Preseason Love (11 page)

By night's end, I was tired and ready to go. I did not have to stay the whole time with Romero, but I felt that I should since I was filling in for someone else. I did not want any issues.

As we were walking out of the party, Romero asked me if I wanted a ride. It was only he and Slick rolling in this seven-passenger SUV, so I accepted. My girl Sydney, from The Clique, was in town for work, and I had plans to meet up with her. A ride was what I needed.

When we approached the exit to the club, I looked around to see where Slick was, but I could not spot him. I asked Romero where he was and he had no clue. I told him to hop in the car. I would look out for Slick.

After standing around for a few minutes, I spotted him—he was cupcakin' with a groupie. I should have known, so disrespectful. The way I looked at it, if you were not financing anything, then you made moves quickly and you kept up with the program and you definitely didn't keep people waiting.

He and the groupie girl walked in my direction. They were
laughing and carrying on like two teens after the prom. She had on a hot-pink spandex dress with a head full of synthetic black extensions and uncontrollable boobs spilling out of her dress.

Slick walked up to me. “This is Keisha. She's rolling with us.”

He almost said it as if he expected me to challenge him. His tone said
I dare you,
but my facial expression said
I don't care.

Romero must have connected with his late-night lady friend and decided that he wanted to get dropped off at her place. We dropped him off first. Now it was only the lovebirds and me. Spectacular! They actually seemed to be quite familiar with each other like this was not a first-time encounter. Pink dress was polite but did not say too much.

My stop was next. I planned to meet Sydney near where she was staying at the Hotel on Rivington on the Lower East Side. She was hanging out with some peeps at a dive bar close to her hotel. I wasn't exactly sure where the bar was, so I instructed the driver to drop me off at the corner closest to the hotel.

Slick had to get out of the car in order to let me out. As I climbed out of the farthest backseat, I said good night to Pink Dress. I bid Slick a good night as well. When I pulled away from the hug, he whispered, “Can I call you sometime?”

I laughed and shook my head. This guy was pure comedy. He already had my number from coordinating arrivals earlier in the night, but now he wanted to see if he could use it for purposes other than business. I thought not.

T
he holiday weekend had arrived and Nikki was flying in from Los Angeles. I hadn't seen her since the day she'd dropped me off at the airport in Los Angeles, but it was nothing for Nikki to book a last-minute trip for a visit. She consistently had a plethora of guys in rotation to occupy her time and finance the collection of her frequent flyer miles, luxurious hair enhancements, and designer handbags.

To join in the fun, Sydney extended her work trip through the long Memorial Day weekend. That meant the majority of The Clique was assembled. It was bound to be a weekend of major fun.

The girls arrived at the apartment Saturday evening. Dev and I were ready and waiting to start the weekend festivities with a few cocktails at our place. Nikki and all of her luxurious hair came right in and made herself at home in the kitchen mixing up some specialty drinks while Sydney, Dev, and I all sat around the kitchen's bar sipping on lime-colored, salt-rimmed glasses.

Sydney did not waste any time. “So everyone knows about Ivan calling Scottie, right?”

I looked up from my glass and shook my head. I knew where this was going.

“She's happy with her new boo. Do we really even care that Ivan wants to come crying back now?” Nikki asked.

“Maybe he really realizes that he messed up,” Sydney said.

Dev set her glass down and held her hand up. “He wasn't all bad. I definitely liked him as a person. But will Scottie or should Scottie entertain him, that's totally up to her.”

“Well, Scottie?” Sydney asked.

“I haven't even called him back yet. I really don't have much to say. I cared deeply for him at one point, but now I feel like he is trying to get me back because I'm trying to move on. It's like he can sense that I have someone else.”

“That's probably true,” Nikki said.

“I don't want whatever he has to say tainting my relationship with Kari. He is a great guy.”

“Then don't call him. Move on,” Nikki said, making the conversation final.

Once we were all feeling nice, it was time to head into the city. Before we hit the streets, I tipsy-texted Kari to say hi and to let him know that I was thinking about him. I wouldn't really have time to see him throughout the weekend, but I wanted to show him a little attention. He liked that sort of thing.

It was already after midnight, so the group consensus was to keep it low-key. We headed to Pop Burger where we could get food, drinks, and even mix in a little scene.

Surprisingly, Dev did not arrange to have us meeting up with Mel. She seemed to be getting a little annoyed with him. Maybe it was his lack of effort to incorporate her into his real life. Although he'd said that it was for her own good, she expressed how she felt disconnected from him after the whole arrest ordeal. My advice was to simply let her gut be her guide and only do what felt right when it came to Mel. He seemed to have some dangerous secrets and that wasn't cool.

Dev's phone rang as we walked out of the train station, and she jumped before scrambling to grab it out of her purse. We all watched her answer. She had just told us on the subway ride downtown that she had still been receiving prank calls. The calls had not been enough to make her change her phone number, but apparently, they were becoming threatening now and she seemed a little on edge.

Sydney said, “Is it the crazy person? Give me the phone, Dev. Let me answer.”

Dev happily handed the phone over.

Sydney was a gorgeous pint-sized ball of fire. Her silky, black, bone-straight hair flowed down her back and swayed from side-to-side when she walked. But her mesmerizing hazel eyes could definitely be deceiving since shutting down bullshit was her specialty.

“Hello?” Sydney said in her raspy Cali accent.

The line was silent. “Who is this?” the person on the other end of the phone asked in a muffled tone. You could tell that this individual was an amateur but had definitely tried to take precautions and hide her voice.

“Look, you little cunt, nobody has time to play childish games. If you really want to speak to Devin, then come holla at her face-to-face and stop the dumb shit!” Sydney exclaimed. “She'll be at Pop Burger on Fifty-eighth Street tonight. Don't be a punk. You keep hiding behind the phone, but why don't you come out and play?”

Click.
Like that Sydney hung up the phone. Instantly, the chatter started and everyone was firing questions at Sydney. Even I would not have gone that far.

“Are you insane?” Dev screamed as she snatched her phone
back. “Who knows what that idiot is capable of doing,” Dev said as she continued to flip out. “You just potentially threw us straight in harm's way!”

Sydney tossed her silky tresses over her shoulder and calmly turned to Dev. “Look, if you want this to end, then we call her bluff, simple as that. If this bitch really wants it—'cause you know it's a woman—with you, then we are all here and we have your back. At least it's a public place.”

“Should we call the police for backup?” Nikki asked, waving her crystal-encrusted phone case.

We looked at her and rolled our eyes.

My gut was telling me that somehow Mel had something to do with the whole strange situation. My intuition was normally on point, but I did not want to start anything so I kept quiet. The person on the phone would not show up to Pop Burger. That was not a part of her plan. If she wanted to actually confront Dev, then she would likely do it on her own terms and that was the scary thing.

The girls were all worked up. We were a collective ball of chaos walking down the street, Sydney and Dev still yelling at each other while Nikki and I were trying to decide if we should be scared or not.

Out of nowhere, Nikki declared, “I don't know about you ladies, but I'm looking way too cute to fight or be involved in a murder. Call that crazy fool back, Sydney, and arrange this showdown for another night, okay?”

Sometimes she could be so extreme. We were all silent for a moment, digesting the random admission of vanity. Then the roar of laughter ensued. We all laughed uncontrollably at the seriousness with which Nikki made her statement. Even Dev and Sydney
had to stop bickering to laugh. By the time we walked up to Pop Burger, everyone had calmed down. We all decided that we were not about to be punked out of continuing our plans for a good night. However, I did text Kari and tell him the situation to put him on alert in case we needed some male backup for the night.

When I asked Dev out of curiosity if she had mentioned anything to Mel, like the phone calls, she said no. I wasn't sure why, but I assumed that she had her reasons.

We walked into Pop Burger like we owned the spot. It was clear that we were all on the same page. If some shit was about to pop off, then we would be alert, confident, and ready to do what we had to do. Either way, Dev would not be in it alone and she knew that.

The DJ was jamming and the spot was packed. The décor always reminded me of a 1970s-raunchy, sex, pervaded bathhouse. The red, felt banquettes and the raw white-oak planks lining the walls and floors screamed hot, steamy, sex cabin. It probably didn't help that during my first time hitting up the location in the meatpacking district, there were snippets of an old-school porn flick being projected onto a wall and playing in a nonstop loop. Porn in public? Only in New York.

My girls and I headed to the lounge area, drinks in hand, and sat down at a table with an excellent view of the comings and goings of the crowd. Nikki turned to Dev. “Dev, are you nervous?”

Dev turned to Nikki, blinked her faux lashes and cocked her head to the side. “Nope, are you?” We cracked up given the comment that Nikki had made earlier in the night. The alcohol had us all feeling carefree.

As it turned out, a guy that Dev and I knew in passing was having his birthday party in the lounge area—he was a major player on
the social scene. That's why the spot was packed. I saw a couple of other familiar faces, too. The girls were enjoying the chic New York scene so they mixed and mingled, collecting drink after drink from the throngs of men falling at their feet and vying for their California girl attention.

Around three o'clock in the morning, we closed out our tab. We were spent and the crowd started to wind down. After the waitress finished collecting our signed receipt, she was headed away from the table when a large-framed woman pushed past the frail waitress charging in our direction. It was like something out of a cheerleading movie, the way that we all stood in our sky-high stilettos to confront whatever drama was coming our way.

The linebacker-sized heifer tried to approach Dev, but not before Sydney and I blocked her path.

With an intimidating scowl on her pretty little face, Sydney shouted over the music, “Who the hell are you?”

I couldn't see Dev at the moment but after a few glasses of alcohol, she was likely feeling herself, which was par for the course. I was sure that she was right behind us saying to herself,
I can take this big broad down.

The big woman shifted her weight to one side, then looked at Sydney. “Wow, I was coming over to speak. Are you her bodyguards or something?”

Sydney didn't let her guard down. “Depends on who's asking,” she shot back, throwing a quizzical look back at the big woman.

“Look, I thought that I recognized your friend from the hair shop and I was going to say hello. But it's not that serious.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder pulling me back. Dev pushed Sydney and me aside. The next thing I knew, she embraced the girl offering a dramatic, Dev-style hello. We sat there looking like a fake
goon squad all worked up for nothing while the two of them chatted for a brief second.

“Whatever,” I whispered to Sydney. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Exactly. Now let's get the hell up out of here. We've had enough drama for one night.”

We made our way back to Jersey and everyone was beat. Girls were dropping out of their stilettos at the front door. Jewelry and makeup were coming off like costumes. Once everyone was situated, I climbed in my bed and lay there staring at the ceiling, thanking “sweet baby Jesus” that we made it home safely and the night did not get any crazier. I rolled over and grabbed my phone off of the nightstand to text Kari that we had made it home safe.

By the time I woke up the next day, the girls were all stirring and Sydney was in the kitchen making breakfast for everyone. She whipped up fluffy eggs, grits, biscuits, and bacon. Light meal but a good start to the day. Even though it was a holiday weekend, I decided to stay home and get on my grind applying for jobs while the girls roamed the city. They would probably end up shopping in SoHo and given my budget—which was just above the poverty line—I thought it best to stay home.

I needed to get focused. A little fun in moderation was cool, but the bigger picture had to stay at the top of my mind. I was ready to get back to work.

I made a list of all companies or things that were even remotely of interest to me. Once I created a decent list, I scoured company websites and checked the career sections.

I applied for every single in-house public relations position that I could find. From record labels to beauty companies and even sports leagues, I was up for anything. By the time the girls got back to the apartment, I had covered a lot of ground and I was
feeling accomplished and ready to party. A Sunday night on a holiday weekend in the city was guaranteed fun. With no work the next day, everyone would be in the streets heavy, looking to get a little crazy and have a good time.