A woman walked up to the group, and Neil took it as a chance to say good-bye. He and Naomi headed toward the bar in the back.
Approaching the group, Tamika smacked Madison on the hip. “There the hell you are,” she said.
“I was looking for you.” Madison laughed, looking to Cathy for support.
“Yeah, I told her you were looking for her,” Cathy chimed in.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m about to go soon. I’m about to be wasted with all these free drinks flowing around here.”
“I know. The Cîroc and lemonade is pretty damn good, if I must say so myself,” Madison said.
“Yeah, they have this Cîroc and strawberry juice drink. The waitress brought me two of those, and I downed them in, like, four gulps. I am definitely taking a cab home,” Tamika said.
Tamika had used to work at Drama 99, and she and Madison were pretty cool. She had left to get a marketing position at Bad Boy, but they had remained in touch and known each other for at least seven years. The industry was like a revolving door, people coming and going year after year. To have a friend for years was always something to be cherished in the music business. It was a cutthroat field—people were all about what you could do for them. Tamika was one of Madison’s colleagues who Madison felt was a good friend, for real.
“Well, if you’re leaving, I’m leaving, too,” Madison said. “I thought we were going by Cafeteria after this.”
“We can still go, I just don’t want to stay here much longer. But no rush,” Tamika said.
“Did you guys notice Corey Cox?” Cathy asked out of the blue.
“Yeah, he did an interview at the station. He’s a nice guy,” Madison said.
“Yes, he is a cutie,” Cathy said.
Madison and Tamika looked at her, shocked that she would say that. Cathy was an older white woman, and Corey was a younger black man. They just didn’t think Corey would be her cup of tea.
“I love the Knicks, what can I say?” Cathy said when she noticed their surprised looks.
“Yeah, he’s here with his assistant,” Madison said. “Nice guy.”
“His assistant—yeah, OK. We both know what that means,” Cathy added.
“Yeah. She’s assisting him, alright. Assisting him on her knees,” Tamika said.
Madison and Cathy laughed at Tamika’s comments. They knew it wasn’t right to talk about folks, but everyone knew that was what these parties were all about. They were marketed as networking events, but very little networking was done. People usually ended up with people they already knew, and entry-level staff were too afraid to approach the business executives. As a result, the networking was minimal; people were too cool to look eager or ask someone for something. So these events usually ended up being about showing off status and getting gossip about who was with whom and who had left with whom. Industry events served very little purpose most times—that was why Madison didn’t attend many. This one was cool, though, because she got to be sexy, and she enjoyed the free Cîroc.
After about three or four more generic conversations, Madison began to feel as though she had done her time. Cathy had gone to the bar to get another fruity Cîroc concoction, and Tamika was a few feet away talking to a VJ from Fuse. The room was still pretty filled; plenty of people had shown up since Madison had arrived. She could tell that the evening was nowhere near over, and the loft hadn’t seen all its guests for the night just yet. Still, she was ready to call it a night—she still had to work in the morning, and she felt as though a true VIP should know to come late and leave early. She walked across the room to the other side of the floor, figuring she would finish the last few sips of her drink, place it by the bar, and then signal for Tamika to leave with her.
She leaned against the wall and fiddled with her straw. She knew it wouldn’t be long before someone came over to talk with her—everyone wanted a chance to speak with a woman of her influence if they could get a moment alone. Realizing that she might get cornered by someone she really didn’t want to talk to, she began to slowly roam along the wall. There were three big gentlemen standing a few steps away, so instead of walking around them, she decided to just take her last few sips there. Just as she lifted her head from her glass, she felt someone bump into her. When she turned around, it was one of the gentlemen in the group.
“Excuse me,” he said.
“Excuse me,” she said as she reached out her arm to gain some room between them. Just as she stepped away, she recognized one of the other gentlemen in the group. Her head leaned to the side as she tried to register his face and remember where she knew him from. By the time the memory hit her, Polytics had stepped in front of him and was walking toward her. Just as she grasped that Polytics was coming, she also realized that the three gentlemen were his bodyguards.
“What’s up?” he said.
“Hey there, Poly,” she said.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming tonight?”
“Uh…I didn’t know I had to check in with you,” she said.
“Oh, you being a smart ass, I see,” he replied.
“You know, I don’t know where we crossed paths, but you seem to have some things twisted.”
“No, I think you have some things twisted. As I told you the other day, I am no little boy,” Polytics said.
His voice was raised by this time; people had turned around to look to see what was going on. As though his presence didn’t draw enough attention, the sound of his raised voice and the sight of his angry face were not helping at all.
“Would you calm the hell down?” she said.
“No, I am tired of you trying to fucking play me,” he said.
Madison was in shock once again. She realized she might have a bona fide psycho on her hands. Who in a million years would’ve thought a street dude like himself, with this shiny new music career, would act like this? Madison was hoping to avoid a scene and turned to walk away. As she took a step, she felt a large, strong hand grab her arm. She tried to yank it free, but the grip was tighter than she thought. She turned around to see the look in his eyes, and she discreetly asked for the removal of his hand from her arm.
“Yo, come with me downstairs before you make me show my ass in here,” he said.
She looked at him, and he bucked his eyes back at her to send his message to her that he wasn’t playing. Madison knew that if she did not comply, there was a very high possibility that he would only behave worse and embarrass the hell out of her. “I am not being escorted out of here. Let go of my arm, and I will walk with you,” she said.
He let go of her arm, and she began to walk. She glanced over her shoulder, and he was a step behind. From what she could tell, the security guards were only a few steps behind him, and although the five of them exiting at the same time seemed to be attracting all the eyes in that area of the loft, she preferred that the security and others would come with them. She was also kind of hoping that Tamika was close enough to see her leaving with him and would tag along, but for some reason she reached the elevator, and neither Cathy nor Tamika came running up to her asking where she was going. She was heavily contemplating each of her moves, and she quickly decided that trying to get Cathy or Tamika would only incite Polytics to say or do something stupid. She wanted to curse him out, but she couldn’t afford to do it in that room with all those people watching. It was bad enough there would be rumors surfacing from the little scene he had caused; she wasn’t trying to make it worse.
The elevator held just the five of them as they went down. The elevator operator stood stuffed in the corner, trying to squeeze in with these muscular men; he had asked one of them to stay behind when they were all getting on, but they had refused. Madison stood a few feet away from Polytics, from this artist who had seemed so charismatic and respectable in his music videos and in the public eye, but, as she was realizing, was not quite mentally stable.
The elevator doors opened, and they were back on the lobby floor. This time it wasn’t as crowded as when Mad
ison had arrived. They all trickled into the lobby. A few cameras went off—seemed to be some Web-site photographers and possibly some press. Madison couldn’t tell at all because her main goal was trying not to be in the shot. Polytics didn’t seem to realize that leaving the party with the program director of Drama 99 FM would make for a good news story on All-HipHop.com.
Once they made it outside, Polytics’s Suburban was parked right in front. As much as Madison didn’t want to be with him, she was happy to get in the truck, knowing no one could see them any longer or take any more pictures. They got in, and two of the security guards went to the Suburban across the street; one got in their front seat. Madison and Polytics were in the backseat.
“You just love drawing attention to yourself, don’t you?” she asked.
Pow! He suddenly smacked the shit out of her. Madison’s head swung around. She instantly touched her face and looked at him, shocked. Her mouth was dropped open, and no words would come out.
“You got me twisted,” he said. “I am not one of these little artists that you play puppet with. I know who you are and what you do, but at the end of the day we are both not untouchable. You are not going to disrespect me as a man,” he said.
Madison sat quiet. She had never been hit by a man before, and she had no desire to be hit again. When she faced forward, the driver and security guard were faced forward as well, bopping along to the music on the stereo as they drove, or at least they were pretending to.
“So you not going to say anything?” he said.
“What do you want me to say, Clarence? I obviously don’t know you very well, and to be quite honest, I don’t know what to say to you.”
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“It just means that I don’t know what you want from me!” she said. She was hoping he couldn’t hear the fear in her voice and think he should continue to intimidate her, but she was scared to death and knew it was probably obvious.
“All I want from you is your respect, Madison,” he said.
Madison couldn’t help but think how he must be truly crazy; she wondered if he had a real psychological problem. She couldn’t imagine that she had got caught up with the one deranged rapper in New York. What kind of luck was that?
“I respect you,” she said.
“When I met you, I wasn’t flirting with you so you could play my record. I was really digging you,” he said.
“I understand,” she said.
“When we had sex in your office, I didn’t want that to be the end of us. That was not all I wanted from you. I could get sex anywhere,” he said.
“I understand.”
“Stop saying you understand, yo! Say what you feel,” he said.
She could tell he was becoming a bit flustered. “Clarence, I am going to be honest with you. I have never slept with an artist before while I was in this position at the station. You were the first. It was something I did without thinking. You were attractive, and there was something about you I was feeling. I wasn’t trying to play you, but I realized that if anyone found out about you and me, it could cost me my job and my relationship,” she said.
“Relationship?” he asked. “You never told me you were in a relationship.”
“Clarence, we barely had a chance to talk about our personal lives. I don’t know, I assumed you had a girlfriend, too.”
“Well, I don’t. I am single, and that’s why I thought it was possible that things didn’t have to end after that one night.”
“My man and I have been having a lot of problems—to be honest, I haven’t been that happy with him. I wasn’t trying to play you. You were definitely what I wanted and needed at that time. However, as flattered as I am that you wanted to be with me, even if I were single, due to my job, it wouldn’t work,” she said.
“I could take care of both of us. My money is right,” he said.
“That’s nice of you, Clarence, but it’s not that simple.”
Madison had almost forgotten for a second that she had a red, throbbing cheek. Just hearing him open up and finally listen to what she was saying without going postal was alluring to her. She felt her phone vibrate through her purse. She pulled the bag open, flipped her phone over, and saw it was Tamika calling. She knew now wasn’t the time to answer.
“Yeah, well. It can be worked out if you want it to be,” he said.
He sounded like a ten-year-old boy. She knew he was younger than her, but she never would have thought he would be the one catching feelings. It was sweet, she had to admit, but his dose of psycho behavior dampened all his charm. Hoping to keep him calm and not feeling “disrespected as a man,” Madison thought it was best to just keep the conversation at this level. She didn’t want to seek an apology for his violence and invoke another outburst, and she didn’t want to sound as if she weren’t open to options and possibly upset him.
“I will think it through, Clarence, and we will talk about it next week, I promise. I just need some time to think about all this,” she said. “For now, can you just drop me up the street on Fourteenth? I am supposed to meet a friend.”
“Why can’t I come? It’s a guy friend?” he asked.
“No, it’s a girl. I was at that party with her, but I left without her to talk to you,” she said.
He looked at her and then sat up and leaned forward.
“Yo, stop at Fourteenth Street,” he told the driver.
“Thanks,” she said as he leaned back.
He sat back and looked out the window. “Listen, Madison, I’m sorry if I’ve been rough or too aggressive. I am a man who knows what he wants. I really am feeling you. You are a successful, attractive, mature young woman, and I can use you on my team,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said. “You want me to join your team, Clarence? I have a job.”
“No, like, to have my back. Hold me down. Be my lady,” he said.
“You can have any woman you want. Why do you want me?”
When she’d first felt attraction toward him, she recalled being a bit insecure and competitive with his exotic women company, but now she felt totally different and could care less if she wasn’t his cup of tea.
“They come a dime a dozen. I can have truckloads of them, but ones like you aren’t as easy to find,” he said.
Madison couldn’t lie to herself and say she wasn’t flattered. He was a younger, richer man. She had to admit that if she didn’t have to worry about her job and he wasn’t so unpredictable and possibly crazy, she would consider leaving Jamahl for a walk on the fun side with Polytics.
“I appreciate that, and I will definitely consider your offer. It’s just that my career means a lot to me.”
“If you end it with me, I am going to share our little secret, and then your career won’t be all that sound anyway,” he said.
She looked at him, shocked again. “Are you threatening me?” she asked.
He looked back at her with a blank stare.
“You are joking, right?” she asked.
“Not really. I want you, Madison. I won’t do you dirty—just give me a chance.”
Madison just sat there, trying to think exactly what she was supposed to say at this point. This man was really off his rocker. She wondered how he had ever gained this much power and popularity without anyone noticing. Then she realized how accommodating his team was—they probably all knew and just didn’t say a word because he was feeding them all.
Fourteenth Street was the next corner, and she could feel the Suburban slowing down.
“I will call you soon—I’m just asking that you give me time to think,” she said.
“I will be out of the country for the next few days. How much time?” he asked.
“A week or two, just give me that. Don’t come to the office, don’t stop me if you see me out. Just give me the time to think.”
“OK, but in two weeks we will talk,” he said.
“Yes.”
The car stopped, and she got out. As soon as the
black Suburban pulled off, she hailed a cab to go home.
Chapter 30
She was running late for work. Naomi had been out late the night before and had had a rough time waking up this morning. She spent the entire train ride trying to figure out her thoughts and to self-reflect. She didn’t understand how things were happening so fast. All of a sudden she felt like the popular girl in school—and even when she’d been in school, she hadn’t known what that felt like.
She got off at her stop and began to walk toward the staircase to exit the subway. She noticed a man walking directly in front of her. She could only see a portion of his profile from behind, but from what she could see, he looked like he was a handsome young man. The train platform was too crowded to walk closer to him to get to see more of what he looked like. She could see the tag sticking out of his hat, which was obviously there by mistake—she was close enough to read the XL imprint. She thought maybe she could use that as an excuse to tap him and get a better look at his face and possibly the start of a conversation, too.
She felt desperate, trying to walk as fast as possible to keep up with him in the crowd. She didn’t know why she was so intrigued by a man she didn’t even know and hadn’t seen fully. Maybe it was the curiosity that was killing her—the curiosity about whether his profile and cool demeanor did him justice or whether it was a false advertisement. She could see his fair, medium-brown skin tone, his well-fitting jeans, leather jacket, and stylish paperboy cap. Something was making her follow this man as if she knew exactly the reason.
Finally, he made a turn past the staircase—a turn she had no intention of making—and she realized she would be crazy to follow him. All for what? So she continued her way up the staircase to the upper level of the train station, all while trying to get a few last glances at him. She felt like she was defeated, having never actually seen his face. If she saw him another day with another outfit, she wouldn’t even know it was him. This sucks.
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