Page 93 of Just Like Summer

Cairo chuckled. He hadn’t googled himself. He refused to. “I keep getting asked that. On Azul, I’m just trying to find my footing again.”

“Ay, man, let’s take the ride together,” East said, looking past him to Kamilla who was laughing and talking with Rolani James and his wife. “You think we can stay on her radar?”

“Depends on how you conduct yourself and what your motive is,” Cairo replied, taking in the beauty of the view.

“She bad but I’m never the type of nigga to shit where I eat, that’s how I got jammed up. But I’ve seen the work she’s done, she knows her music and she makes niggas take off.”

Indeed she did.

“My suggestion, keep the business at the front of your mind. That’s what she’s looking for. All this is a test. Go pass that shit,” Cairo encouraged the young man. “But before you do, what got you jammed up?”

East chuckled. “So, I got this security job at a bank back in the port. My ex got it for me. I was there for three months casing the place. When we went to rob and the cops came, she pointed her finger right at me. Because we didn’t get away with shit for real, I got six years.”

“But you’re rapping about catching bodies,” Cairo pointed out.

East twitched a little bit. “I rap for the niggas I was locked up with who might not get to tell their story. Street life poetry.”

“I feel that but there’s a small disconnect. Don’t stress it, we can figure out a believable balance that won’t have the label looking at you sideways. You heard of Ray da Don?”

East frowned. “That nigga was an industry plant.”

“Rapping lyrics he never even watched on tv type shit,” Cairo added. “We’re not doing that shit. You’re going to stick to your program, no one else’s. Aight?”

“Aight,” East agreed. “Tomorrow after sound stage?”

“Yeah. Don’t stand me up, nigga.”

“On Azul, I won’t.”

Cairo waited until East was back in the crowd before he turned to find Kamilla. She was gone, so was her security and her thirsty, narrow eyed assistant. That was his cue. He’d already called the front desk, finessing his way into a digital key, claiming to be her husband and wanting to surprise her for their anniversary. How easy it was to get access to her really made him want to cuss out the management.

When he was back at the host hotel, he grabbed a duffle bag and made his way to her room. Even going as far as to order her some tacos to soak up the alcohol in her system. He waited in the living space, bypassing the texts from Nate, Fahaad, and Dania.

The door knob turned and she stepped in. A giggle flooded the space. “I love you too, baby. I’m about to get in the shower and sleep. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?...I love you more.”

Soon as she hung up the phone, his voice grabbed her attention. “Loving anyone other than me got me considering making a garden out a nigga.”

Kamilla’s eyes cut to him and a groan fell from her lips while rolling her eyes and pushing her hair out of her face with that hand. “I’d ask how you got in here but since B&E is your specialty, I won’t waste my time. You can go, though.”

“Nahh,” he trilled. “We’re talkin’. I got tacos.”

“I’m not hungry,” she huffed, kicking her heels off. “And I don’t want to talk to you.”

“That’s you or that nigga talkin’?” he questioned, standing to his feet and closing space between them. “The one you love so fuckin’ much.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you talking about Cairo,” she scoffed.

“Oh, she cusses?” he quizzed. Grabbing her wrist with enough force to study the ring. “You marrying that nigga?”

Kamilla snatched away from him. “Why the fuck would you care? Huh? You blocked me. Had me sitting in that lobby for fuckin’ hours. You know what, no, I’m not doing this. We were done then. We’re done now.”

“We’ll never be done,” he spoke, his body cornering her.

She swiped a tear from her cheek and huffed. “Just when I finally freed myself from the echoes of you, you pop up with your chest out.”

“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll leave.”

She rolled her eyes and lied. “I don’t love you. Now leave.”