I'll Be Down for You: A Bay Area Saga

by Xuri Foxx

  I got up off of my chaise and secured my silk robe around me. I walked past the mirror on my way out of the room, took a quick glance and headed on my way to confront this situation head on. By the time I’d gotten to the bottom of the staircase, Jazz and I were coming face to face. It was like I could almost hear her sigh. She entered, closed the door and attempted to go to the left and toward the kitchen, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for her; I was right on her heel.

  “How’s it going, Jazz?” I asked her near the kitchen’s entrance. I walked over to the marble island and leaned against it, forcing her to acknowledge my presence.

  “It’s going,” she responded with what I knew to be a fake smile, and then tried to walk past me with a glass of juice that she had just poured herself. “What’s up?” she asked, when I moved to block her way.

  “What’s up is we need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “About the stick that’s up your ass. We have to deal with each other so you might as well get used to that and show some respect.”

  “Who the fuck do you think you talking to, Eva?” Now we were eye-to-eye as she positioned herself to challenge me.

  “I’m the woman your uncle loved.”

  “Yeah, okay, that’s debatable,” she spat sarcastically.

  Ignoring the comment, I pushed forward. “I’m the woman he made a life with. Whether you see me as family or not, I was here. I am here.”

  “Barely…” she said venomously, looking directly in my eyes. “You look as though you didn’t hear me. I said, barely,” she repeated.

  “Oh, I heard you, Honey—”

  “Don’t you ever call me that. Ever.”

  “Yeah, yeah, okay. Your little pet name from your uncle, right?”

  “You damn right. Just make sure to comply with what I said and we’ll be good.”

  “Will we? Don’t seem like it. You seem dead ass set on some other shit. You seem dead set on trying to remove me from my rightful place as lady of this manor.”

  “Lady of this manner? Are you fuckin’ delusional?” she laughed. “What made you a lady of the manor, Eva? Huh? What’s your claim to fame? I mean, besides warming my uncle’s bed, then holding your hand out for his black card?”

  “First of all, little girl…I have my own black card. Second of all, you have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. You don’t know a damn thing about what went on inside our relationship. If I’m not mistaken, you were thousands of miles away at school. So don’t pretend to know what the fuck went on here while you were away.”

  “Oh, I’m far from a pretentious bitch, Eva. I don’t pretend about a damn thing. And I still stick to what I said. I don’t give a fuck if I was at school or a damn park down the street. What will always be clear to me was that you were then…and you are now…a money-hungry whore who never had any intentions of doing anything off of your back, to get to where you wanted to be. I’m sure now that DJ is gone, you’ll find another warm body with some racks attached to it to be a whore for. Why don’t you hurr’Up and do that so you can get gone away from me.”

  “You’re evil, Jazz. Just fuckin’ evil. You were much nicer as a kid.”

  “And there you have it. I grew up. I see you for who you are. Kids don’t always see that shit. Especially, when the fake girlfriend is trying to earn brownie points and being as nice as she can be to the man who stepped up to be a single parent to his sister’s child.” She smiled at me as she said the words. It was a smile that I wanted to slap off of her face with the roughest backhand I could muster. “You wanted him to think that you were mommy material so he would marry you…” She glanced down at my ring finger, then back up at me. “How’d that work out for you?”

  She chuckled as she pushed her way past me and something welled up inside and right as she passed by, I lunged at her carrying a high-pitched scream with me. I pushed her with all my might and watched her stumble forward then drop everything that was in her hands, including her glass of juice. She lost her balance and plunged forward allowing her hands and knees to catch her fall. I pulled off my chemise so that it wouldn’t hinder any movements and I ran toward her as she grappled to her feet. By the time I made it to her, we locked up like two bulls and while I swung wildly trying to connect with as many open-handed slaps as I could, it didn’t take me long to figure out that I’d bitten off more than I could chew when Jazz began to connect with closed fists. My attempt at balling my fists failed and I just stuck to what I knew, not remembering that Jazz was a street girl. Yes, she had been cultivated over the years, courtesy of her uncle, but she was a street girl, nonetheless.

  Fuck!

  By the time I felt the first punch to my eye, it was already too late. I knew what I was gonna be met with when I got to the mirror. But all it did was fuel my anger even more to know that she had managed to bruise a part of my face that would be visible to the world.

  “You bitch!” I screamed. “You fuckin’ bitch!”

  I wasn’t exactly a match for her, but I wasn’t walking away either. We fought for what seemed like forever, until I felt someone pulling at me from behind.

  “Come on, ladies! Stop eet!” It was our housekeeper Maria, her thick accent sounding off in 3-D throughout the long hallway. “Thees ees not what Mister Derrick would want for ju to do! Please stop now! ¡Ahora!”

  Jazz looked down at her hand, then back up at me. “So, you were trying to make me bleed, Eva? This is what you do?” she asked, looking at the gash across her palm from falling onto the broken glass. “I’m about to go and nurse this and you better hope it didn’t cut deep, or else I’ma black yo’ other muthafuckin’ eye out. You made the wrong move, bitch,” she spat before heading toward one of the downstairs bathrooms.

  “You gonna be okay, Miss Jazz?!” Maria yelled out.

  “I’m okay, Maria! Thank you!”

  After she was out of earshot, Maria gave me an evil look of the eye, and then shook her head in disgust and disapproval.

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Qué lástima…” she scolded. And with that, she was off to grab cleaning agents to get the mess off of the tiled flooring.

  20

  Jazzmina

  Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. My week had been crazy, from rushing over to Dani’s with Khalil to check on her, to coming home and getting into a fist fight with Eva. Emotions were running hella high with everybody involved. Emotions ran so high that I was surprised that after me and Eva had gotten into that fight that we actually ended up talking. Maybe it was something that we both needed. I didn’t know, but fighting that shit out had somehow worked to get us on speaking terms. I think I was just holding onto a lot of anger and Eva was the closest thing for me to release all my frustrations on. Not saying that we had become BFF’s or no shit like that, but we had been back to how we were when my uncle was alive.

  She bounced back quicker than I had and was actually hanging out with her friends and all that again. I hardly saw her through the week. I wasn’t mad at her though. It was better that she go ahead and be like Stella and get her groove back because the day she found out about Dani’s baby, she was gonna need a man’s shoulder to cry on. That shit was bound to come out sooner or later, but until then, there were much bigger fish to fry.

  Khalil hadn’t called me all week, and I damn sure hadn’t called him; so I pretty much figured that what we had was just a cool fuck and nothing more than that. That was cool with me because at least I had finally got the chance to get my fix. It was like I had been fantasizing about Chris Brown and finally got to fuck him. I can’t lie; having that crush sex was everything. I wouldn’t be forgetting how it all went down, that’s for sure. But thankfully, I had never been that chick who got so sprung off the dick that she couldn’t think straight. So, Khalil could act as much of a fool as he wanted to, but we’d be working together soon and as long as we could conduct business as adults, that was all I was concerned with. From this point forward, I had already made up my mind that
my life was about to be about business and being a boss. I had big plans for whatever spot—or spots—that I landed in.

  Since Eva knew that it was my first time going out in a while, and wanted me to have a good time, she hooked it up for me and Desiree to do it kinda nice and grown up style, and ended up getting us a car service. I was way too appreciative too because I wanted to drink until my ass couldn’t stand up and I didn’t want to have to stay somewhere for the night because I was too bent to get home. So, what better way than to have my very own designated driver.

  When the car pulled up at eight that night to get me, I was fully decked—top to bottom: sixteen inch #33 Malaysian with some big pretty beach wave curls, a skin tight black dress with the entire back out. My all-yellow gold accessories consisted of, knuckle rings on my left hand, and dangle bracelets on my right, and hoops. I usually wore minimal makeup because the shit was just too hard to keep up with and take off! But tonight, I had the smoky eye going on and Mac Ruby Woo by Rihanna on my lips. To finish it all off, I wore a simple, four-inch black pump.

  The whole ride to the Town, I wore my sunglasses. You would’ve sworn the entire sun was out, but I didn’t give a damn. It was my look for the night.

  When we pulled up to Desiree’s new apartment, this broad came out the house with almost the same outfit that I was wearing which meant that we would just be getting double the attention and I wasn’t mad at that. The only thing that I saw differently was that she had the Kim K swoop ponytail going on and no shades. But we were two bad ass bitches about to turn up. I leaned out the window and waved Desiree’s mom off who I guess had come to babysit Jada Pinkett, and then we were on our way—but not before we hit the blunt extra hard, and sipped on some champagne. I was starting to relax, but I didn’t want to relax too much because not only was I coming to party, I was coming to see what I could see.

  “I see that puppy got your mother instincts kicked all the way into high gear, bitch. I ain’t never seen you take care of shit like that.”

  “Don’t start,” Desiree laughed, as she hit the kush again.

  “Nah, I ain’t clownin’ though. I think that shit is super cute. I really do. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “Yeah, she’s a special little puppy. I see why people have therapy dogs now. She’s right there with me when I’m happy, sad, mad, and glad!”

  “That is special,” I teased.

  “Look at yo’ cute ass though, bitch!” she blurted out, starting to feel her high. “We look cute as fuck! Wait ‘til I start working at Vanity though; I’m about to treat our asses to some baller type shit. Telling you, girl. I got super-sized plans for us. I’ma get me a house, a new ride—”

  “Girrrl, if you don’t stop with all this Vanity talk!”

  “Okay. You right! But for real though. My house is coming.”

  “Had to slide that in, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “So, tell me about this party we hittin’ up. What can I expect? What types of niggas are these?”

  “It’s cool. I like the bike parties because these niggas know how to act. They usually got their heads on straight, and ain’t about the drama.”

  “Yeah, but you know just like I know that wherever there’s a lot of niggas, there’s an equal amount of thirsty to bring the drama. So, I’ll just see what I can see.”

  “Well, they’re gonna be all up on you; I can tell you that right now. You know muthafuckas can smell new meat from miles away,” she laughed.

  “True that. I do know that I don’t want anybody knowing who I am though. Not like I’m on celebrity status or no shit like that. But I also know that DJ was known in these circles and I don’t want the connection being made.”

  “I got you,” she complied. “Speaking of that…have they found out anything yet?”

  “Not yet,” I lied. “But I’m hoping soon.” I chose not to mention the whole thing about motorcycles to her because she would get to making up theories and shit and then the drunker she got later, she might start running off at the mouth. Didn’t need any of that.

  “Well, they need to find out soon because I’m ready to pull some triggers on niggas behind DJ. I know what he meant to you.”

  “Yeah. Pulling triggers sounds like a good plan too. And trust me; if I ever found out who did it, I would definitely catch a case, but it would be worth it to me.”

  “Don’t talk like that, Jazz.”

  “I mean that shit though, Desi. If I ever found out who killed my uncle, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

  “Yeah…” she said, seemingly following her thoughts to somewhere outside the car.

  “Why you say it like that?” I asked. “Seem like you zoned out for a minute. I’ll stop talking about it.”

  “Nah, it’s good. I was just thinking about the possibility of it,” she said, quietly. “I could actually see you doing it and it just lightweight scared me for a minute.”

  I reached over and rubbed her arm in consolation. “It’s cool, boo. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m good. Besides, I’m pretty sure it’ll be taken care of. Karma never sleeps.”

  “Now that…” she emphasized, raising her champagne glass, “…is real spit.”

  “How you know these bike dudes?”

  “Through Nick for the most part. When I met him that nigga he rode up on a clean ass Harley.”

  “On a Harley? He’s a rider?”

  “Yep. Had a Harley and a BMW. Him on that bike was what attracted me to his ass. I was on the freeway and I looked through the rearview and it was a gang of fine ass niggas on bikes behind me. I mean, them niggas was thick in packs. That shit was pretty! Girl, my pussy got wet from that shit! Seeing all that status in all black ridin’ deep like that. Shiiiit! I exchanged numbers with that nigga on the freeway, bitch! In real life though. And you know what? There was a bunch of fine ones, so I know you’ll see something you like. Unless you don’ already committed that pussy to Khalil,” she laughed.

  “Girl, stop it. I’m committed to me, myself and I.”

  “I heard that, Beyoncé!” she laughed, downing the rest of her champagne.

  As the car came to a slow roll, my excitement grew. I was anxious as hell. And just as I expected, as soon as we pulled into the lot, there was nothing but baller status. Under normal circumstances, I’d be scouting some meat to test out, and that might come too, but primarily I wanted to see if anything would stick out to me. None of us had heard from Detective Davis, and being there at the club, I wondered if he’d even bothered going to any of the motorcycle spots or if he was just in one of his damn suits, sitting on his ass waiting on the next tip to come across his desk. But whatever. I wasn’t gonna let his ass being incompetent, fuck with my mental tonight.

  “You ready, Jazz?” Desiree asked as we exited the vehicle.

  “Good and ready,” I answered, tossing my curls over my shoulder and adjusting my Gucci sunglasses, and then smoothing down my dress.

  21

  Jazzmina

  We did a lot of smiling on the way inside the club from all the catcalls from boys. I waved and spoke back to a few, but kept it moving. I needed to get inside and see what all the options were before I settled on one—if I settled on one. Desi wasn’t lying though, I saw a few fine ones and we weren’t even in good yet.

  The strobe lights were in full effect inside. The club had three levels and there were wall to wall people. At first sight, I was a little nervous because I never liked crowds too much because crazy shit could happen and nobody would see shit because the minute commotion started, everybody would scatter and it would be hard to tell who the culprit was. But I was trying to think past all of that. I’ll admit that the setup was nicer than I thought it would be on the inside. For some reason, whenever I thought of motorcycles, I thought of old ass white dudes leaned back on big ass hogs wearing bandanas and smelling like cigarettes, liquor and oil. But black people knew how to do shit in style. That was just the reality of the situation. Nobody was fucki
n’ with us on making shit appealing—especially when it came to partying and flossing and all that shit.

  Desiree had her hand inside mine leading me through as we navigated our way up to the upper level. When we got up there, my anxiety decreased and I was put at ease. It wasn’t as packed as it was downstairs, and not just that, we had a front row seat to people-watch. We went over to the bar and ordered drinks, and then managed to find one of the tall tables with stools to sit at. The deejay was good and seemed to have Bay Area rap in heavy rotation, and that was never a bad thing. But when he switched it up and “No Bullshit” came on, Desiree turned toward me and gave me a knowing look before smirking and rolling her eyes. She knew I was something like obsessed with Chris Brown’s fine ass.

  “Whatever, girl!” I exclaimed. I raised my hands over my head and started swaying to the music, snapping my fingers, and singing along with the lyrics.

  Somewhere near the end of the song, a cute guy approach. He was brown-skinned, nice physique, somewhere around 5’10, nicely dressed and smelling all kinds of good. I smiled at Desi when I saw him lean into her ear and say something. She turned around to look at him and then nodded her head, while preparing to get off her stool and follow him somewhere. She signaled to me with her finger letting me know that she’d be back in a minute. He smiled in my direction as they walked off to the balcony that was near where we sat.

  A short while later, I turned in the direction of the balcony to see if Desiree was headed back my way. When I didn’t see her, I scanned the immediate area to see if they were inside, but I still didn’t spot her. I was starting to become alarmed and pulled out my cell to call her phone. But then I thought about how loud it was in there and that she might not hear her phone, so I gave up the seats and went in search of her instead.