“Well damn.” He seemed surprised. “You leaving?”
“I don’t want to waste your time nor mine.”
“But . . . You don’t wanna eat? Damn girl. We can at least eat.”
“No, I really need to go. I’m good.”
“Before you leave though,” he said just as she was about to stand up.
She stopped all movement and gave him her attention. He at least deserved that much from her. “Yes?”
“Von says you’re somebody that’s going places. That true?”
“Yes. I’m going home.”
He grinned that yellow-gold teeth grin again. “But for real though,” he said. Then he began licking his lips as if he thought that made him look sexy. “I need a favor, lil’ mama.”
There it was. That dreaded favor. Every guy she dated was under the false impression that because she was a go-getter, or because she was still young and owned a business, she was some rich chick with money to spare. But what they never seemed to realize was that running a small business was a dailyhustle just to keep the lights on. It was a grind. It was hard work on top of hard work that she didn’t mind doing, but it was no walk in the park. And all thisextramoney wasn’t in the bargain either. “What kind of favor?” she asked him.
“I got this idea for my own business for real for real. And guess what it’s gonna be called?”
She didn’t respond. She just stared at him.
“It’ll be calledBusiness,” he said with his hands spread apart as if he was parting the Red Sea. “Ain’t that clever? I’m calling itBusiness,” he went on, “because that’s what I stand on, you feel me? I stand on business. But I need a lil’ some’um some’um on the capital side to get it off the ground. An investment of say a couple grand or something like that? Or even more if you wanna give it,” he said with another one of his lip-licks and grins as he glanced down at what she assumed was his penis. As if his boney ass could do anything for her. She got up.
She didn’t even dignify his ask with a response. She just left.
When she got outside and got into the Infiniti QX80 she used for her private transportation as well as for her business, she leaned her head back with tears in her eyes. She could blame her brother all she wanted, but the real reason she showed up for this blind date was because she was hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe this one would be different. That she’d finally find a man that wanted her for her, and was willing to grind with her. Not some joker that needed her to help a brother out with his rent. Or to hook a brother up with light bill money. Or to invest in some unspecified business venture that even Stevie Wonder could see would be like taking money and flushing it down a toilet.
But it was yet another date to nowhere. He was not her knight and never would be. He was more of the same. He wasjust like all the others who didn’t want her at all, but wanted what they could get from her. They wanted to use and abuse her until she was used and abused up. She’d been there, done that and wasn’t going back down that road again. Not ever.
She had resolve. But resolve didn’t conquer her loneliness. But she was tired of wasting her time anyway. She pressed the Start button, wiped her tears away, and took her man-less ass back to work.
CHAPTER TWO
“Partly cloudy but with an eighty-two percent chance of rain over the next few hours. So take those umbrellas, boys and girls, while you wait at your bus stops. Most of L.A. will see heavy rainfall later this morning.”
Hawthorne Webster sat on the side of his bed and looked as the meteorologist gave his forecast that more times than not turned out to be a dud. But he listened every time anyway. He watched that entire morning show every chance he got, too, even though he hated it with a passion. All that fake bantering between the hosts as if they were the best of friends when he knew for a fact they couldn’t stand each other, was not his cup of tea ever. But it was the kind of show that kept him informed about the entertainment spaces in which he traveled. That show and that weather forecast were as much a part of his morning routine as brushing his teeth and combing his hair.
And getting into the shower. Which he dragged his naked body from the bed to the bathroom, turned on the cold-water tap, and hopped inside.
He leaned his head back as that cold water sprayed every muscle in his muscle-tight, bronzed body, causing them to ache from too much stress. He knew he needed to slow his ass down. But he wasn’t listening to his body these days. It was contract season for a full third of his artists. And seemingly every single one of them wanted to renegotiate their shit to heights they’d never known because of the success they’ve enjoyed with his record label. As if they didn’t realize that once they signed withhim, they were going to blow up bigger than their country asses could have ever dreamed.
But once they tasted success, they wanted even more of it. They wanted a sweetheart deal. But what they didn’t know, but were about to find out, was that The Hawk, as they loved to call him, didn’t fly like that. Being a part of his label was the only sweetheart deal they were getting from him.
But he had to show them better than his reputation could tell them. And that was why he had to ignore his body as it screamed for more rest. There was no rest until Spring.
He got out of the shower, peed for what seemed like forever, and then stood at the vanity as he dried off. He reached over, pressed the button against the wall, and listened to the voice messages on Bluetooth from his phone:
“Come on now, Hawk! Why you doing this to me, man? I wanna stay at Eagle Records, you know I do. But you got to meet me halfway. The terms in this contract are insane. My manager said I can’t sign nothing like this. He says I got offers. Plenty offers from everybody. But I’d rather stay with Eagle. Damn man. Call me back.”
“I’m the number one streaming artist in America and you put this shit on the table? This nothing contract? Fuck you, Hawk. Fuck you!”
“You ordered your guys to dump me, Hawk? After all those hits I made for Eagle Records? That’s some cold shit, man. That’s some dirty dog kind of cold shit, man.”
“Yo Hawk? Why you low-ballin’ me like I’m some newbie, bro? Why you doin’ this to me? I been with you since you started Eagle Records. We flew high together. But now you wanna treat me like this? That ain’t right, bro. That ain’t right. I thought we was cool.”
Cool? Hawk couldn’t believe he said that. On what planet would he be cool with some has-been stoner like Jake-the-Jukewho would rather fuck and snort than make good music? Hawk didn’t know how they did it at other record companies, but everybody knew he didn’t play that shit at Eagle. And Jake knew it too. He wasn’t thinking about that meth head.
