Drama 99 FM (11 page)

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Authors: Janine A. Morris

BOOK: Drama 99 FM
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“Trust me, there won't be any problems with him. Maybe the girl you meet in here next game, but no problems with me.”
Mark seemed shocked that she had said something so bold. He started to laugh and put his hand over his mouth to contain his reaction.
“Don't worry, it's OK. It's nothing like that between me and him.”
“OK, I was about to say you are a tough cookie.”
Sereeta just laughed and looked out toward the court to see what was going on.
“And for the record, I'm in this box quite often, and you are the first lady Corey has ever brought up here.”
Sereeta looked at him to see if he was being serious, and then she turned away when she realized he was. She didn't want him to spot the flutter her heart had just made. She sat there thinking what the hell was wrong with her that she was even thinking this way all of a sudden—she knew she had to stop these thoughts before she got herself in trouble or lost her job.
“He has only been playing in New York for a few months, and besides, I work for him. I am his personal assistant.”
“Oh, really?” Mark said.
“Really, so don't go starting any rumors.”
Mark just laughed. “You know I was.”
The announcer began to announce the players as they exited the locker room and made their way to the court floor.
“You will be here alone?”
“A friend of mine will be meeting me soon, I hope.”
“You're trying to get me beat up in here,” he said.
“No, it's a girlfriend of mine. I'm single, Mark. I'm not trying to get anyone beat up.”
“Well, that's good news.”
“What's good news?”
“That you aren't trying to get me beat up and that you are single.”
“Good news for you or for me?”
“For me and hopefully for you.”
Sereeta liked this guy's swagger. He was six-two and brown skinned with a mustache and light goatee. He had a low fade with a part on the left side, dark brown eyes, a narrow nose, and full lips. He was definitely good-looking, but Sereeta was digging his carefree personality.
It was well into the first quarter before Reyna showed up, and by then Sereeta was realizing that she would've been just fine if she hadn't made it at all. It was like a perfect first date with Mark; they were laughing, talking, watching the game, and having a good time.
Reyna walked in and looked twice as nervous as Sereeta had before she'd met her new friend. Sereeta gestured to catch her attention and signal her over by her. Reyna walked up and stood over Sereeta and Mark. They both looked in her direction, but no one said anything right away. Reyna was dressed real cute; she had on some fitted 7 jeans with black knee boots and an orange Kani Ladies top. She stood there with an awkward smile, wondering if she was intruding on a private conversation. Sereeta looked up at her with the same devilish smirk and recognized Reyna giving her the eye, indicating her curiosity as to the identity of the cutie she was sitting with.
“Mark, this is my friend Reyna. Reyna, this is Mark,” Sereeta finally stated.
“Nice to meet you,” Mark said as he reached out his hand to shake Reyna's.
“You as well,” she said.
“Take a seat,” he said as he stood up.
Reyna hesitated not at all as she sat down in the seat he had emptied.
“I'll give you girls some alone time. I will be right over there for a while,” he said as he gestured to the empty seat by another young man in the room.
“Is that guy with you?” Sereeta asked Mark.
“That's Nate's cousin. We aren't technically together. . . but we kind of are.”
Reyna gave a look of confusion, but Sereeta continued to talk to Mark. “Why don't you and your friend come sit over here with us—you don't have to leave us alone.”
“It's OK. Besides, I don't know if he wants to move his seat and all.”
“OK, no problem,” Sereeta said. “I just didn't want you to feel that I was done with you now that my friend has arrived.”
“It's OK that you used me for company,” he said jokingly.
“It's not like that at all; you are welcome to come back over whenever you feel like it.”
Mark nodded his head with a giggle and walked away.
Reyna gave Sereeta one of her looks.
“What?” Sereeta asked.
“ ‘Come sit over here with us'? Is someone playing a desperate card?” Reyna said, looking at Sereeta out of the corner of her eye.
“Uh-uh! No, you didn't!” Sereeta laughed. “I was just trying not to be rude; he came over to keep me company when I was looking like Sad Suzie.”
“OK, I'm just saying. You up here in the skybox trying to catch you some high-quality fish.”
“Whatever, it's nothing like that.”
“Yeah, OK, Desperado.”
Sereeta just sucked her teeth and turned back toward the game. Corey was down there dribbling the ball up the court. He looked so miniature from where Sereeta sat until she looked up at the JumboTron and saw it zoom in on his face.
“That's your boss, right?” Reyna asked.
“Yeah,” she said, never taking her eyes off him.
“He
is
cute.”
“I guess.”
“Don't try to act like you never looked at him that way,” Reyna said.
“I don't. He walked me up here tonight; if you were on time you could've met him.”
“He walked you up—like, personally escorted you? Ah, shit.”
“Knock it off, it was nothing like that.”
Sereeta knew she was fronting and didn't know why. The truth was that prior to tonight, she really hadn't seen Corey in that light. She had been more afraid of him than attracted to him. Even though she'd had a glimpse of temptation tonight, she didn't want to entertain the thought—not one bit. She knew Corey was an all-business kind of guy, and she didn't want to mess up her job in any way.
Chapter 18
M
adison walked in the house and was stopped in her tracks by the darkened room and sweet scents. She slowly closed the door behind her and tried to take in the ambience of the room. There were dozens of tea-light candles everywhere all over the porch and living room. She didn't see Jamahl anywhere in sight, but she knew he was responsible for this, although it was so out of character. The sounds of Brian McKnight swayed through the air, and the smell of something tasty in the oven filled her nose. Madison was excited. No one had ever done anything like this for her before, and it was the last thing she expected from Jamahl Walker.
She saw a note on the table that read
Read Me.
A smile covered her face. She opened it up.
Go upstairs, take a shower, change into something comfortable, and meet me back in the living room in thirty minutes
.
Don't be late.
Madison set the card down, tossed her purse on the porch chair, and headed upstairs. She could feel the butterflies in her stomach like she was a little girl. She didn't know what had caused him to do this for her—their anniversary and her birthday were months away. She got to the bedroom and saw a trail of rose petals leading to the bathroom. Madison stopped once again, just looking at each rose petal—some were red, some were yellow, and some were white. She began to wonder if this was even Jamahl's doings—had Polytics kidnapped him and planned this out, or was this a trick on her from God to make her feel guilty for what she had done with Polytics while her boyfriend was at home?
Initially, she was wondering where he was hiding. Was he in one of the bedrooms or in one of the rooms downstairs? Suddenly her excitement began to fade, and her guilt began to heighten. She undressed slowly as she thought a million things about how horrible she was. She kicked off her black ankle boots and removed her black slacks and blue and black cardigan. She took out a bobby pin and pinned her hair up. She couldn't believe that only weeks after she had resorted to sleeping with another man for some attention, Jamahl had decided to go do the most romantic thing he had ever done for her.
Damn,
she said to herself.
She almost wished she had a time machine to go back and fix her actions. She knew that what she had done had not only risked her job, but it had risked her relationship with the one man who had stood by her side through all these years. She knew she was no walk in the park—a lot of times she brought her job home with her. A lot of times she forgot that her title of
boss
was only at the office, and Jamahl wasn't her staff, so when she would talk down to him or treat him like he was beneath her, he didn't like it one bit. She knew it took a man with confidence to be with a woman like her. Not only was she strong-minded and out of control half the time, she had a hard time with any level of submission. It didn't help that she was surrounded by rich and famous men who most men would easily be jealous of and feel insecure about, and she made no efforts to comfort him. When she really thought about it, Jamahl was a good man to even still be dealing with her, let alone planning romantic nights. She knew it was messed up that it had taken her cheating on him and to come home to this for her to appreciate him.
She stood in the shower, washing away all her guilt in hopes of meeting Jamahl in the living room with a smile on her face. She stepped out of the shower and walked back to her bedroom. She didn't know if Jamahl was in one of the other bedrooms on that floor or if he was going to jump out and surprise her at any point. She was just hoping to clear her mind of all the negative thoughts and guilt so she could fully appreciate all he had planned. She put on a purple teddy nightgown; not really sure what he meant by
change into something comfortable,
she chose to go with what she thought he would like to see. She combed her hair down, lotioned up, and sprayed on some Smell Goods.
Madison looked at the clock and saw that she had three minutes to go before she would be late. She walked out of the bedroom and began to head downstairs. Just the scent of the food and the sight of the romantic candlelit scene below her was enough to put her in a good mood again. She stepped into the living room, where she saw the table set and a note on her plate. She walked over to the table and picked up the note.
Take a seat, enjoy the wine, and listen to the music. I will be with you shortly
. Madison smiled again. She pulled out the oak-wood chair and sat down on the soft plush cushion. There were two glasses of white wine on the table, a bouquet of roses in the center, and two tall dinner candles. Madison had to admit she couldn't have done a better job if she had set this up herself.
She sat back, resting her head on the tall back of the chair, sipping on her wine. She felt sexy in her nightie, sitting in the candlelight in the living room of her three-quarters-of-a-million-dollar house. A few minutes went by, and she heard a noise. She slowly looked over the back of the chair, but she didn't see anything. The song on the CD player changed to another, and Brian began to croon his song, “Never Felt This Way,” one of Madison's favorites. She could feel the chill go up her spine. She was anticipating seeing Jamahl even more now, but she still couldn't see him. She could hear him in the kitchen, so she assumed he was preparing their plates. She rested her head back on the chair once again with her eyes closed, trying to sit patiently and let him take charge for once without trying to be the boss. She was realizing she liked how it felt. She just sat back, waiting for him to run the show. She took a sip of her wine.
A few moments later, she heard footsteps. She remained still with her head leaned back and eyes closed until she heard them even closer. She finally opened her eyes, and there he was standing in front of her. She didn't know if it was thinking all the lovely thoughts or just that the barber had hooked him up, but Jamahl was standing there looking fine as hell. He was wearing a wife-beater tank top and some black lounge pants. His full lips looked Vaseline smooth, and he just looked ready for loving—maybe it was the candlelight or the wine, but Madison wanted him. She was too horny to notice that the look on his face didn't match the mood of the night. He looked upset. She looked down and saw her work BlackBerry in his hand.
“What's wrong?” she asked.
“You tell me,” he said. He extended his arm and opened his hand, passing Madison the work BlackBerry. She looked at it, and there was an e-mail from Polytics. I miss you, baby, when can I see you again. I have been horny all day thinking about you. Madison's mouth dropped open as she tried to think of something to say, but nothing was coming out.
“It was vibrating by your purse in the porch. I was going to bring it to you. I didn't know that I would intercept you and your boyfriend's plans,” he said in an attempted calm tone.
“Jamahl,” she said. “I know this looks crazy.”
“Who the fuck is that?” he said, not paying her plea one bit of attention.
“Jamahl—” she said.
“
Who
the fuck is that!?”
Madison knew he was real pissed off. In most situations she would never allow him to talk to her like this, but in this instance—where she was dead wrong and she could clearly see that he wasn't playing at all—she knew this was not the time to get angry. Madison wasn't prepared to tell him the truth, though. She knew it would sound even crazier telling him it was Polytics, one of the biggest rappers in the game, hitting his girl on the BlackBerry saying he was horny. He would never believe it was innocent, so though she contemplated coming clean, she knew this was the time to lie.
“He's just some guy who works at a label who has been trying to holler at me. There is nothing going on, though,” she said.
Madison was thankful that she coded the names in her phone—Polytics was entered in as “PC, Intheloop Records.” She didn't like leaving people's full names or artist names in case her phone was lost or stolen. She knew some crazy teenager would have a ball just calling up Russell Simmons's house and Jay-Z's cell phone. She had been coding celebrity names for years, so she knew Jamahl wouldn't question the secret name—or he would wonder why a regular-label person was coded. Either way it didn't matter—she was calculating her story in her head, and she was damn sure sticking to it.
“When is he going to see you again?” he asked.
“I don't know, Jamahl. I hardly ever see him. I don't even know why he sent this,” she said.
“Call him right now and find out why.”
That caught Madison way off guard. She looked down at the phone and acted as if his request was no problem for her, but then she didn't know how to get out of that.
“He is my colleague. I don't want to make a scene here,” Madison said.
“This isn't causing a scene. He just sent you a text that's crazy—he already caused a scene,” he said.
Madison had to agree. Here they were in the middle of their candlelit house about to embark on an extremely romantic evening, and now they were standing there arguing over this e-mail. Madison's heart was beating; her shower was becoming irrelevant as her perspiration levels increased. She couldn't believe how fast the tables had turned. Moments prior she had been looking forward to one of the most romantic nights of her life, and now here she was on the verge of possibly getting caught in a huge lie and losing her boyfriend of six years. She wished that she didn't care, that she could put up her tough-girl wall and dominate this situation, but she couldn't. Something inside her was broken down; she was scared shitless and didn't know what to do.
“I am not calling him. This is silly,” she said, rising from her chair.
“Then I will call,” he said as he reached for her phone.
“No, you are not,” she said and jerked the phone from his reach. “This is silly, and I can't believe you would ruin this beautiful night with this insecure nonsense.”
She began to walk toward the staircase, knowing that her attempt at reverse psychology had a slight chance of working because it was the oldest trick in the book. She headed up the stairs, back to where she had tried to shake her feelings of guilt, only to revisit them full force. She was hungry, but she was just going to have to eat later because if she wanted to get out of this without being fully exposed, she was going to have to stick to her stance of being disgusted, disappointed, and mad. She was just hoping it was a matter of time before he would begin to second-guess himself and let it go.

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