Chapter 15
Fifteen
S oft nudges pulled me into consciousness. My mind began to lighten as I drew farther and farther away from what I now knew was a dream.
“Baby-boo,” I heard softly projected from a female’s voice. “Time for breakfast, Baby-boo.”
The hell …
Finally, I opened my eyes and lifted my head to find her soft body curled over me, sitting on the side of the bed.
Suddenly, the reference registered, and I couldn’t help my laugh. “Girl!” Hayden fell into laughter with me. “You can’t steal my shit no matter how much you try to remix it. Get your own shit.” My body extended into deep stretches starting with my arms.
Hayden’s head tossed back, and her hand went to her mouth as she tittered, “That is my own shit. Baby-boo. What’s wrong with that?”
“The shit sounds corny as hell, is what’s wrong with it.” I yawned as she continued to crack the hell up. “What’s this?” I eyed the tray standing next to the bed.
Hayden reached for the plate. “This is breakfast.”
“Damn.” I scooted up the bed to rest against the headboard. “What time is it?” I would’ve reached for one of my mobile phones for that answer, but Hayden was placing a throw pillow on my lap followed by the plate of food.
“It’s not quite seven. I figured you were going to bolt out of here early this morning, and I wanted to get ahead of you.”
I rubbed my face with both palms. “Feels like we just got into bed.”
“I tried to warn you about the late hour last night in the pool.”
“Yeah. Then you gave up the ship and requested more sex.”
She winked. “That was fun.”
Hayden’s reverse cowgirl game was still potent. Sent my ass drifting as soon as I dried us off with a towel and crawled into bed.
“ Ooooh… ” I observed the plate. Eggs, turkey bacon, cantaloupe, honeydew, and…crackers with banana peppers. I reached over to caress the side of her face with my thumb. “You know my love language.”
Hayden didn’t respond to that joke the way I thought she would. Instead, her eyes went to her lap, draped in a white, cotton sleeveless gown. The straps were relaxed enough to give view to her engorged boobs.
“You think we should look at the DNA results?”
My head swung back. “Not this shit again. We were doing so good, Hayden.”
“I know!” she screeched regretfully, at least that’s how it sounded. “We really— you really have. I mean… What you shared last night… The fact that you felt compelled to share it with me… I feel like we…”
I swiped scrambled eggs from the fork in my mouth, and while chewing, answered, “Like we go together now?—”
“ Yessss! ” Her eyes grew wild. “Wait. No. I would never put such an expectation on a man.”
“Are you reverting back to raising the baby alone again?” The anger rising in my chest felt different than I was accustomed to, yet similar to when I found her in the restaurant with Rob.
“No.” She shook her head, eyes closing. Something was wrong. “No. Absolutely—can we forget I ever suggested that?” Her volume increased, “Unless you change your mind. I’d be…okay.”
Hayden was lying.
I forked more eggs, sounding like a fucking kid, “I thought you were starting to like me, Boo-baby.”
Yeah. I was using charm but being honest as fuck along with it.
She sucked in a breath, palms shooting into the air. “I do! Oh, my god. I really do and I hate it.” Her head dropped then she slapped her face. Suddenly her head popped back up. “Not you. It’s not you. It’s me. As much as I think your expectations of me being tracked and controlled are completely neurotic, I think you have a heart with good intentions. You’re smart, generous, and about your family…”
“Lay good pipe.” My eyes rolled up to see her reaction.
She closed her eyes and rolled them behind their lids. “Ishaan…”
“I was just helping you out, Boo-baby.”
She exhaled, “Yeah. And with all those things, I’m still having a hard time fully trusting you.”
I dropped the fork onto my plate. “The fuck is going on, Hayden?”
Staring at the floor, her pinched mouth circled. Then she stood, appearing to relent, and toed over to the nightstand on her side of the bed. Returning, she typed into her phone. Hayden didn’t sit down again when she handed it to me. Immediately, I recognized a text thread.
703/555-2313: Hayden this is Kenny. Call me back at this number ASAP.
An hour later, he hit her up again.
703/555-2313: It’s me. Kenny sis.
Sis?
Two days later, Rob sent another text.
703/555-2313: Look. I know youre pregnant by Ish. That ain’t my business. I need your help. I’m in a serious bind here. Don’t listen to what he says about me. He don’t know me. YOU know me! Please answer my text or call me.
Hayden: Kenny, you’re right. I’m pregnant with his child. Something about what happened a few weeks ago still feels weird to me. The shit with your name is grimy af. He doesn’t want me in contact with you. My gut is telling me to back out of you guys’ shit. I’m pregnant and don’t need the stress. Good luck to you.
Rob tried her again yesterday.
703/555-2313: Youre probably on reds island with him. Please. I ran into some cash flow issues. I’m in trouble and need to keep moving. I need money to do this. Those guys are bad news hayden. Real bad. If you call me back I can explain. Ish ain’t who you think he is. Don’t let the light skin pretty boy long hair shit fool you. that niggas a sniper. YOU KNOW I DON’T LIE ABOUT SHIT LIKE THIS.
I glanced up at her. “And you haven’t replied?” Hayden looked uncomfortable when she shook her head. I believed her but still went to her phone log to confirm it. Then I handed her back the phone. “Block the number, Hayden.”
“Okay.” She shrugged, nonchalantly. It seemed Hayden was braving herself for something.
Me?
I went back to my food, trying to appear unbothered. “Why can’t you trust me? Still.”
I heard her deep intake of air. “What I meant was, I didn’t trust if you were gonna go Santana on Nick Young on me again.”
My face went tight, and chin dropped near my damn chest. “I’m not even sure what Santana is—what the whole reference is. But if you think I’m going to be upset just because he’s calling, you’re wrong, Boo-baby.” I plopped a piece of honeydew into my mouth and chewed.
“Well, you did the first time you saw us together. And he’s someone I’ve never been involved with.”
“I’m sorry about that Hayden.” I should have addressed this long ago. “I was wrong for reacting the way I did. It was…me ‘giving up the ship’ in my own way. And I played myself. I told you I, too, have trust issues. I saw a known antagonist had been in contact with the woman carrying my child. The woman I’d opened to emotionally the night before. It wasn’t my finest moment. If it makes you feel any better, I no longer believe you two are or were more than what you said. The coincidence just…” Triggered the fuck out of me . “…wasn’t my finest discerning moment. Again, I’m sorry, Hayden.”
I meant that shit. It was way overdue.
Her eyes fell toward the bed, and I could see her swallow. “Okay. I appreciate that and would like to put it behind us.” Her hands went to her belly. “But I’d like to clear up another matter.”
I picked up a cracker and used the fork to begin scooping banana peppers. “Shoot.”
“This is the second time I’ve heard about your dual personality. There’s the Ish I guess I know along with the general public. And apparently, there’s the sinister correspondent to whom we know as well.”
“There could be worse allegations.”
“That’s not an answer, Ishaan.”
Okay …
“We talked about this the other day. I make sure people have a good time and are safe while doing it. When safety is in question, my job can get… Eh.. . …rather dangerous depending on the nature of the problem. Currently, our three properties accommodate tens of thousands. In with the good patrons are a sprinkle of the bad. The bad can get very dangerous.” My head bounced on my shoulders. “I can get dangerous, too. It’s my line of work. Is the balance so delicate I need a therapist? I have one I see regularly. Do you have to worry about me harming you?” I shook my head. “Never.”
It took a few seconds of me awaiting a response, but Hayden eventually exhaled and resumed her seat on the side of the bed, next to me. She took me at the sides of my face and pulled me toward her for a kiss. Then she took a cracker and used her fingers to pick up peppers from my plate.
“What’s up with Kenny anyway? What’s your beef with him? It clearly happened before you learned we knew each other.”
Her questions earlier created a path for honesty. Whether Hayden was ready or not would be on her.
“Rob was present at a murder in Atlantic City.”
Her jaw dropped. “Did he have something to do with it?”
I shrugged with my mouth. “I’m not sure. But I do know all involved wasn’t a crowd he should have been associated with. Rob isn’t a dangerous kid as far as I’m concerned. He’s an ambitious, nuanced fuck up. He’s in over his head.” I shook my head slowly but vehemently. “And he’s to never know you again. At least, until this shit is behind him because the people involved in that murder are looking for Rob.”
My seven o’clock alarm sounded. As I stretched over the bed to grab the phone to silence it, my other phones began to chirp. It was official. I was now on the clock. I reached for another phone and saw a text from Phil, the guy I installed as the head of talent affairs. He mentioned Brielle wanted to meet with me today before soundcheck.
As I reached for another device, I asked, “You ladies have plans for today?”
“Loose,” Hayden answered still appearing dazed. “ Ummm …” she cleared her throat. “Rayna and I are supposed to work out this morning. Sundryia was invited. But I’m not sure of what condition, if any, either of them will be in considering how much more inebriated they got when I parted ways with them.”
Going through my messages, I noticed she went quiet. “Hayden?”
“Hmmm?” her head whipped my way.
“You’re good. We’re good. Get out of your head. If there’s something you want to know, ask me. You’re safe. Will always be. Just enjoy yourself. Okay?”
Biting her bottom lip, she nodded. My girl didn’t seem convinced, though I got the impression she wanted to believe me. I’d hoped to get used to this vulnerable side of her.
“Oh.” A thought occurred. “I’ve scheduled a private spa day for you. So, you may wanna pass on that if mentioned.”
Dazed, she chirped. “Okay.”
“Boo-baby.”
Her eyes shot over to me. I dipped my chin. “We’re good.”
Taking another deep breath, Hayden nodded successively.
I was let into her bungalow by one of her beefy security details. “She’s to the left and down the hall.” He pointed.
After a brief nod, I took off in that direction. I hadn’t been to the bungalow properties since my last visit to Sun-Bronzed Maroon when I had to sign off on the final touches. The bungalows were created away from the primary resort to provide privacy for our high-rollers, top celebrities, and performers. Similar to the villas, the location was set at a driving distance, just not as far.
Once the primary room’s opening came into view and I was able to hear jazz playing, and see a robed woman in a chair, having her hair done by a man in all black, I knew I was in the right place.
Tapping the accent table behind a sofa, I announced my presence. “Knock, knock. You rang, her majesty?”
Both parties’ heads swung my way, but my target was solely the tortilla-complected woman sitting on crossed legs in a director’s chair.
Unexpectedly, Brielle’s face opened into a beam rivaling the bright sun shining through the open doors where there was an endless view of the ocean. “Ishaan!”
She kicked her legs from beneath her and moved forward to warn the hairstylist she was preparing to leave her chair. She met me with a proffered hand, and I obliged. “Good to see you.” I played it professional, feeling something was up with her frequency.
“I’m good. I’m good,” she repeated. “LeeLee, can you give us a moment alone. Please.”
I watched the guy leave the room then turned to see who else was left. “Where’s Yvette? Your mother?”
“I didn’t want them to be in on this conversation. They know I’m here with you.”
“Alone?”
“Yvette says the safest place on this resort is wherever you are.” Brielle chuckled. “Have a seat.” She pointed to the sofa. “Thanks so much for stopping by.”
“Is everything okay? You ready for soundcheck?”
A waft of her floral and candy scent brushed against my nose. “Just about. My team has been over there since about six this morning, setting up the stage.”
“Well, this is the biggest ticket item for Sun-Bronzed Maroon . I’m glad you agreed to be a part of the launch.”
“Of course. Of course.” Her head bobbed up and down with emphasis. “I wanted to talk to you about the friction created recently about my commitment.” Damn . She was so fucking beautiful. I knew this, yeah. But being in her presence while she was intent with her direct communication, Brielle’s features were striking.
“I sincerely apologize,” she continued. “Yes. I’ve been toxic in that manner in the past—or when the rare occasion presented itself. But my management team is responsible for bookings and maintaining my image. Nicky and I have our issues, but they shouldn’t get ahead of the business. Once I was told about the communications with you, I put a halt on the threats and talks of us pulling out. That was never a desire of mine. Shit. I never threatened not to show.”
“So, you had nothing to do with the dissention?”
She shook her head. “Not per se. My energy was involved in the request, just not my conscious. It was my manager doing the communicating.”
I chuckled, scratching the side of my face. “I’m sorry. I’m confused as hell.”
She laughed beautifully, appearing sincere with her energy. It was now clear to me. Brielle was vibrating high today. That was what I had been picking up on since laying eyes on her. “You got caught up in the politics. You caught a stray, Ishaan. It just wasn’t me who pulled the trigger physically. My team only operated in my best interest—the toxicity I’ve been operating in for years now. I’m making efforts to clean it up. Our actions were unprofessional and unnecessary. And for that, I’m truly sorry.”
“I appreciate that.” I brushed my palms down my legs. “Damn. I wasn’t expecting this.”
She laughed beautifully. “I know. You were expecting me to bitch about production or the food.”
“The temperature of the ocean or some shit,” I joked, and it had Brielle laughing her ass off. “Maybe the sun shines too bright at the eight o’clock hour. The water’s too wet. Something.”
“Ishaan!” her titter was so damn feminine and exposed those shallow dimples. “I’m not that bad. I have a team capable of righting last-minute wrongs.” She tried to slow her laughter. “No. Really. I’ve got a lot of work to do, I see. I’ve built the wrong image.”
That wasn’t exactly true. Brielle had a stellar reputation for her stage performances. She’d grown to be elusive in accepting invitations. She didn’t need them. She toured anticipatorily every few years and constantly sold-out arenas and stadiums across the globe. I was not being modest when thanking her for the opportunity. This deal was unprecedented.
I stood. It was time for me to go. Spending too much unplanned time in an unexpected place never sat well with me. My life was too hectic. There was always something pressing to tend to.
“Well, it’s always admirable to see someone endeavoring to better themselves.”
Brielle sighed then stood. “Yeah. This is the hardest shit I’ve done in my life.”
“What’s the work, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Shakily, she pulled in a breath, expressing her discomfort with sharing, “Conquering me. My demons—which are me.” She bit her lips together as she nodded. “I’m working on being good enough to invite good into my life.”
“What type of good? You’re Brielle.” Then I shook my head. “Look. I’m not fan-boyin’ over here. It really is a sincere question. You’re the quintessential Black woman. You’ve rested the hat of your brand on it.”
“Oh. I know.” She popped her head back, arching a brow. “Black, strong, fierce, fearless, the curator of my sexuality, the prize of my ancestors.” She continued, “The flawed, the imperfect, and the bruised. The woman.” Brielle nodded. “And right now, this woman is seeking balance.” She rolled her honeyed eyes. “Amongst other things.”
She wanted to share. I could sense it. “What more do you want?” My hand shot into the air. “No judgement here. But I’m struggling with Brielle’s world lacking anything. Unless you have a secret desire of becoming a mermaid.” She burst into laughter. “The first Black one?” I continued ribbing her.
“No, silly.” She flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder. As her line of sight fell, I noticed the faint yet beautiful moles on her face. She was makeup free this morning, and I wondered if that’s why I’m just discovering them. The trait enhanced her already heightened beauty. “I want companionship. And I don’t mean in a way of just having a man. I can get a man the moment I walk out into the street. I want equity.”
I spit out a breath, “Equity in earnings for Brie?—”
“No,” she interrupted me. “Not money. Money is transient. It’s but a tool. I’m talking about emotional equity. My best friend, the youngest, strongest woman I know is married. She’s a millionaire, and even though her partner is wealthy, too, I’ve been watching them. He would love her just the same if she was broke. He protects her in the room when sharks are lurking. And fuck! Do they lurk! If she’s gone for too long, he’s checking in. And not in a controlling manner. It’s in a possessive, protective way.”
Tori McNabb. It was known the boxing champ, and arguably the greatest performer of all time, were best friends. Tori was married to a fast-food magnet. Together, they were one of the wealthiest Black couples known .
Her eyes rolled up to me. “That’s my best friend’s lot of fortune. I don’t want it because she has it. I’m not in competition with her and will never be. I want it because she’s shown me, through action, it’s something I need. I want to be expected at the end of a long day. I want to be looked out for.”
“So, you want the age-old ideal life for a woman. Kids, too?”
Brielle exposed her insecurity once again, glancing away timidly. She shrugged again. “What’s wrong with that? Fuck! ” she whispered, covering her face. “I haven’t settled in my mind how it’s okay to want those simple things. I have so much work to do. See?” Brielle sniffled. “Having a partner…kids…”
“Quells your inhumanity,” I murmured, having an understanding even if it wasn’t a desire of mine. “It connects you to something outside of your selfish existence.” A tear dropped when Brielle began nodding. Her mouth was twisted, undermarking her vulnerable state. “Are you working with someone? Having an effective analyst or life coach can mean the difference between failure and success.”
Her forehead and lips lifted. “Not exactly. Just reading a few books and meditating.” She sniffled again and wiped her cheek.
“There’s a little more you can do. It’ll be great to have an accountability partner as well. Funny, I was just telling my girl I have an amazing therapist who tightens my screws as they loosen.” I used my index finger to circle near my ear. “I have someone I can throw your way if you can’t connect with one on your own.”
“ Uhh …” She blinked hard. “ Ya —yeah!”
“Cool. I’ll send the information over to Yvette.”
She walked away, traversing the room. “No. You send it to me directly. Let me grab my phone.” She returned to me. “What’s your number?”
As I rattled off my number—one of my A.D.J.E . powered lines—I read her energy. Brielle wasn’t flirting, but she was being direct. Once I got a text from her, I locked in her information.
“Now, let me send my girl’s contact info.” I tapped into my phone. “She’s top tier, leading in her field.”
“Shit. I’m nervous,” she whispered while snickering.
“Don’t be. Therapy’s some adult shit. Only kids get scared.” I heard her phone ping.
I damn near lost my breath when she leaped over to me with open arms. Brielle’s grip on my torso reminded me of the strength she had to possess to perform at the level she was known to.
“Thanks, Ishaan.”
My brows met while trapped in her bear hug. “You’re welcome?” I had no idea what I’d done but shared a number.
Either way, I had to go. Being alone with Brielle was a man’s fantasy. For me, it was a fantasy that couldn’t become my reality.
Brielle fell into a round of flowery laughter again, sniffling, and wiping her face. This woman was in pain. I knew it from my line of work. If she was all those things she shared in her female-empowering music, she was none of them this morning. But that wasn’t my problem. Like Brielle said, she needed a man to enhance and maintain her personal infrastructure.
“You’re good in my book.”
“Thanks for coming, Ishaan. And thanks for making me feel seen.”
I patted my chest, referencing respect. Then I pointed over my shoulder. “I’m going to see myself out.”
She nodded before I turned to take off. A few things came to mind as I tended to my vibrating phones, but one was more glaring than the others.
I referred to Hayden as my girl. To fucking Brielle?
Shit was wild as hell. Who would believe any of it?
“I mean…” Munchie walked beside me. “…would it have been a big deal for me to walk you in, then dismiss me for a private conversation?”
I snorted, shaking my head. We’d left the bungalows and were now entering into one of the primary towers of the resort. My mind had been in several places since leaving Brielle.
“Munch, I told you. Accosting her for pictures in her private area on the property ain’t appropriate.”
Damn, was it hot as fish grease today. It felt like ninety degrees already and so soon.
“But she asked you over to discuss business.”
As we entered the air-conditioned lobby, I was greeted right away by the staff mostly through nods, smiles, and pats on the chest. “And we did.”
“Then if that’s appropriate, how bad would one picture be?”
“She was getting those extension things put in.”
“Oh.” We made it to the elevators. “Maybe that would have been a bad time.”
“ Mmmmhmmm …” I hummed, sending a text to Munchie. The doors for one of the elevator cars opened and we stepped on. When the doors closed, I shared, “Munch, I just sent you a telephone number. Send it to Lieutenant Grands and Detective Greggs, who are in charge of Lavonte Harris’ murder case.”
“Whose number is it?”
I memorized that number so quickly while in bed this morning. “It’s a strong possible for Whitter.”
“Why would A.C.P.D. want Rob Whitter’s number?”
“The streets are saying he was there when Lavonte expired.”
She gasped, “How credible is that?”
“The Lieutenant mentioned it to me a few days ago.” I never told him Gus Amato had already made me aware of it and never would.
“What do you think they’ll do with the number?”
“Something we could do, but I don’t give a damn to. They’ll trace it to hopefully track his froggy ass down.”
I could’ve given the number to the Marinos, but didn’t exactly want the kid dead. Rob had been a menace since separating from KAHRI Resort & Casino, but he was harmless. I’d delivered the message I needed to him after snatching his ass up from the restaurant with Hayden. I had to let him know my business would not be played with by him or anyone else.
He’d crept into HAYDAR in Vegas, but I’d been told by one of my managers at Flare that he’d only been snooping around for job opportunities. Since learning this morning how he’d still had tentacles in my world, which was through Hayden, I had to do something. I didn’t think me looking for him and possibly killing his ass would sit well with Hayden. So, I’d let others who wanted Rob at him.
When the elevator chimed at our destination, Munchie was typing into her tablet. “Got it. I’m pulling up their numbers now. And I’m sure this is not to be left on a voicemail or proxy.”
“You’re correct.”
I stepped off the elevator and headed toward the presidential clubhouse. The door was already open when we approached.
“Oh, shit! Game time!” one of the gentlemen shouted then began jumping on his toes and wringing out his hands, appearing to ease nervous energy.
Super music producer, Tobias, whose back was toward us, was alerted to our presence. He turned to look over his shoulder, then smiled as he stood from the table where he was perched. “My guy!” he greeted me with a dap. “As busy as you are, you’re still capable of being on time.”
“Of course. This is a big weekend. We need all of our guests to feel important.”
“Oh, we do!” a different guy declared. “We most definitely do!” He stepped toward me. “By the way, Mr. Patterson, my name is Lito. I’m the second lead of 973 .” His shake was firm and impressive.
973 was an R&B group out of New Jersey—North Jersey, specifically. Tobias worked with my talent department and aided us with an opening act for tonight, which was the hottest ticket of the weekend. He supplied this five-member group and asked me to meet them. So, I made time.
One-by-one, they began to introduce themselves. And when I got to the final one, a kid named Lucas, he sang his name. Of course, that nigga was the leader of the group. I found it comical and corny at the same damn time.
“So, this is what you bring to entertain our Sun-Bronzed Maroon guests this weekend, huhn?” I asked.
“Yeah, man.” Tobias eyed the men who were now standing shoulder to shoulder. “This is my elite band. All members are vocal beasts. There are no Damion Halls, Mike Bivins, or Mr. Dalvins here. Each man has earned their spot in the group. And we’re grateful to get this huge and sacred opportunity to, first, be invited to the opening of Sun-Bronzed Maroon , but to also open for the greatest female performer of all time.”
The guys nodded and shouted their agreements. Next to me, Munchie smiled from ear-to-ear. She loved shit like this. Munch always rooted for the underdog. She pushed me to meet the guys, understanding it boosts morale.
“Well, you guys have my resourceful assistant here to thank. Munchie, here’s 973 .” I made the introduction.
“Oh, you’re Ms. Munchie?” Lito shouted excitedly, taking long lunges to shake her hand. “Tobe said we had an angel looking out for us.”
“Yeah,” another member cosigned.
They all shook her hand. Of course, Lucas had to upstage everyone and kiss her knuckles.
Then I held my arms out. “Okay, fellas. Let’s see what you’re working with?”
Without further explanation, Tobias turned to them. “You heard the man. Let’s go, 973 !” he shouted.
The guys managed their formation and Lito sang a few notes to prepare. Then they began belting harmonious notes of Dru Hill’s “Beauty” then transitioned into Silk’s “Lose Control,” two very old school gems.
Munchie encouraged them with shouts and groans, closed eyes, and the waving of her little hands. I was blown away. Strangely enough, when I’d gotten to BSU and began to get to know people, the guys admitted to having the wrong initial impression of me. So many of those dudes said, at first sight, they thought I was a pretty boy, R&B singing, ladies’ man. Boy, did they quickly learn just how wrong they were.
973 seemed to have sung from their souls. Tobias had something big on his hands.