Lust & Hip Hop (The Ms. Mogul Series)

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Lust & Hip Hop (The Ms. Mogul Series) Page 8

by Jazz Jordan


  ***

  Angelique stood outside in the domestic arrival area of LAX Airport with her suitcase in tow. Los Angeles was full of familiar sights: palm trees, California sun, famous people trying to dodge the paparazzi and wannabes vying for their attention. Memories of her childhood came to mind as Angelique sat down on a bench next to a man smoking a cigarette. She thought of fun-filled days at Grandma’s house followed by chaotic nights in her mother’s Hollywood Hills mansion.

  Angelique grinned at the sight of Grandma’s old, red Honda approaching her. She waved and hollered, “Grandma!” in a voice that was almost childlike. Her grandmother parked in front of her and turned on her blinkers. Angelique put her suitcase in the trunk and sat in the passenger’s seat.

  “It’s so good to see you, sweetie,” Grandma exclaimed joyously as she opened her arms wide to embrace her granddaughter. She looked at least a decade younger than her eighty-one years. Her silver hair was cropped into a short, curly fro. She was wearing a white sundress that made her ebony skin glow. Sunglasses were perched elegantly on her nose, and a seashell necklace rested against her chest.

  “It’s good to see you too.” Angelique hugged her tight and fought back the urge to cry. She loved her grandmother so much that it made her emotional. Had it not been for Grandma, it pained her to think about what her life would have been like.

  “Well, as the old folks say, let’s blow this popsicle joint.” Grandma grinned and turned off the blinkers. She put her Honda in drive and cautiously made her way to the 405 freeway. Even though it was a Sunday afternoon, there were plenty of cars crowding the lanes. Angelique certainly didn’t miss LA traffic, which was saying a lot now that she was a New Yorker.

  She chit-chatted with Grandma about the weather and other mundane topics. Both of them seemed to dodge the subject of her mother (either consciously or subconsciously). The warmth of the California air felt good on Angelique’s skin through the open window. She almost forgot for a minute why she was there until Grandma pulled up in front of the UCLA Medical Center.

 

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