Chapter 28 #2
“Bitch, you better get your finger outta my face. I don’t give a fuck who your husband is,” Bishopp bellowed, making Kiara rear back.
As she regained her balance, only a slight twitch in her right eyebrow betrayed any nerves.
She calmly turned and flicked her chin once toward a corner of the room.
In eight seconds, what looked like the entire Giants’ defensive line dressed in black suits appeared, ringing Kiara.
“Well, somebody cares,” Kiara spoke carefully, not taking her eyes from Bishopp’s face.
“Yeah, all right, ma. No need to trip.” Bishopp smoothly switched his tone. Then he looked back at me. “But this bitch…”
Out of nowhere, a man appeared and stepped between me and Bishopp.
I was so shocked to see him that it took me a second to process who it was standing in front of me with balled-up hands and a livid expression.
But when he spoke, I immediately recognized Derek’s voice—and registered the absolute absurdity that our last conversation had been about the very person he seemed about to confront.
“Yo, if you call one more woman a bitch,” Derek said with more bass in his voice than I’d heard before. “I think you heard the ladies. You need to back up and chill out.”
Bishopp sized him up. Derek stood a full four inches taller and was filling out his royal-blue suit and crisp white shirt.
His beard made him seem older than Bishopp, but his clenched fists implied youthful reckless energy.
Bishopp hesitated but quickly remembered that half the party was watching their exchange.
He jabbed a finger in Derek’s chest. “I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you probably don’t want any part of this. ”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Derek told him, batting away his finger. “But you probably don’t want to try me.”
“Man, fuck this shit,” Bishopp yelled. “Square up, nigga.” He swung on Derek, who blocked his fist with a quick move that left Bishopp on the floor.
I could feel a surge from Bishopp’s crew as they pushed forward to defend their boy, but the defensive line around Kiara intervened too quickly for any more fists to be thrown.
One of them grabbed Bishopp’s lapel and lifted him off the floor like a rag doll.
The rest muscled Bishopp’s crew toward the door.
When they were gone and the spectators dispersed, Von, Kiara, Derek, and I stood there for a minute, staring at each other in disbelief.
My hands were shaking, and I was surprised by the sudden wetness on my cheeks.
Von was the first to speak. “I’m getting us some tequila shots. ”
“Thank you,” I mouthed as I struggled to regain my composure. I let Kiara wrap me in a hug.
“That was legit crazy,” Kiara whispered. “But you’re good now.”
“Shit, I think you handled that, Nikki!” Derek held his hand up for a high five. “Way to not back down.”
I gave Derek a weak smile and touched my moist palm to his. “I don’t think I handled that at all. But you sure did. I appreciate you jumping in with the karate moves.”
Kiara raised her eyebrows and looked thoughtfully from me to Derek and back. “Actually, that looked like aikido,” she said. “Ricky’s been studying it for years.”
Derek nodded, clearly impressed. “Good eye. I’m a black belt. Comes in handy when people get out of hand in court,” he quipped.
I’d forgotten they’d never met. “Ki, Derek works with my girl Teresa at the New York County Defender Services. Derek, this is Kiara Matsumoro. She runs a PR firm—and this is her husband’s party.”
They shook hands, then Kiara gave me one more quick squeeze. “All right, folks, crisis averted.” She pointed to her headset as someone was evidently talking to her. “I’m off to deal with more drama.”
When she left, Derek led me to a chair. “Hey, what are you doing at this party?” I asked him. “Doesn’t seem like your scene.”
Derek paused. “Remember I told you that I’m dating someone who works in music? She’s a producer at MTV. In fact, I should probably go find her. I was just going to make a cocktail run and now I’ve been gone for twenty minutes.”
I blinked at him a few times before realizing I needed to say something.
“Oh, cool. Well, I mean, don’t leave her waiting,” I said, instead of what I really wanted to ask: Who is she?
What exactly does she produce at MTV? What does she look like?
How long have you been together? What’s her astrological sign?
Von had returned with four tequila shots, so I grabbed two and handed them to Derek. “Here, Kiara’s gone, so bring these to your girl.” My tone was a little too clipped, so I softened it. “You can say you wanted to get the party going before you guys start cocktailing.”
Derek stood there, holding both shots, exploring my face.
The longer he stood there, the less I wanted him to walk away.
I downed the tequila shot Von brought me and moved to give Derek a hug goodbye.
But suddenly, a frantic energy rippled through the room, and a weird number of rings and beeps quickly grew into a reverberating roar.
My two-way went off right as Von’s started to buzz.
“What the hell,” I said, flipping open the pager. There was an all-caps message from Sondra: JUST HEARD FROM A LABEL SOURCE THAT BOBBIE WASHINGTON DIED IN A CAR CRASH. I’M CONFIRMING WITH HER MANAGER BUT THIS IS REAL.
I looked at Von on his phone and asked, “Bobbie?” He nodded, eyes wide. My heart broke.
The news of Bobbie’s death was a conflagration that engulfed the party.
It was mayhem. People were rushing around, gripping each other, and weeping.
She wasn’t only my favorite singer; Bobbie Washington was one of the most beloved neo soul artists charting on Billboard.
Bobbie had not only recorded multiple critically acclaimed albums and several major hits; she’d written “Independent Heart,” an anthemic song that got every woman to the dance floor whenever a DJ played it.
Denyse liked to request “Independent Heart” anytime we’d all meet up at Sofie’s, and my girls and I had danced to it more times than I could remember.
This loss was a jagged tear in both the fabric of the culture and in my emotional universe.
I saw Kiara near the DJ booth, then the music went silent.
Without thinking, I walked over and asked if I could have the mic for a minute.
She wordlessly handed it over, too upset to ask what I was about to do.
I surprised myself by tapping the mic and saying clearly, “Everyone, may I ask you to be still for a minute so we can honor Bobbie Washington? Let’s take a moment of silence for this inspiring artist who empowered so many women to stay strong and follow their dreams.”
I handed the mic back to the DJ, grabbed Kiara’s hand, and walked to the dance floor where a cross section of women at the event—platinum artists to label execs to video vixens to bartenders—were spontaneously gathering.
Instead of the usual skeptical speculation, I saw respect and appreciation in their collective gaze.
The woman from the Eternal Records publicity department sidled up to me and looped her arm through mine.
Another woman I didn’t recognize linked arms with me on my other side.
It continued until we all locked arms in a large circle that felt like a group hug.
After a few minutes, I reluctantly broke free, shook off my heartache, and got to work.
I found Sondra, asked Von to call the team to have everyone meet us at the office.
We were a week away from putting the November issue to bed, and we would now have to pull the entire issue apart to crash a tribute special for Bobbie.
It was about to be all hands on deck for the next seven days.
With the whole party now spilling onto the street below, I knew we wouldn’t be able to get a taxi.
JJ hadn’t reappeared since Bishopp accosted me, but I didn’t have time to dwell on why he’d abandoned me.
I needed a ride. Sondra, Von, and I were casting about for a solution when my eyes met Derek’s across the room.
I didn’t have to wave him over; he leaned down to say something to a beautiful but scowling woman with red box braids, then hurried my way.
“What do you need?” Derek asked as he approached.
“A ride to our office,” I told him. “I’m meeting my team there tonight to figure out what we’re doing for Bobbie.”
“My Jeep is parked a few blocks away. I’ll meet you downstairs in ten.”
As we made our way outside Matsumoro SoHo and up the street so Derek could pull his Jeep over more easily, I saw JJ hanging out of his parked Porsche, waving his hands to get my attention. I told Von and Sondra I’d be right back.
“For real, JJ? I am not in the mood,” I told him, leaning into the passenger window so only he could hear me. “You fucking left me there, knowing full well that Bishopp was on the attack. And now you show up after Bobbie Washington dies? I don’t have time for this right now.”
“You know, Nikki, despite how you’ve been treating me lately, I’m here to do you a favor.” JJ’s expression was annoyed instead of contrite, which made me even more mad.
“How I’ve been treating you? I know you’re mad that I didn’t give you a heads-up about the Bishopp story. But what did you expect? I didn’t want to hear anything about ‘innocent until proven guilty’ or how important Bishopp is to the label.”
JJ snorted derisively. “Oh, word? You didn’t want to hear the truth? Gotcha.”
“Jerome Jermaine, that was statutory rape at the minimum. And you know it.”
“I don’t know shit,” JJ insisted, his eyes hard. “Do you not even think there’s a possibility that chick is just waiting to file a civil suit that will set her kids’ kids up for life? I been around these hos and I know how they think.”
“‘These hos’? That was a sixteen-year-old high school junior in her big sister’s clothes.
” I hit his car window for emphasis. Sondra and Von were trying not to stare so I breathed deep to calm down.
“And the way Bishopp was rolling up on me at the hotel, I can see exactly how the whole thing went down.”
“Wait, why were you at his hotel? Now I gotta worry about you too?”
My mouth fell open. “Worry about me? Or worry about me getting with your boy? I mean, so you know, he did make his best effort, JJ. But I was there for work.”
“That hasn’t always stopped you in the past.”
And there it was: the Alonzo reference I’d been waiting for this whole time. “You know what, JJ? You definitely do not have to worry about me anymore.”
“What are you saying? You don’t want to hang out?” He was incredulous.
“I don’t trust you, JJ.”
JJ nodded slowly, his outrage only evident in the stiff set of his jaw. “You don’t trust me? After I showed you the ropes? Man, I really was trying to give you a leg up. I even showed you off. You think I normally do that shit?”
I didn’t feel like asking why I should be honored that he wasn’t ashamed to be seen with me.
I was about to turn and leave when he said, “A’ight, Nikki.
But let me give you a heads-up about Bishopp.
That muthafucka was serious when he said he was going to sue you.
I tried to reason with him, but he wasn’t trying to hear it.
That boring-looking suit going all Bruce Lee on him did not help. ”
The fine hairs on my neck bristled. “That boring-looking suit might be the only reason that Bishopp didn’t haul off and hit me.”
“You’re being dramatic, Nik. He wasn’t gonna hit you in the middle of an event.” JJ rolled his eyes at me. “Don’t get me wrong, Bishopp was mad as a mofo. But I doubt he would have actually hit you.”
“You ‘doubt’? Because you seemed pretty shook at the idea of a confrontation,” I retorted. “And you think I’m being dramatic about what happened? I guess that explains why you haven’t apologized for doing nothing while Bishopp jumped down my throat.”
JJ and I glared at each other, breathing heavy. “Are you going to get in this fucking car or what?” he snarled.
The last time I saw the inside of Alonzo’s Range Rover flashed through my mind. “Why are you so pressed? You were the one who wanted this to be an undefined ‘thing.’”
JJ briefly closed his eyes. Then he pressed his lips together and exhaled before saying, “I did, and now I don’t. As much as I wish it were different, you stay on my mind.”
The weird thing was that even though I believed what he was saying, it made me trust him even less.
JJ had grown up in the industry and it was clear that the baller had been baked into him.
His moral compass was too skewed to even process what loyalty looked like.
Then again, I’d still betrayed our friendship by not giving him some advance warning of my takedown of Bishopp.
“We’re not … good together, JJ.” I shook my head and sighed. “I mean, we are, but this isn’t going to end better down the road, so we might as well call it quits now.”
After a long silence, JJ shrugged and put his hand on the gearshift.
I could feel the car coming to life. “You know who needs to apologize?” JJ pulled his seat belt over his shoulder.
“You do, to Bishopp.” I must have looked taken aback because he nodded exaggeratedly.
“Yes, Nikki, you. You should try to say you’re sorry before this blows up even bigger. ”
“You know I won’t do that.”
“Your choice, then. I guess I won’t worry about you.” The passenger window rose in my face. The last thing I saw before he peeled away was my uneasy reflection in the glass.