"I'll hit Niles up to run the numbers. We'll see what Cap's talking ’bout then decide. Until then… I want to record these."
Dom grunted through his frustration. He wanted Asao to take a stance on the deal with Cap, but knew he wouldn't.
"Them shits are dope, right? I knew you were gonna set it off proper." That statement had Asao laughing under his breath. Dom was stroking both of their egos at the same time. His beats and Asao's lyrics on top of them was pure genius, a talent that couldn't be touched even by so-called legends. "How do you want to do it?"
Dom handed Asao’s phone back before he began flipping switches on the control board. Asao was sure he had the tracks stored and was ready to go.
"Let me run through it then you can do your thing."
"Aight, bet. We're clubbing tonight, right?" Dom returned.
His cheek hiked at the same time his brows lifted. "Didn't you have enough of that last night?"
"Hell nah. When have you ever known me to pass up a chance to do it big?"
Translation, get drunk and get laid.
"Let's get this done so I can head home for a minute. You know I'm old as shit." Dom laughed hard. Asao could tell it came from understanding of how his boy got down. He was old as shit. Not by way of years but his days of being in the middle of things had ended as soon as this music thing took off.
It consumed every bit of energy he owned but he damn sure wasn't complaining. His fist met with Dom's before he headed to the booth. A switch flipped because just that fast he was focused. He would run through all three tracks, likely in one run because the words were committed to memory.
It was how he processed. Once he was done, he would leave Dom to do his thing. The tracks were always temporary, a starting point to get his words flowing. By the time Dom was done, they would have some fire shit that would blaze like everything else they put out in the world. For them, this was second nature, closely compared to the beat of a heart or taking a breath.
4
"What?"Ree narrowed her already thin eyes at Samari. Her head was in motion before the words left her bright red lips.
"No. I said sexy. What the hell is this?" The frown on Ree’s face had Samari rolling her eyes before they moved down her body. She was in jeans, very expensive open toed ankle boots, and a fitted silk blouse.
It was classy chic and befitting considering they were going to McCall’s, an upscale club downtown that was damn near list only. The average people were ushered in by way of looks andbody type. It was a little annoying but that was how things worked in some places.
The only reason Samari knew they were getting in was because as failed as her career was, she was still considered somebody in the industry. She could walk past any line, flash a smile, and enter with ease. Ree knew that as well, and with this hall pass thing she had been granted—a night away from her doting husband and adorable daughter—she wanted all the perks. Samari loved her, so she didn't complain.
"I look cute. What's wrong with my clothes?"
"You look like we're going to grab lunch on a rooftop lounge or at a cigar bar, not like you are actively seeking the comforts of a nice hard dick and possibly the company of the man it's attached to." Sheree’s soft brown eyes flickered mischievously and Samari's rolled.
"Because I'm not. I have bigger issues than worrying about a man."
"Yes you do, but tonight we're not thinking about any of that. You're going to make music again and you're going to be streaming everywhere. God didn't bless you with that voice and that mind of yours to be held captive by that snake ass man." Sheree’s face did a thing, a reflection of how much she loathed Samari's situation with Cobra Records. "Tonight, my friend, we both get hall passes. Yours is a break from your depressing ass life. Now let me find you something to wear."
Ree pushed past her, knocking into Samari's shoulder in the process. Her stride was bold and confident. Samari was sure it had to do with the confidence from being transformed from stay at home mommy to the vixen wearing short tight leather shorts and a satin bustier. The very high heel she wore accentuated toned legs and Samari had to admit Sheree looked amazing while Samari lookedcute.
By the time Samari reached her bedroom, Ree had tossed several items on her bed, all of them scantily thin material. Things Samari hadn't touched in years. Things she’d had to wear when she was in media rotations promoting the label and her album. Designers had sent them to her with the intent of her shouting out their pieces.
"Oh honey, this is it." Ree held up a black romper. It was skimpy to say the least. The bottoms barely made it past Samari’s cheeks when she tried it on. The front was cut low, exposing way too much skin, and there was no back at all. The only thing that kept it on her body was the thin string of crystals linked around her neck.
"I'm not wearing that." Her delivery was firm and Ree only grinned wider. The smile that opened up on her face was taunting and confident.
"Oh but you are. You're giving me whatever I want tonight because you professed your love for me and you want my night to be perfect. I want you in this."
"Sheree…"
Her protests fell on deaf ears. She wasn't having it. Samari glanced at the skimpy, thin, sheer material, rolling her eyes to the ceiling, snatching it from her hand right after. She was secretly hoping to damage the piece but no such luck. So she stomped off, heading to her bathroom, muttering under her breath.
"If I get kidnapped or worse, that's on you," Samari groaned.
"Shut up and get dressed so we can leave. I'm so ready for tonight. Soooooo ready," Sheree sang as Samari slammed her bathroom door.
