Thug Matrimony Page 8

  “I’ll have a vanilla cappuccino.”

  The waitress nodded, took Angel’s menu, and disappeared.

  “You know I’m still in shock, right?” Angel confessed.

  “Yeah, but it’s cool.”

  “My husband … I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I tell him you’re not only a female but a white chick.” Angel was looking her over trying to figure out who she resembled. She did know that she was a tomboy. “Are you gay?”

  Lil’E laughed. “Nah, I’m not gay. Even though I may act like a boy, I’m strictly dickly. That’s why I’m in the predicament I’m in. I love dick … black dick at that.” She figured since Angel was keeping it gully she might as well do the same. Plus, it felt good to talk to another woman, a seemingly strong, powerful, positive woman. Angel’s vibe gave off the feelings of confidence and said, I got it goin’ on. And Lil’E liked that feeling.

  “Oookay,” Angel said. Just then the waitress came and set Angel’s cheesecake and fries in front of her as well as both cups of cappuccino. Angel was still looking Lil’E over. Her mind, going over the possibilities, was traveling a mile a minute. “You know who you look like?”

  “I know who you’re going to say.” E’s eyes rolled upward.

  “Who?” Angel indulged in a mouthful of cheesecake.

  “Nah. Go ahead. You tell me.”

  “Alicia Keyes. You get that often?”

  “Yeah.” E smirked.

  “Why do you have that hoodie on, covering yourself up? You’re beautiful! The hoodie makes you look crazy like my husband.” She smiled.

  “I saw your husband. He doesn’t look crazy. He is fine!”

  “Where did you see him?”

  “Felon, FEDS, Don Diva. One of them. He was in a flick with Fat Joe and Angie Martinez.”

  “Well, you said you like black dick but that’s one black dick that is off-limits.”

  Lil’E chuckled. “I was just testing you. I’m not grimey like that.”

  “Good. Then we should get along just fine. And I see you got a little sense of humor. Tell me sumthin about you. What is your real name?”

  “Lily Penzera.”

  “Penzera. You’re Italian?”

  “Yeah. But according to my grandmother my mom was white and my dad’s Italian.”

  “Where are they?”

  “My mom passed away when I was fourteen. My dad was just a sperm donor. I’ve been living with my grandma out in Hoboken.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Just turned eighteen yesterday.”

  “Oh. Happy belated.”

  “Thanks,” she answered dryly.

  “How long have you been blessin’ the mic?”

  “Since I was nine, ten.”

  “How did you get so … good?” Angel laughed because she didn’t know what other word to use. “You are amazing. You got my husband and everybody else going crazy over you. Why don’t you have a deal? I mean, I know cats have been coming at you left and right.”

  “I already have one,” she said with much disdain. “And yeah, a lot of labels have been trying to sign me but I’m in a jam. My hands are tied.”

  “Who signed you?”

  “Phillip Johnson over at Tyrant Music Limited.”

  “Oh my gosh! That creep?” Angel was shocked.

  Phillip Johnson was the East Coast version of Suge Knight. But the difference was, not only was he a bully but he was down right grimey, and the whole industry knew it. What earned him a permanent spot on Angel’s shit list was when he tricked those artists on lockdown to sign a contract. He promised them the world. One of them wrote several lyrics and hooks for his other artists and got nothing. The guy was riding the subway and living at his mother’s. The other cat, a producer, upon his release went to the label, produced tracks for another artist that went platinum, and wasn’t even on the album credits. Now he was working a construction job. And they both were still locked into a contract with Phillip Johnson.

  “How did you get hooked up with him?”

  “The typical story. He saw me battling at Jimmy’s Uptown. You know the rest, promised me the world, wrapped in a big fat record contract. He gets the pussy, I get pregnant, he gives me the abortion money. When I refuse it, he does nothing with my contract. So here I am, pregnant, no record deal, hustlin’ mix tapes to survive, and still living with my grandmom.”

  “Hold up, you fucked him when you were underaged?” Lil’E nodded yes. “And you’re pregnant right now?” She nodded again. “You sure it’s his?”

  “He popped my cherry.”

  “What the fuck? Isn’t the nigga married?”

  “And? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? P.J. has a thing for white girls, young chicks, and strippers.”

  “I’ll be damned.” Angel was so disgusted she couldn’t finish her other slice of cheesecake. She sat there drumming her fingers against the cappuccino mug, glancing at Lil’E and trying to make heads or tails of the info she just received. Lil’E cleared her throat and sat there nursing her cappuccino, both ladies deep in thought.

  “So, do you have your original contract or at least a copy of it?”

  “Yeah. That’s about all I have, is a contract.” E chuckled.

  “So, then. Why are you here?”

  “Here we go.” E sighed. “Just come out and say it. Everyone else said it, ‘Lily, you fucked up.’ Along with ‘I can’t sign you up until that contract expires,’ or ‘Philip Johnson is big in this business,’ or ‘You’re white’ or ‘You should have come to me first’ or, my favorite, ‘You’re pregnant, come back after you have the baby!'”

  “Are you finished?”

  “I just wanted a chance, Ms. Santos. That’s why I’m here. I told myself that it can’t be a coincidence that y’all called me. But I can’t kill my baby, Ms. Santos. I won’t do that for all the money and record contracts in the world.” She stood up and was ready to leave.

  “Wait a minute, let me tell you sumthin. I don’t think you did your homework. My husband and I have a background of nothing but risk taking, struggles, and you’ll find that we always go after what we want. And at this point that would be you and your unborn child.”

  Angel motioned for her to sit down. “Young lady, I have a little sister your age. She’s smart as hell and has all the chances in this world, but refuses to take advantage of at least one. And here you are asking for just one, and you’re carrying a baby? I’m impressed. I’m pregnant and I’m more motivated than ever.”

  “Pregnant?” Lil’E was shocked.

  “Know that being pregnant shouldn’t stop shit, nor should being able to whip a bitch’s ass stop you from getting into your best gear. We can still be all we aim to be. I know I am. If you are drug-free, loyal, can stay healthy, and can show me that you have an above-average work ethic, I’ma show you the heights that us pregnant women can reach. No matter if you’re white, black, Chinese, Indian, whatever. There’s enough money out there.” Angel was checking for any signs of hesitation. When she couldn’t find any, she asked, “So, what’s good?”

  “I ain’t got shit to lose. So … I’ma follow the leader.”

  “No. As of today you either lead or walk side by side.”

  After Angel dropped Lil’E home and picked up her contract she swung by the hospital to check on Trae and Tasha.

  That next morning, she was on her way to Tetersboro Airport in New Jersey to pick up Kaylin. He had finally wrapped up the Canada contract. Things had been moving so fast that they still hadn’t sat down and had “the talk.”

  She stepped out of the Mercedes SUV to stretch her legs. She was parked in front of one of the private hangars. Game Over Records had their own. She grabbed her cell phone and placed a call to Davina Ross. She needed everything that was there dug up on Phillip Johnson and Tyrant Music Ltd.

  Kaylin had explained to Angel over the phone that he could easily take a limo home; she didn’t have to drive way out here to pick him up. But Angel i
nsisted that she come. She couldn’t wait to see the expression on his face when she told him about Lil’E, aka Lily Penzera. He had tried to get her to tell him about their meeting last night over the phone but she wouldn’t.

  She watched as the private jet made its landing and pulled up into the hangar. Her thoughts went to her sister, Carmen. She was losing her, she could feel it. She had to figure out something.

  Then there was Kaylin, the love of her life. Why in the hell did he feel threatened by Keenan? She had no understanding of that. Hell, he told Trae that she had his heart, and she felt exactly the same, he had her heart, but they both seemed to be avoiding the chance to confront their issues, afraid that they would be driven further apart.

  She couldn’t help but smile as the jetway door eased up and Kaylin came down the stairs. He was swimming in a cream Sean John sweat suit and beige Timbs. She leaned back up against the hood of the car. He smiled as he hurried toward her, that one dimple smiling at her.

  “Nigga, I didn’t buy that sweat suit,” she joked.

  He dropped his bag and went to hug her and she tried to push him away. He moved her arms and put her in a bear hug.

  “This is how you greet a nigga who ain’t had no pussy in months?” He gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek, then one on the lips, their tongues doing a dance on their own. Angel broke away from his lips when his hands began sliding up her dress and squeezing her ass. “I didn’t buy this dress.”

  “Yes, you did.” She quivered as he pressed her against his dick. This time she went to kiss him hungrily, as she did a slow wind on his dick.

  “Mmmmm,” Kaylin moaned. “Now, that’s the shit Daddy misses.”

  “Nigga, you gonna keep on missing it, until I get my wedding.” She pulled his hands away from her ass.

  Kaylin stood there once again with a massive hard-on. “Red, that’s fucked up! That shit right there gonna get you fucked up! Stop playin’.”

  “Nah, you stop the damn playin’.”

  “You so fuckin’ petty.”

  She rolled her eyes and left him standing there and snatched open the passenger door. “Kaylin, come on. You have a ten-thirty meeting and you know traffic is gonna be crazy.” She jumped in and shut the door.

  Kaylin was still standing there pissed off. He finally picked up his bag, yanked open the back door, and tossed it in the backseat.

  She hated leaving Kaylin stuck on hard. As bad as her pussy needed to be touched and stroked? Sheeit. He was the petty one. At that point, she and her hormones instantly got mad. I should fuck him up, for fucking up. Something had to give … and soon.

  He eased into the front, adjusted the seat and everything else before pulling off. He was clearly pissed. They rode the first ten minutes in silence.

  “Angel, I can’t do this shit.”

  “What?”

  “Play these fuckin’ bullshit-ass games, that’s what.”

  “Then man the fuck up and take on your responsibilities or don’t fuckin’ touch me anymore, and you damn sure don’t have to worry about me touching you. We’ll keep everything strictly business. But I mean it when I say, no wedding, no pussy.”

  “You wasn’t saying that crazy bullshit before we got married.”

  “Helloooo,” Angel sang. “We never fuckin’ got married!” she screamed.

  “You know what the fuck I’m talkin’ about.”

  “Yeah, you know what the fuck I’m talkin’ about. You allowed your ego to fuck everything up, even though I’m still married to you but you’re not married to me. You’re married to your pride. So … my bad, for believing in what I thought we shared.” Angel’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

  “Well, that was my fuckin’ bad!”

  Silence filled the car.

  Damn. What was supposed to be a happy morning turned into total chaos, Angel thought to herself. Fuck him! I wasn’t the one who left the altar.

  “Red. You know what? I’m through. Fuck it!” Kaylin snapped.

  “Hummph, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “I can show you better than I can tell you.” He looked over at her. “Strictly business, right?”

  “What? What the fuck is you sayin’? You know you don’t even want to go there. So play with it. That’s what I want you to do. Remember, what you do I can do better.” Angel wanted to cry, but mustered up enough strength to not give him the satisfaction.

  “You can’t even push your foolish pride and your fucked-up ego aside for nothing, can you? If not for me, then at least for the baby.” When he didn’t respond, she said, “You fuckin’ asshole!” The longer he remained quiet, the angrier she became. “You think you slick, nigga, but hell no. I was gonna say fuck you too. I’m out. I’m moving out. But fuck that, I think that’s what you want me to do. Nah, Kay. I’m not letting you off the hook. You can forget that. You pulled me off my square, temporarily, and actually won this round. I’ma give you that. But you ain’t getting out of your responsibilities with me or the baby. Like I said, till death do us part. Say what you want, do what the fuck you want to do. Now take me home.”

  “I’m not going to have enough time to take you home and be at the office by ten thirty.”

  “Fine. Let me out. I’ll take a cab.”

  “We got work to do, Angel.”

  “I know you’re gonna let me take a day off, Kaylin!” Tears were streaming down her face. “Stop the fucking car now, Kaylin.”

  “Red, do yo see a muthafuckin’ cab anywhere?”

  “I don’t give a fuck. I’m sick of hearing and looking at you for one day. You sound stupid and selfish. I am really hating you right now and if I stay here any longer, I won’t be responsible for what I’ll do or say to you.”

  “Fuck,” he mumbled as he hit the child safety locks and sped up. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? Sorry about what, Kaylin?” She was crying hard.

  “Sorry for getting you all upset.”

  In the middle of Angel’s crying bout she started laughing. “I see that there is no hope for you. I might as well throw in the towel. After I have this baby, we’re out. Fuck you, Kaylin. You egotistical, stupid … son of a bitch! I can’t even find the words for you. Sorry for getting me upset. Is that all you’re sorry for? What about everything else, Kaylin?”

  It took her damn near an hour but she finally got her emotions and frame of mind together. He refused to open his mouth.

  Finally she was able to switch to business mode and told him, “I listened to Lupe Black’s demo and if he can dance and perform half as good as he sings, he’s gonna give Chris Brown a run for his money.”

  “Word?”

  “I am not lying.”

  “I thought he rapped!”

  “Me too. He not only sings, that little boy croons. He even has a song on there in Spanish.”

  Kaylin had to let that all sink in. Then he finally said, “No shit.”

  “E.” She turned to face him. “Lil’E is a she.”

  “Is a what?”

  “You heard me. A she. A girl.”

  “Get the fuck outta here.”

  “Not only that, she’s white!”

  He burst out laughing, until he realized she was serious. “Red, you killin’ me, Ma.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m gonna do. Kill ‘em. Shes a beautiful Caucasion. She resembles Alicia Keys. I’ma be her agent and get her endorsements out the ass. Watch. And guess who she signed a bullshit-ass contract with?”

  “Who?”

  “Phillip Johnson.”

  “Red. C’mon, Ma.” He didn’t know if she was playing with him or not.

  “No shit. Phillip muthafuckin’ Johnson. And I’ma tear that ass up.”

  “Red, you can’t be all up in the nigga’s face. I’ll have to kill that nigga if he disrespects you.”

  “I’ll keep it strictly business, Kaylin.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “Kaylin, this is business. I can handle him. I need you to trus
t me on this. This project means a lot to me.”

  “I’ll let you know. I gotta think about that some more.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Now that’s my news, so what happened in Canada?”

  “Haven’t made up my mind yet. I got some more paperwork for you to go over. They actually got a gold mine over there but don’t know what to do with it. They really just need some capital. I may become a silent partner. I told them that after me and you put our head together and go over the additional paperwork, we would get back at them.”

  For the next three weeks Kaylin was barely at the house. They dealt with each other at the office more than at home. Angel was spending more nights at home alone crying than she wanted too. She didn’t like being there without Kaylin. So she spent lots of time at the office focused on the Puma deal, Canada, Lupe Black, Papi Chulo, and Lil’E.

  Her hormones were going crazy and she was now showing.

  Business was on the verge of exploding at Game Over Records. Kaylin had called a staff meeting to make sure that everyone was on track and in sync. The conference room was full as Kaylin looked around the table. Perry G was replaced by the twins from Sony. Jet and Asia, a pair of black/Asian twins, his in-house producer, Shahid, his public relations maven, Courtney Moran, Angel, Tim Cohen, Dee, and Q, who was over their street team and Kym Ohn, the marketing director. He gave instructions to each one and was now listening to their feedback.

  “Ooops.” Angel giggled. Everyone turned toward her since she had interrupted Kym.

  “Sorry, Kym. Oh my!” She giggled again as she held her stomach. “Baby, she moved! The baby moved!” She stood up in her excitement and went over to Kaylin. He pulled her onto his lap and they both had their hands on her small, round belly.

  Kym Ohn resumed where she left off, discussing marketing strategies.

  “Oh, snap! There she goes!” Kaylin beamed. His hands now circling her entire stomach. They both had tuned out the meeting and were watching Angel’s stomach.

  “Amateurs,” Dee mumbled, but she was joking. She had been through pregnancy twice.