Beware of Boys (10 page)

The officer reared back her head, flaring her nostrils. Then looked around. Paranoia was all over her face, and she threw up her hands in the air as if she were surrendering. “I didn't touch her!” she yelled to a male officer headed their way. From his badge and other decorations, he looked like he was her superior.

“Betty! What are you doing?” he spat.

Charly had hit a nerve. “Officer, please help me!” Charly pushed. “All we were doing is trying to get to this event for girls. An event I was hired to help with. I gave my phone to the other cop, showed him the news article—the officer who's over there with Whip. Please read it and please keep this lady away from me and my driver. She said she was going to lock us both up!” Charly looked at Betty. “And for what? Helping little girls?” She shook her head. “Bad press. Really bad press. I'm sure the news stations out here would love to get this story.”

“Let her go, Betty. She's telling the truth. I read it for myself, and they both checked out. Whip was just doing his job. This time.”

T
he ride to the event was quiet, and Whip drove slowly. He turned the corner, and barely drove a mile before they finally stopped. With shaking hands, Charly opened her door and breathed deeply. She had to gather herself before she threw herself into what was the rest of her day.

“Over there,” Whip said, pointing. He clearly had no intention of getting out and helping her. “And thanks . . . you know, for back there. If you hadn't've pushed, I'd be in jail this time, not juvie.”

“No, if I hadn't pushed you to drive me . . .” Charly nodded, then looked in the direction of the event. “So, that's it?” she asked. How was she supposed to know where “over there” was. He'd pointed and retracted his hand so quickly, she didn't see.

“Gotcha.” He hopped out of the SUV, then quickly made his way to her door, opening it. “You did get me off by calling me your driver. Maybe, after Lex cools off about this, he'll tip me. He should just because I got you here in record time. It's over a thirty-minute ride. I gotcha here in under fifteen—if you subtract the one-on-one time with the cops.” Whip laughed, back to his normal self.

Charly just shook her head, looking at him and smiling. She'd wondered how someone as professional as Lex had people like Whip and Bobsy in his camp. Now she knew why Whip was there; Lex was looking out for his family and keeping Whip out of trouble. Bobsy, though, was still in question. “Thanks, Whip. It was an experience,” she complimented him facetiously, and slid out of the SUV, landing softly on the sidewalk. She headed in the way he'd pointed.

“Cool,” Whip said from behind. “And in case you need me, you know I'll be right here. If the cops catch me driving home without one of you guys in the car, my freedom is a wrap! And when Lex finds out, I'm a wrap too! So I'm just gonna chill and deal with him when this thing is over.” He laughed.

Charly stopped and looked down at her shoes, feeling them for the first time.
Stilts
. That's what it felt like she was walking on. She hadn't noticed what they'd felt like before because she'd been in a panic from running late, then dealing with the cops. Now she was aware of them. As soon as her feet connected with the ground, she'd instantly grown five inches, thanks to the high heels pushing her to model-tall height. She was that physically elevated, and emotionally too, she noted, due to making it to the event and the eagerness rushing through her. In seconds, she'd be in the company of television cameras and girls, and Faizon and Lex, whom she was most excited about.

“Hmm,” she moaned, looking around and wincing at the noise of traffic and songs that filled the air. Music genres clashed, growing louder as vehicles neared her, then the volumes lowered as they made their way down the street. It was a cyclical process of R & B tunes merging with hip-hop, hip-hop fighting with hardcore rap, and dashes of old-school tracks blending into a hodgepodge of melodies that weren't too melodic. Charly shook her head as cars whizzed by. Each seemed to have a different flavor of music blaring through its speakers, and all contained passengers that she wouldn't trust. They looked like dealers, addicts, or thieves. No, she couldn't be in the right place, that's what her gut told her. Not for a celebrity event. Something was off. She turned toward Whip, who was still waiting by the SUV, and threw him a quizzical look. She was standing in front of what appeared to be a construction site, on a not-so-appealing side of town or street, which was littered and run-down, lined with buildings that had seen better days. Better structures were on the other side, so she was sure her destination had to be over there or around the corner or anywhere else, but certainly not close to where she stood. There was no way the guys were hosting anything in such an unsafe place. Not with their level of celebrity.

Whip nodded his head, then tipped his baseball hat toward the fence. “Yeah, that's the way, Charly. Right through there. I'd come help you, but you know I can't,” he yelled, indicating that her destination was through an opening in a chain link fence that she guessed was over ten-feet tall. It had bright orange strips woven through the diamond shaped openings and caution signs posted on it that prevented her view of what was behind it.

“Really?” she questioned loudly, hoping to be heard over a hip-hop track, and made her way toward two metal posts that were haphazardly situated as an opening that looked anything but safe. Walking carefully, she begged her legs not to wobble when she stepped off the smooth concrete sidewalk and through the fence opening, which she thought led to the event, but it didn't. About ten feet ahead, a tall wrought-iron gate with brick columns and bushes and flowers planted in front of it, met her eyes. The beauty of it said it was new, and she exhaled, feeling better about what she was walking into, though she was still too far away to see the happenings behind the gate. The sun shone brightly, and laughter of children tickled her ears. Things suddenly didn't seem so gloomy.

Still, the dirty rocky path challenged her steadiness as she moved forward, bopping her head as the song's volume increased with each step. The cracked cement and rocks crackled and popped under her feet, making her gain more appreciation for good-quality shoes. Though she was elevated to the height of a giant in them and the rubble moved under her steps, her soles felt as if they were resting on clouds.

“What in the . . . ?” Her eyes widened. Her jaw dropped. Her knees locked, preventing her from progressing. The wind caught in her throat. The massive stretch of land that she'd finally set her vision on made her feet hurt because she knew her heels were going to stick in the grass. Already, she could feel the pain and swelling they were certain to endure, and she hadn't even crossed the event threshold.

Eden appeared between the two brick pillars, walking through the wrought-iron fence. She looked up and stopped. She smiled, putting one hand to her chest, surprised. “Wow, I was just stepping away to call you. There's too much noise back there for me to hear.” She pointed behind her. “And I needed to check on you and see how you were making out. I guess Lex's formula worked. I'm glad you made it. I was starting to worry. How'd you get here?” She made her way closer to Charly.

Charly nodded, then shook her head. She looked down at the shoes she had been sure weren't going to cause her a problem, and already knew she'd predicted wrong. Sneakers would've been wiser. Her shin-high leather boots would've been more ideal. The open makeshift field was lined with animal pens, inflatable bouncing houses, and what appeared to be building construction going on behind a barricade way in the back—all on the dirty, grassless, ground with puddles of sandy mud. “Whip brought me. I was okay, but now I don't think so,” she was saying as Eden neared.

“I had a feeling you'd show so I've been keeping this with me ever since I got here because you're going to need it, and, somehow, they keep disappearing. I guess people think the pink's fashionable. Here you go . . . ?” Eden said, cutting her sentence short and handing Charly a construction hat that matched the one she wore, and a matching T-shirt. “Oh.” She scanned her eyes over Charly's wardrobe, then looked at her own. She was dressed in holey jeans, Timberland boots, and a pink T-shirt that read E
MPOWER
Y
OUTH
: T
HE
G
RIME TO
S
HINE
project. “I . . . I . . .” Eden stopped, clearly at a loss for words.

Charly looked down at the long, flowing halter dress she wore, then surveyed her surroundings once more before locking eyes with Eden. “What's going on, Eden? I thought this was supposed to be some sort of publicity event or something. You did say a gala.” She hiked her purse on her shoulder. “And is there a place I can put this? Do we have any lockers or anything for our valuables?”

Eden nodded, then shook her head no. “You're definitely going to want to lock up that bag. It's very expensive, and I can show you where you can put it away. And yes, yesterday I did mention a gala event, but I said later, later meaning later during your visit. Not today. And this is an event for the girls. It's the guys' Youth Empowering Youth event, where the less fortunate teens, help the even less fortunate children.” She turned, moving her hand through the air. “Back through there—you might be able to see if you tiptoe—the crew and some of our girls, the ones who've battled and won. Everyone has on pink, and the assistants have on red shirts. The girls are here helping; they're giving back by working on the Grime to Shine project. Didn't Bobsy tell you yesterday?” Eden turned back to Charly, then looked down at the T-shirt she wore, pointing at the words on it. “That's why there's the petting zoo, the bouncy house, and over there, way in the back, that's where the grime was, the building they tore down and where the new clubhouse, appropriately named Shine—”

“—is going up now, right in front of my eyes,” Charly finished for Eden, straining to get a look. “I see. So,” Charly said, deciding to make the best of it and not be a baby about it. She'd just have to put the shirt on over her dress. “Let's get to the Shine. I came here to work.”

Eden just shook her head. She looked at her feet, then to Charly's. “How? You can't do construction in those shoes, or that dress. Lucky for you, some of us are breaking, so we have time to go find you a pair.”

“Charly? Charly, is that you?” a voice yelled, songlike, reminding Charly of one of the Marley brothers. “I was wondering if you were going to show up. You're late, gal!”

Charly closed her eyes, loving the accent. She knew whom the voice belonged to, and just hearing it made the pain she was sure her feet were going to soon suffer worth it. “Faizon! Yes, it's me,” she said, smiling and turning around. She admired that he was man enough to wear pink, and thought it looked good against his mocha complexion. She did question his facial hair though. He looked like the caveman in the car insurance commercial. “Yes, me, late and dressed all wrong as you can see. But it's all good.”

Faizon sauntered up to her, smiling. He took the baseball hat he wore off his head, then ran his hand over his wild hair that looked like it hadn't been cut in eons. He licked his lips before he spoke again, revealing a small gap between his teeth that she could barely see because of his full mustache and beard. “You? Late? Dressed wrong? Nah, mama. You kidding me? Even if you're running late, you're always on time. Nah'mean? Anyway, we breaking for a half hour, so you're not late. And you can never be dressed wrong.” He stuck his hand out, waving it over the actions going on around the huge lot. “If anything, this isn't decorated to suit you, not the other way around.” He licked his lips again, looking Charly up and down. “If I'd have known you'd be wearing yellow, I'd have planted more flowers to match your outfit. Yep, yo boy helped finish the fence this morning, and did some of the planting. This area here will be a circular drop-off area where some cars and busses can park. That's why we got two fences up. The ugly orange one will be removed when they lay the cement. I hope you like.” He took two steps forward, then wrapped his arms around Charly, rocking her from side to side as if they were old friends or boyfriend and girlfriend. “We're actors, mama. That's why I look like this. I got to get ready for my full facial hair role. That means we can act through anything, even being able to plant. Ya dig? And the fun part of the day is just really getting started. No worries, man. You're here in time for the girls.”

Charly laid her head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent. She felt like she was in the middle of a soap opera scene or a fairytale, being saved by Mr. Right or a knight. She almost moaned, fighting with herself to remove her face from the fabric of Faizon's shirt. He smelled nice, and felt even better, which is why she had to disconnect from him. It wasn't that she was wrapped up in him, though he was definitely appealing enough to tempt her to become so. “Let's just hope I can
act
like my feet don't hurt later.” She laughed.

“Wow,” Faizon said, looking Charly in the eyes after she'd summoned the strength to disconnect from him. “Careful, mama, that acting thing really works for me. You're going to make a brother feel special and forget professional boundaries,” he joked, then smiled.

Charly's lips spread, revealing her teeth. “Well, why would I want to do that?”

“Do what?” Lex asked, walking through the brick pillars and making his way over to them. He had a hammer in his hand and a tool belt around his waist, and he wore a pink shirt too. He stopped, then raked his golden eyes up and down, taking Charly in in one whoosh, nodding in appreciation. “So that's your magic trick to keep your legs tight, huh? You don't just do yoga, like you said. You work out,” he began, then turned around and waved the hammer around the lot, indicating the surroundings. He turned back toward her. “Doing construction in stilettos, or whatever they're called—that's athletic in my opinion.” He winked. “And I can dig it. It works for you. I can also dig when you've lost a bet. You did, right? You feel better.”

Eden cleared her throat. “I have to get Charly some shoes. I don't think Bobsy told her what to wear, Lex.”

The twinkle in Lex's golden eyes died. “I didn't bring Bobsy on board to make sure Charly is taken care of, Eden. I got you the gig.”

“But Lex, I gave her the itinerary,” Eden began. She had a plastered smile on her face, and she looked frazzled and something else Charly couldn't put her finger on. It wasn't fear that registered, and it wasn't embarrassment, but something was definitely looming under the surface.

Charly stepped up, moving toward Lex. She swished her dress as much as she could to get his attention, hoping to break the uncomfortable vibe that was penetrating the air. He wasn't being mean to Eden, but she didn't want Eden to take heat for a minor miscommunication. She had shown her the itinerary, and Charly had asked if they could go over it later, so it wasn't Eden's fault. It was hers. “She's telling the truth, Lex. She gave me the itinerary yesterday morning.” She owned her wrongdoing, then turned the tables on him. “Maybe if you hadn't've worked me out so hard, I would've remembered . . . and I wouldn't have overslept from being exhausted and taking your juice. I apologize for being late today,” she sang, stabbing him in his granite-hard chest with her index finger. Lex nodded, and his demeanor lightened. “And, if it helps, Bobsy mentioned the project too. I just . . . well, it doesn't matter. I'm here. Let's get to it.” She began to walk away, then her heel sank into the dirt. In one second, her fear of crashing was becoming a reality, not because of speeding while riding, but because of speeding while walking. She released her construction hat and T-shirt from her grip, opening her palms to soften her fall.