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Authors: Nikki Turner

BOOK: Relapse: A Novel
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“Damn, baby, you were already looking good but goddamn you could be a man’s muse for real.” Her body seemed poured into her indigo blue jeans, which she topped with a teal blouse. Her long
silky black hair flowed down her back, and her dark chocolate skin didn’t have a blemish in the world. Her full eyes appeared to be looking right into his soul.

Beijing laughed. “Thanks, I guess I’m supposed to take that as a compliment.” Then she asked, “Did you get all squared away?” Beijing looked at Don, and he, too, was looking good. It was just something about this magnetic energy that he let off.

“Naw, I didn’t, dude said it would be a couple of hours before he could get here. I’m ready to get out of this hotel now, though. I’m trying to go with you.”

She laughed it off. “It’s against policy,” she said, but thought about how nice it would have been to have him join her for dinner. After all, she was going to eat alone.

“But you off the clock and it’s just dinner. Shit, you even tried to get somebody to take me around but it didn’t happen. I mean, what, you got a hot date?”

“Actually my dinner date just called to say she couldn’t make it.”

“Well, it’s an innocent date and I’m good company. Plus I’d hate to tell your boss that you left me standing on the curb.”

She took a deep breath. “I guess it can’t hurt anything. Come on.”

As she started out of the lobby, Mr. Bitz’s daughters walked quickly past her in the same direction, with him in tow. Beijing had a grin on her face thinking of how her own father would sometimes try to keep up with her. As the girls passed, they said “Thank you, Beijing,” in unison.

“You are so welcome.”

“Thank you, you are the best!” Mr. Bitz said to her while running after his girls. She smiled at the compliment, but the smile was quickly interrupted by April.

“Beijing, can I speak to you for a minute?” April said, tapping her on the shoulder.

Beijing turned. “Certainly.” The two turned their backs away from the counter.

“While you were so busy planning dinner dates with our guests, the credit card Don’s promoter put on file to pay for his expenses was declined,” she said in a harsh tone, then rolled her neck in a matter-of-fact way. “So that nigga ain’t got no damn money,” she concluded.

But the money didn’t matter when you were just lusting over him, huh?
Beijing looked at April but didn’t express her thoughts.
Bet your ass would have still hopped in bed with him, even if he was penniless
.

Beijing could tell that April was only throwing dirt on Don because he hadn’t paid her any mind. Most of the time the guys who came into the hotel were head over heels for April. She was super sexy in a hootchie sort of way and her cat eyes seemed to hypnotize men into doing her bidding. And it didn’t hurt that she threw herself at them. She might as well have had
FUCK ME FOR FREE
tattooed on her forehead, because that’s pretty much all that ever happened. She usually got nothing but a cheap meal and maybe an entrance to one of the hot clubs. She mostly would end up with an empty pocketbook and a wet ass.

“It doesn’t mean that he’s broke because the promoter’s card was declined. It’s not his. But I will check on it, April,” she assured her co-worker as she walked away.

Once she’d strolled back over to Don, he asked, “So where are we off to? I mean, it really doesn’t matter to me, it’s basically wherever your heart desires.”

“Well, there is a new restaurant called the Vines that I was invited to a few weeks ago, and the food was so scrumptious. I would love to go back there again. Let me tell you all about it. The—”

“No need to,” he said, cutting her off. “I said anywhere your heart desires.”

“Okay, but it’s kind of pricey.”

“If you like it, I love it,” he said. “There’s nothing to debate.”

Beijing hesitated in light of what April had just told her. But, she thought, the promoter’s and Don’s pockets were two different
things. Besides, she was willing to go Dutch. She didn’t expect him to pay for her meal. Then again, the restaurant might comp her meal, which sometimes happened because they knew she would recommend their establishment to her clients.

Beijing led Don to her parking space near the front of the hotel, where she kept her father’s vintage 1979 Lincoln Continental Mark V Bill Blass Edition that he had fully and lovingly restored. It wasn’t the most expensive car on the road, but it was distinctive and it could flat-out run at 120 mph and make you feel like you were floating on air.

She got behind the wheel, and Don slid into the passenger seat.

“Nice ride, baby,” he said. “Damn, and you got a CD player in here?” He leaned in to figure out how to slide his CD into the player.

“Thanks. Since I blew up the engine in my car, my daddy lets me use this. I keep telling him that I’m going to get something newer but he reminds me that restoring this car was a labor of love for him. It means a lot to me, and even more to Daddy. So, I’m driving it for the time being until I do figure out what I really want.”

Beijing coasted out of the parking lot and didn’t say much to Don, because she was enjoying his rhymes coming from the stereo. Impressed with his skills, she bopped her head to the tracks of the two songs he chose for her to listen to. He then turned down the volume to get to know Beijing a little more.

“So, do you like working at the hotel?” Don asked.

“Yes. It’s cool for now but I have dreams and aspirations bigger than this hotel.”

“Like what? Being the wife of a big rap star?” he teased.

“Not even.” She smiled. “I want to own a concierge business that caters only to the wealthiest and most exclusive patrons.”

“Count me in as one of your clients.”

“No doubt.” Beijing cranked up the volume, wanting to hear
the last song over again. Don looked out the window until the track ended.

“Would you mind pulling over to that gas station?” Don said to Beijing. “I need to grab some Blacks and a pack of gum.” As Beijing pulled over, he asked, “You want anything?”

“No, I’m okay. I don’t want to spoil my appetite.”

Two minutes later Don returned with a look of disappointment on his face. “They don’t have any Blacks. Ima walk over to that other station around back. Wait here for me.”

“You sure you don’t want me to just pull over there?”

“Nah, I’m good. Just chill for me here.”

Beijing thought it was kind of odd that Don wanted to walk, but she didn’t make a big deal out of it. She used the time to run tomorrow’s schedule through her head.

Nobody but the clerk was in the store when Don walked up to the gas station counter.

“Let me get a pack of Blacks and all the money you got in that register.”

“W-w-what?” the attendant stammered.

Don pulled out a Glock from his waistband and calmly stated, “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The attendant had only been working at the Shell station for about thirty days, and he had no intention of losing his life over someone else’s paper. He reached beside the register, grabbed a plastic bag, and started filling it with money.

After the attendant handed him the bag, Don casually walked out of the store as if nothing had happened. To the common observer it looked like nothing was going on, but George wasn’t common: He’d worked as a security guard at Bank of America for the past four years, and he had seen the entire transaction between Don and the store attendant from his pickup truck in the parking lot.

Don noticed the toy cop in the gray truck when he stepped out of the store, but he kept it moving all the same. When he got back
to the spot where he’d left Beijing, he found it empty. The gray pickup truck was trailing closely behind him. Don picked up his phone and called Beijing.

She answered on the second ring. Don looked around and asked, “Where are you?”

“I drove down the street to the BP to get gas; that’s the only brand my father uses in this baby.”

“I’m coming to you. Don’t move,” Don said before breaking out in a jog. He noticed the pickup still trailing, and the driver on the phone. Don didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that the Good Samaritan was talking with the police.

Don made it to the BP gas station, out of breath, and jumped in the passenger side of the Lincoln.

He hit the dashboard with the palm of his hand and demanded, “Go, go, go! Get out of here! Someone is following me!”

“What’s going on?” Beijing asked, confused. “Why would someone be chasing you?”

“Long story,” he said. “Right now I need you to drive.” They peeled out of the BP parking lot and hopped on 85 South with the pickup on their tail. “Speed up, girl, we need to lose that damn truck, and quick,” Don insisted.

Beijing was scared to death, but she pushed that car like she was trying to get a NASCAR deal. The front end of the luxury vehicle rose up and the speedometer read 130. After a while she didn’t see the truck in the rearview mirror anymore, and Don told her to take the next exit.

They got off, and then got back on heading in the opposite direction. “You can slow down now, I think we’re good.”

“What did you do back there?” Beijing asked, still shaken.

“Somebody tried to rob me,” Don lied, “and I shot the dude.”

“Why didn’t you call the police?”

“’Cause I’m a convicted felon,” he said. “They’ll lock me up for having a gun.”

Beijing had calmed down until she saw a police car parked on
the side of the highway. “There’s the police,” she said, using her eyes and head to point them out in the mirror.

Damn
, Don thought,
I’m busted
. From the far left lane they drove past the police car, careful to observe the speed limit, and to their relief the car stayed put.
My lucky day
, Don thought,
they didn’t pen me
.

“There’s another one,” Beijing said calmly, although she was scared shitless on the inside.

Just like the first one, this one stayed put. They rode past four more cruisers and all of them did the same thing: remained at the side of the road.

About two minutes after passing the sixth cop car, Don looked in the side mirror, and what he saw made his heart drop: All six police cars were right behind them.

“Shit!” Don yelled.

Beijing was tired of being on the wrong side of this cops-and-robbers shit. “I’m going to pull over, Don.”

“Just keep on driving until they hit their blue lights,” Don reasoned, but inside he knew he was done.

A highway sign said that they would hit the Charlotte city limits in nine miles. Don took another look in the mirror. “I don’t believe this shit.”

“What?” Beijing asked.

“They gone.”

Beijing didn’t know what to do. On the one hand she was relieved and on the other, she was paranoid. Once she reached the city limits she pulled over and called her father. Her heart was in her panties as the phone rang. She explained to Sterling, blow by blow, everything that had transpired that night. She could hear the hurt and frustration in her father’s voice when he said two words before ending the conversation: “Torch it.”

CHAPTER 4
Faking the Funk

Beijing stood on top of the hill out in the boonies, watching her father’s custom car go up in flames down below. She shook her head. “I don’t fucking believe this shit.” She dropped her head. “I can’t believe it.” The car was in a full blaze.

“I apologize.” Don turned around to look in her big pretty eyes when he spoke. “I promise I’m going to make it up to you. I mean it.” He sounded sincere, but Beijing was too pissed to even care.

“Whatever,” Beijing said and put her hand up as if she wanted him to talk to the hand, not her. She wasn’t in the mood for empty promises.

“I swear on everything I love that I will somehow get you a new car.”

“The fucked-up shit about it is,” she said, frustrated, “it isn’t even my car. I keep telling you, it’s my father’s.” Then she screamed, “Goddamnit!” and popped Don upside his head with her pocketbook like an old lady fending off a would-be thief.

Don let her take out her frustrations on him. Tears were forming in his eyes because he felt so rotten inside for his actions.

“You going to sell that chain? Surely those big-ass diamonds can bring in some cash.” She poked him in the chest. “That’s what you gonna do.”

“Actually they ain’t really worth much of nothing,” Don admitted.

“Probably not as much as you paid for them, but I’m sure they are worth something.”

Don dropped his head and his ego and said, “Whatever we could get for the best cubic zirconia that money could buy, and you are welcome to it.”

“What?” Beijing almost broke her neck when she rolled her head to take a better look at the chain and pendant. “What did you say?”

“You know the saying: Fake it till you make it. This is the perfect example of that.” He lifted up the big cross medallion. “I’m on my way up the road to stardom but I ain’t there yet.”

“This necklace is fake?” She spoke slowly in disbelief. Then she walked off, saying, “Come on.” She almost stomped her foot, but she didn’t. “Shit!”

Beijing was disgusted with him. She bit down on her lip, not knowing how to fix the situation. The sad part was, she couldn’t even call her father to get his input. She didn’t see the need to worry him any more with this foolishness.

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