Page 13 of Kisses Behind the Spotlight

“He popped up maybe five minutes ago. I barely got to see his face before he was back out the door. He came home early for a meeting.”

“Ohhhhh, well I got invited out at the last minute and ended up in Miami with this girl I met on set last month. Although you might think I was just out partying, I was securing a few new brand ambassadors,” she stuck her tongue out.

“You are so wasteful flying to Miami for a turnaround trip. If you flew on a PJ, you just added more unnecessary pollution. Did you at least fly commercial and try to reduce your carbon footprint?”

“Jameera, sweetie, please remember who you are talking to. I’ve been flying on PJs since I was in the fifth grade. Plus, this is not about me. Let’s stay on topic,” she pleaded, clapping twice.

“Ummm hmmm,” I mumbled, my lips flattened as I shook my head.

“I am going to share the girls’ social media pages with you. They are all eighteen and just reminded me of us when we were their age before things took off for us, so I want to help where I can.”

“Girl, we are not that old,” I laughed.

While I was shy to warm up to people, Amill was a social butterfly. Ready to chat anybody up, it didn’t matter the time or place. It was one of the attributes I loved about her. After graduating from high school, we spent a year in Japan, learning the fashion industry by day and hitting the streets at night with Amill leading the way. There was never a dull night that year.

“Well, I hate to do you the same way, but I’m exhausted, and if Q helped you pick a color, I trust y’all judgment. I’m going to get some sleep,” Amill announced, digging around in the bag for the second carton.

“Oh, you are so nasty for your drive-by visit too,” I flung my fork at Amill, and she emitted a low giggle.

“I’m sorry, bestie. I need to soak my feet and get some sleep because I’m running off four hours. But I will be up bright and early to go to the farmers market tomorrow,” she affirmed, pulling me into a side hug and gently kissing my cheek.

“Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning,” I chirped.

Amill left, locking the door behind her. I looked out of the terrace windows, and the sun was shining so brightly. I could use the vitamin D and a longer break before I got back to finalizing the details. Grabbing a mango pineapple pressed juice from the fridge and my food, I sauntered onto the terrace. The warm sun and gentle breeze instantly caressed my exposed skin while the light salty sea breeze from the marina below tickled my nostrils. I claimed a seat in one of the swivel armchairs and peeled the cap off my carton. Every bite was better than the last, and I was licking the bowl clean within a few minutes.

Q was right. I came out and rotated my plants while reciting words of affirmation that were for me and the plants before I began working that morning. My terrace was my own private tropical conservatory, with the bird of paradise, jasmine, and bougainvilleas strategically placed and well cared for. The low seventies we were blessed with after the blistering cold would make you think the entire state didn’t just experience some of the lowest temperatures we’d seen in years. That was why I loved Florida and couldn’t see myself calling any other state home.

My phone rang, and it was Khaleesi calling. I hadn’t heard from her since we got back from Miami. She stayed behind with the fellas to pull everything together for the music video, and I hadn’t heard from her since she scurried out of Mama Marissa and Yaseer’s house after admitting she put the iguanas in Xain’s truck.

“Hello,” I greeted her.

“Hey boo,” she replied, and I got comfortable in my seat.

“Girrrrllllllll, Xain just left out of here. Have you seen his face?”

“Yep. That bitch had to go to the hospital yesterday. His stupid ass ended up needing stitches on his eyelid that he chose to ignore until he couldn’t anymore,” Khaleesi rasped, then coughed into the phone. I could tell she moved away from the phone as the coughing continued because the sounds grew faint for a few seconds before she came back to the phone.

“I’m so sorry. I need to get off this phone kiking like I’m not fighting for my life over here,” Khaleesi replied sluggishly.

“Oh no, what’s wrong?”

“Girl, I have the flu. I woke up feeling ill on Tuesday, but I pushed through and did my job until I physically couldn’t anymore.”

“Oh no. Do you need anything? You want some soup and orange juice? Or do you need me to grab some meds for you?”

“No, Andy DoorDashed everything I needed after I left the doctor’s office.”

“Andy from the venue?” I questioned.

“Yep.”

“He was handsome. I can see y’all together,” I confirmed.

“Maybe. We will see what the future holds. Although I don’t need anything for the flu, I do need a favor. Can you please take D3 the pieces that you and Amill pulled for him?” Khaleesi requested, referring to the up-and-coming rapper that my father was working with.

All of the pieces we picked were hanging in a garment bag on the rolling clothes rack in my office. Nothing about this process with D3 was how we usually did business. First, it was last minute as hell. Second, we did the work for free. Now we had to deliver the clothes to him. Unless you were a recurring client we worked closely with, the executive or personal assistant would usually pick up the clothes. However, this was a favor for my father, and Khaleesi was sick, so I wouldn’t complain too much, but he definitely had me working outside of my job description. Just listening to Khaleesi’s nasally tone made me feel terrible for her.

“Okay, when does he need it?”