by Meta Smith
What irritated Dez the most were the people who seemed to crawl out the woodwork who claimed to have known her or been her friend. If they had been such good friends, why hadn’t they helped her? She hadn’t even met most of the people who surfaced! As far as she was concerned, aside from Sparks, she’d only ever had one true friend, and that was Ginger. Sometimes Dez half expected Ginger to pop up on television and share their story, but in the nearly three months since she’d gotten her deal she hadn’t. Dez knew that Ginger had no way of knowing where she was living; she hadn’t spoken to her since before she moved out of Dan’s place. But Ginger was resourceful if anything, so she could find Dez if she wanted to. Maybe she doesn’t want to find me, Dez often thought to herself. Maybe she’s ashamed of me. Or maybe I just need to call her. Her number is probably still the same.
THE WEEKS TURNED INTO MONTHS, AND THE HOLIDAYS CAME
and went. Dez thought she would die. Every time she turned on the television or the radio, there was talk about family and togetherness, but she felt so alone. Bentley stopped by on Christmas briefly, but ignored her as usual. And for the first time in years, Dez stayed in on New Year’s Eve. She and Sparks drank a magnum of Cristal to themselves and ended up making love in front of the fireplace. Dez knew that it was wrong, that
she and Sparks could never be more than friends, and that her actions were selfish. But she couldn’t stand the feeling of not having anyone at the holidays. And deep down inside she believed that Sparks knew the truth but that he didn’t want to feel alone any more than she did. Then the Super Bowl rolled around. Dez thought about how the Super Bowl just three years before had been the beginning of her life as a hotgirl. She missed Ginger.
Desiree should have been on top of the world. Her career was greater than she ever imagined; she and Bentley were slated to perform at the NBA All-Star Game in Philadelphia. For once, she’d be in the presence of the NBA’s most talented athletes, and she would be on their level. They wouldn’t be able to look at her as just some stripper. They’d have to give her respect. The only butt-shaking she would be doing this All-Star Weekend would be during her performance at half-time.
She figured that since she and Bentley would have to work together, she’d have a way to get close to him again. Maybe she would be able to resolve what was left of their issues and mend their shattered relationship. No such luck. Bentley ignored her the whole time they prepared for the performance. There were to be all kinds of special effects and pyrotechnics, and Dez was excited yet nervous. She’d never performed in front of more people than could fit inside of a strip club or on a video set. Now there were going to be tens of thousands of people in attendance and millions watching on television.
The entire Titanium Records crew–artists, dancers, and staff–arrived in Philadelphia by private jet. Dez for once had no fear of flying. There was everything she could possibly need to soothe her nerves aboard the aircraft. She indulged in the Remy Martin Louis XIII, potent marijuana, and a full-body Swedish massage during the one-hour flight. By the time they checked into the Sheraton Society Hill hotel, Dez was amped and ready for action. Fuck Bentley, she thought. I’ll show his ass!
There was so much business to be taken care of that Dez thought she’d never get to enjoy Philly’s nightlife. Sparks kept her roster full with promotional appearances. There were meet-and-greets, autograph signings, and a photo shoot scheduled with none other than Dewante Reid, a favorite to win the MVP Award.
Dez nearly choked when Sparks told her that she’d be shooting a suggestive layout for the Source with Dewante. The shoot would consist of Dez in Dewante’s jersey and a shirtless Dewante. There would also be an interview where Dez would ask the questions and he would answer, and then they would switch places.
“Houston, we have a problem,” Dez hissed at Sparks through clenched teeth when they arrived at the gymnasium where the shoot would be staged.
“What?” Sparks asked. “Everything is going great!”
“No, it isn’t. Why didn’t you tell me that this shoot was with Dewante?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise. I know how the ladies love Dewante.” “Not all of us,” Dez replied curtly.
Sparks arched an eyebrow. “You know him?” “Intimately,” Dez revealed.
“Well, get over it. This is business,” Sparks barked, not even attempting to mask his jealousy.
Dez ignored Sparks’s attitude and got to the point. “What if he brings up our past? It was a real freaky scene.” Dez was concerned only about her image, not about Sparks and his bruised ego.
“Yeah, well, I’ve come to expect that from you, Dez,” he spat.
“Fuck you, Sparks! You and your brother are two of a kind. I’ll handle this shit my way!” Dez turned on her heels and stormed off.
“WELL, WELL, WELL, DESIRE. SO WE MEET AGAIN.” DEWANTE
grinned that megawatt smile.
“The name is Dez. And I don’t recall having ever met you.” Dez extended her hand and shook Dewante’s.
“How soon we forget. I’ve met you and a young lady named Ginger before. Remember her?” Dewante smirked.
Dez smirked back. “Actually, now that you mention it, I do. I lived with her briefly, when I was sixteen.” If Dewante wanted to play hardball, she was down.
“Sixteen?” Dewante looked confused.
“Yeah, see, I’m only eighteen,” Dez explained.
“That’s bullshit. I thought that all the mess with Dirty Dan was just media hype. You know, stir up a little controversy, sell a few more albums.” “Oh, no hype. So if you want to pay like Dirty Dan had to pay, be my guest. Bring up the fact that we’ve known each other in the biblical sense.
I’ll be forced to mention our little tryst in vivid detail. Child pornography is one thing, but statutory rape is another.”
“Ain’t nobody gonna trip off that. You were the fast-tailed ho in the Rolexxx,” Dewante countered. “I’m a star. You think people are gonna
care about me doing it with a lying, teenage groupie?”
“Still like it up the ass, Dewante? Because maybe your fans and wife would love to hear all about that from this lying, teenage groupie. As a matter of fact, let me call Ginger, she’s in town,” Dez lied. “I could have her come to the shoot and tell the Source her side of the story.” Dez smiled triumphantly as she threatened him. Running into Dewante made her feel a lot better than she thought it would. Who had the power now?
“We cool, Dez. Let’s just handle this business because I’m a very busy man.” Dewante walked away in a hurry.
“Sure. No problem,” Dez called after him, barely able to control her laughter.
DEWANTE WAS A PERFECT GENTLEMAN FOR THE REMAINDER
of the shoot, and although he was an asshole, Dez had to admit to herself that Dewante was fine and the resulting photos were bound to be the sickness. She’d gain an even bigger fan base, and she got to give Dewante a taste of his own medicine, so all in all it was a good experience.
The All-Star Game, however, was not. Bentley flirted with every groupie that looked his way, and he put it on extra when Dez was looking, which was most of the time. She was not lacking from male attention; every baller in the league tried to holler. But Dez wasn’t interested. By the time they performed, Dez was ready to kill Bentley. Right before they took the stage he kissed a girl, an ugly one at that, dead in the mouth, and right in Dez’s face. She pretended to be unfazed, but the pain cut through her like a knife.
The crowds went crazy when Bentley flowed. Girls screamed, and every head in the house bobbed to the beat. But the most amazing thing happened when Dez made her entrance. Seated atop a candy-pink Harley- Davidson, she roared onto the stage as the music to her upcoming single, “Down to Ride,” played. The audience went wild. Dez forgot all about Dewante and all about Bentley as she gave her all to her performance. Dez had to scream her lines in order to be heard over the deafening crowd.
After giving them a teaser, she and Bentley performed the
ir collaboration. Balloons and confetti dropped from the ceiling as sparks shot into the air and explosions went off on the stage. It was the best performance NBA audiences had ever seen at an All-Star Game, and even the most critical sports announcers had nothing negative to say backstage, Sparks scooped Dez into his arms and twirled her in a circle.
“You were the shit, mami!” he exclaimed, kissing her on the cheek. “I’m sorry I was jealous,” he whispered as he set her on her feet.
“Thanks, Sparky!” She smiled, using her special nickname for him to show him that all was forgiven.
“Baby brother, another great performance, as usual.” Sparks gave Bentley a pound.
“No doubt. What did you expect?” he answered nonchalantly as he joined the groupie from earlier and disappeared.
“You okay?” Sparks asked Dez. He knew that Bentley’s dig had to have hurt her.
“Never better,” Dez answered, feigning ambivalence. “Wanna go celebrate?” she asked him with a wink.
“You ain’t said shit but a word,” Sparks replied as they headed back to the hotel.
CHAPTER 20
April 2002
I
T WAS LATE, NEARLY 4 A.M., AS DEZ DUG INTO HER oversize suede Coach Hobo bag, a gift from Sparks, and pulled out her
two-way pager. There were four messages from K.G. This was getting ridiculous. First thing in the morning she would call him and really straighten things out. Apparently, he hadn’t understood that she was serious during their previous conversation. She’d be firm yet gentle. What they’d had was over. Putting K.G. to the back of her mind, she scrolled through the pager’s address book until she came across the phone number she had been searching for.
Please be the right number, Dez prayed silently as she dialed it with shaky
fingers.
“Hello?” A sleepy voice breathed into the phone on the other end. “Ginny?” Dez asked hopefully.
“Praise God, Desi, is that you?” Ginger’s voiced perked up. “Yeah. It’s me,” Dez replied softly.
“I’ve been praying for you to call. I sensed somehow that you needed me. Is everything okay?”
“Still praying, huh?” Dez kidded.
“All day, every day. My motto is PUSH. Pray until something happens,” Ginger answered. “But stop trying to change the subject, Desi. Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but...” Dez hesitated.
“But you’re afraid to tell me what’s wrong because you think I’m going to start preaching. Or, worse, you think I’ll come at you with some ‘I told you so’ stuff,” Ginger predicted.
“Well, are you?”
“Of course not. We have plenty of time for that later.” Ginger laughed. “For now, why don’t you just tell me what’s the matter? When I told you that I would always be there for you, I meant that. I’m just so glad that you called me. It’s been, what, almost three years.”
“Yeah, it has been. I really meant to call, Ginny. But I had no idea what to say to you. You were right about so many things. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing already. I didn’t want to be right about a lot of stuff.”
There was a silence. “Anyway, I saw you on a billboard and during the All- Star Game. You’re a real rapper now, huh? I’m so proud of you. You are very talented, nena. I had no idea.” Dez began to sob softly on the other end of the receiver.
“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong, or am I going to have to come over there? You still at Dan’s?” Ginger asked.
“Oh no. I want you to come over, only I’m in New York. Can you get on a plane? I’ll have a ticket waiting for you at the airport. JetBlue, okay? Can you come tomorrow?” Dez pleaded.
“Yeah, sure I’ll come. Some things change, and some things don’t. I’m still always ready to travel. Are you going to be okay until I get there?” Ginger asked, her voice filled with concern. “You’re not sick or hurt or anything, are you?”
“Not really. It’s an emotional and spiritual matter.”
“And you called me? I’m flattered. You know I’ll be there!”
“Good. Cuz you’re my only true friend. You’re the only person that I can trust,” Dez admitted.
“I’m glad you feel you can trust me, because you really can. So much has changed in my life, but we’ll get into all of this tomorrow,” Ginger told her. “Well, all I can say is that you’ll be in my prayers until we meet. In the meantime, say a prayer for yourself. Please. That’s the end of my sermon for now.”
“Okay,” Dez said. “I’ll call you in a few hours with your flight info. Just be ready to go in the early afternoon.”
“I’ll see you later today, Desi,” Ginger assured her. “Okay, Ginny, get back to sleep. See you soon.”
ROUGHLY TWELVE HOURS LATER, DEZ PICKED UP GINGER AT
JFK in a chauffeur-driven Lexus truck. Her jaw had nearly dropped to the ground when she met Ginger at the baggage claim. Ginger’s hair was cropped short in a face-flattering style. Gone were the colored contacts and skimpy clothes. Ginger looked elegant and sophisticated in a brown pantsuit and crisp pink shirt, accented with pearl jewelry. She looked like a businesswoman or schoolteacher.
“No, I’m not a schoolteacher, unless you count Sunday school,” Ginger quipped when Dez commented on her change in appearance.
“You do not teach Sunday school!” Dez shrieked. Ginger smiled. “I sure do.”
“Right. Next you’ll be telling me that you’re going to be a preacher or something.” Dez rolled her eyes.
“Well...,” she started.
“Get the fuck outta here!” Dez howled. “Oops, my bad. I didn’t mean to curse,” she apologized as they retrieved her bags and headed to the Lexus truck.
“Stop trippin’. I’m not as bad as I was when I first got saved. Act normal, and I promise that I will too. I’ve learned to live in the world, but not of it,” Ginger explained.
“Cool. But you’re gonna be a preacher?” Dez shook her head.
“Well. I had contemplated joining a convent.” Ginger raised an eyebrow at Dez.
“Get the fuck outta here!” Dez yelled again, then covered her mouth. “Yeah. But I’m not going to do it. I was raised a Catholic, but now I’m
attending a Baptist church. It just gives me a different feeling, you know?” Ginger gave Desiree’s hand a squeeze. Dez looked down and noticed a stunning two-carat pear-shaped diamond set in a thick platinum band.
“Whatthehell?” Dezlifted Ginger’shand. Gingersmiledmischievously. “I guess I’m going to just have to settle for being a preacher’s wife.”
Ginger wiggled her fingers in front of Dez. “You’re married?” Dez asked in disbelief.
“Not yet. In about three months. You better be in my wedding, but we’ll go into that later.”
“Who? When? How did this happen?”
“Well, after I had that experience and found the Lord, for a while I drifted from church to church, trying to find a place to call my spiritual
home. That’s when I went to discernment weekends and retreats at different convents and checked out some seminaries and theological schools and stuff. But none of it was speaking to me. You know I couldn’t give up all my stuff. That might have been cool for Mase, but he didn’t work as hard as I did to get what I had. I knew that some of it was wrong, how I got it, but still!”
Yeah, Desiree thought, she’s still the same old Ginger!
“I’m striving to be like Jesus, but I’m not there yet. I sold the Web sites for a hefty profit, then I went to the Dominican Republic and Haiti for a while to get in touch with my roots and find my center. I figured if I couldn’t get rid of all the things that ‘dirty money’ had bought, I could at least do some good with the new proceeds. I needed to get to the heart of who I was as a person. I found my father and confronted him. He had a new family that knew nothing about me. It wasn’t pleasant, but we came to a sort of understanding, and it helped me to vanquish some of the ghosts I had been dealing with. I got rid
of a lot of the anger. I donated a lot of my clothes and technical help to the poor people in Port-au-Prince. I just went on a spiritual journey, you know? I met my fiancé while working with some orphans in Haiti. He’s a doctor and a minister, and he was working on a mission. I don’t know, we just hit it off.”