to live together. I figured we’d test the waters up-state, and by the time we’re done there, you’ll be ready to make it official.” That was the line Brian used on me, and that was the line I ran with and fell for.
A few weeks later it was Valentine’s Day, and we were back in New York. I stopped by the office to read some pitch letters Chrissie wanted me to take a look at. Brian was on his way. I figured he would take me to a fancy restaurant and surprise me with a nice little trinket or something. But he showed up with some roses, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and then said, “Baby, I can’t stay long. I have to go back to the mountains and finish a track for an artist.”
I surveyed him with daggers in my eyes. “Motherfucker, you can’t be serious. Because if you are, take your bullshit roses and shove them up your ass.”
“Yo, what the fuck is all that about?”
“You must think I’m crazy. It’s Valentine’s Day, and you have to rush outta here to work on some tracks? What… you fucking your track now? That’s how you’re getting your shit off?”
“You’re seriously bugging right now. I swear I have to get this track done for this cat. I’m behind schedule. Don’t you think I want to be with you?”
“So why can’t I come with you?”
“Tyler, I’m coming back tomorrow. Anyway you told me you have to meet with Chrissie tomorrow to get some shit done.”
“Whatever, nigga, your shit is stinking right now. You step in this office with some half-assed roses and some bullshit excuses. I don’t know what the fuck is jumping off, but something is wrong. And if it isn’t, I can’t be bothered with someone as unromantic as you.”
I stormed out of the building, and as I walked down the street Brian followed me in his car, pleading his case. There was nothing to discuss. I will let other days slide for someone who is not used to being romantic. But when it comes to Valentine’s Day— a day that is stamped on a calendar to be imprinted in every man’s head to get on top of his game—and my man comes with some roses and a good-bye speech…fuck him!
I went home. I was done with Brian. This shit was for the birds. Not being one to sulk in misery, I picked up the phone and dialed Ian’s number, hoping it hadn’t changed. I needed to hear a familiar voice and speak to someone who could take my mind off the roller coaster ride I just got off of.
“Hello,” Ian answered, and I instantly felt relieved to hear his voice.
“Hi, it’s me, Tyler,” I said, not sure of the comeback I would get.
“Tyler! I can’t believe you called me. I’m actually here in town for a game. I would love to see you.”
“Ditto.”
“Give me your address; I’ll come get you. We can have dinner and talk about what’s been going on in our lives.”
“Perfect; that’s exactly what I need.”
An hour later Ian picked me up in a stretch limo, and yeah, he had those same tired red roses (but a lot more of them) that I had tossed back at Brian. But it was ten o’clock at night and he had no idea he was going to see me until the very last minute. Plus Ian had shown me his generous gift-giving side in the past, so that was never an issue. When I stepped in the limo and saw Ian’s face, he was as handsome as ever, but there were no butterflies like I felt with Brian.
“Tyler, you look beautiful. Give me a hug; I missed you.” When I hugged Ian his smell was still intoxicating, but I yearned for Brian’s smell.
“I missed you too, Ian,” I lied.
“Baby, what are you doing living in Brooklyn? Your man isn’t holding it down for you?” Ian couldn’t even wait until we made it to the restaurant before starting in on the slick-ass comments.
“Obviously I don’t have a man if I’m here with you, and there is nothing wrong with Brooklyn,” I snapped.
“I’m sorry; I just worry about you. Believe it or not, I want you to be happy.” I laid my head on Ian’s chest, hoping he could somehow fill the empty void Brian left.
While we dined at Asia de Cuba, my mind drifted to Brian and what he was doing. I looked at the waterfall, wondering if throwing a penny in would change Brian into the man I wanted him to be. Ian and I made small talk about what we’d been doing, but my mind was somewhere else. After finishing dinner, I told Ian I was tired and had to get up early in the morning. Using Ian as my crutch wasn’t working. When we reached my apartment though, Ian was still optimistic that he had a chance.
“Tyler, I know you have a lot on your mind, but I can help you through it. Get some rest tonight, because tomorrow I have a game and I want you to come,” Ian said, confident that I would be there.
“Okay, call me tomorrow.” We kissed briefly on the lips before I closed the door.
The silence in the apartment added to my gloom. Being with Ian didn’t help me get over Brian. It made me miss him more. At the same time, I knew I needed to let him go because the bottom line was that we were too different. Not giving in to the urge to call Brian, I fell asleep with Brian McKnight’s “Anytime” playing in the background.
Early the next day someone was buzzing at my door, and to my delight it was Brian. When he came inside the first thing he saw was the red roses that Ian had brought me. He gave me a quizzical look but didn’t question me about them. He simply said, “I love you and I’m sorry. No woman has ever really asked much of me, and I’m finding it difficult to adjust. But I know we belong together, so I’m going to make it right.”
“You mean that?”
“With all my heart, Tyler, because I never knew I could love someone as much as I love you.” I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. Brian’s words touched a core inside that I didn’t know existed. My heart filled with warmth that only true love could bring.
“Brian, my heart belongs to you. The love you’ve expressed to me is the same love I feel for you.” Brian and I made love right there on the living room floor.
When we returned upstate, we had an incredible night to make up for our lousy Valentine’s Day. While sitting in the car about to go in the house, Brian said, “This is like déjà vu. Have you ever experienced it?”
“No, what is it?”
“It’s a feeling of having been in a place or experienced something before. I just had that with you, so I know this is where I’m supposed to be.” We had a heart-to-heart about many of my concerns. I explained to Brian that I didn’t expect him to give me everything in the world, but that he needed to step his romance game up a few notches. He understood that I wanted him to sweep me off my feet, and not just in the bed. The real romance happens outside the bedroom. He was rough around the edges when it came to that, but for the first time I could see that he was willing to try, and that was a positive sign.
As winter turned into spring, our love affair continued. Our bond seemed stronger, and I loved Brian even more for making such an effort in our relationship. As a surprise, he took me on a fabulous shopping spree up and down Fifth Avenue and didn’t even restrict me with a budget. That was a major leap for him.
My heart belonged to Brian. Our relationship was in full bloom. But once again, a gnawing pain in my stomach told me that something wasn’t quite right. The answers always seemed so close but y
et so far. One sunny afternoon while walking in Park Slope eating Häagen-Dazs dulce de leche, I felt compelled to speak my mind. “Brian, I feel like you’re living a double life,” I said candidly.
He looked at me with ice cream dripping from the side of his face, smiled, and said, “You know everything about me.” As I took my finger and wiped the ice cream from his chin like we were an old married couple, my sixth sense was telling me otherwise. I couldn’t put the pieces together, and since I hated to dwell on anything that I couldn’t instantly figure out, I put my thoughts in the back of my mind. But they were all there on reserve, waiting to go in their proper places. Here I was with a man who had made my heart so pink. I knew in many ways we weren’t compatible, but he made me love him. I compromised in the belief that maybe there was a chance for us.
Shattered Love
I believed I had found true love—not in a perfect package but a very workable one. Brian and I had come so far—we had been together for over a year and I deeply loved him. I knew we could be together forever.
I was sitting in the lounge at the Hit Factory talking to Melanie, a cute young Hispanic woman who was one of Leon’s many girlfriends. Leon was Brian’s partner and socalled best friend. He was a short light-skinned cat who wore his hair in long braids and swore he was a ladies’ man. Out the blue Melanie looked at me seriously and said, “I don’t think Brian deserves you,” which struck me as odd because I thought she and Brian were close. In fact, she referred to him as her big brother. My antennae instantly went up.
“Why do you say that, Melanie?” I asked.
“People aren’t always the way they seem,” she replied. With those words I knew this was the beginning of the end. I asked her point-blank what she meant. What she said next was chilling.
“Do you ever wonder why you’ve never been to Brian’s house?”