Page 5 of Kisses Behind The Spotlight 2: Finale

“Well, now that the dilemma is over,” I bubbled, shuffling over to the final unzipped garment bag hanging on the rack.

I pulled the zipper down, reached inside for the Bottega Veneta coat, and carefully lifted it out. That piece was the showstopper that pulled the look together. The double-breasted leather was dark, glossy, and embossed with a crocodile pattern that caught the afternoon light spilling through the open windows. I draped it over Salena’s shoulders and guided her to the floor-to-ceiling mirror.

“See. This is perfect,” I beamed, proud of my creation.

The coat fell perfectly on her figure, grazing the top of her thighs and swallowing all the attention in the room. Salena was still silent, and I prayed she wasn’t upset about the hat.

“Oh, you ate this look,” Bria complimented, grabbing the Prada purse off the bed. “You are about to be the baddest WAG in the building tonight, Salena.”

“Definitely.” Salena stuck her tongue out, sending relief shooting through me.

“I hate to rush out of here, but Jameera’s dad is in the hospital,” I informed Salena.

“Oh no. Is he okay?”

“He got into a car accident and was unconscious when he arrived at the hospital. That’s all I really know. I haven’t been able to get on the phone with her since I told her. I’m headed home now so I can see what’s going on.”

“Well, send her my love. I hope he makes a speedy recovery.”

“Will do.” I nodded and grabbed my empty garment bags.

Travis was waiting out front in a black truck when I exited the Waldorf. The bitter cold hit me as soon as I stepped outside, and I rushed past Malcom, my driver for the weekend, through the open rear passenger door. He tried to stop me so he could take the garment bags, but I waved him off, refusing to stop my moving feet. The jogger set I was wearing was not New York winter-friendly. Warmth and annoyance hit me at once as I settled into my seat. Travis in the football jersey, with his cameraman, Will, in the front seat recording him, I was instantly annoyed. I tossed my garment bags in his lap and plopped down in my seat.

“I told you no live cameras around me, Travis,” I huffed.

“Welp. The missus is in a fucked up mood. I’ll be back later. About to see if I can get her to change her mind about going to the Super Bowl,” he uttered to the camera.

Will killed the stream and sat properly in his seat.

“Instead of entertaining your Twitch, you could’ve come upstairs to help me. You knew I had to bring all of those garment bags down,” I complained, lifting my phone to my face to ensure that the travel plans were confirmed.

“My bad, bae. I wasn’t thinking,” he apologized and leaned over to kiss my cheek.

“Damn, you already ending the trip early, and now you gon’ have an attitude? Ion even see why you gotta leave early.

“I don’t give a fuck about a football game right now, Travis. If I didn’t have to work this morning, I would’ve left after my client last night. I’m going home to be there for my family,” I clarified.

“I get it.” Travis nodded, and the car fell silent as we eased into traffic.

I stared out of the window and placed another call to Jameera. My calls to Jameera, Q, and Khaleesi all went unanswered the night prior.

“You knew Q was in jail?” Travis blurted.

“What?” I huffed as Jameera’s answering machine picked up again.

“Yeah, his mugshot is circulating. Him and Jameera. They picked up his whole lil crew at the airport. I told you Q was the one that knocked that nigga D3’s jaw loose.”

“Travis, please stop talking,” I screeched because I was overstimulated.

My fingers typed a mile a minute in the DuckDuckGo search bar, and sure enough, countless articles came up about their arrests. That would explain my unanswered phone calls, since I told Q James was in a car accident. I read an article confirming that Q, Jameera, Xain, Khaleesi, and Duke were all arrested. Q and Jameera’s mugshots were plastered across the website, and the mascara running into the scrapes and bruises on Jameera’s face made me gasp.

“Excuse me, Malcolm, can you stop the truck?” I demanded more than asked.

“Like right here?”

“Why we stopping?”

Malcolm and Travis questioned at the same time. Travis eyed me while Malcolm scanned the street.