Player Haters

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Player Haters Page 4

by Carl Weber


  “Yo, Trent, what’s up? How’d everything work out for you at Chuck E. Cheese?” He stuck his hand out.

  “Oh, man, it was beautiful! I swear, you musta saved me a C-note with those gift certificates the way those kids were usin’ up those tokens.” Trent slapped his hand. “I owe you one for that.”

  “Don’t even worry about it. My sister Trina’s the assistant manager over there. Ain’t no reason to spend money if we ain’t got to. Know what I mean?” Trent’s friend smiled at me, and I felt like melting. He was so fine he was giving me goose bumps. “So who is this fine thing you with? Your new lady?”

  Trent laughed. “Nah, man, this is my sister Melanie. Melanie, this is Prince.” I stuck my hand out, and to my surprise and pleasure he took hold of my hand and kissed it. I don’t think I’ve ever blushed like that before.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Melanie.”

  “Oh, no, the pleasure’s all mine.” I tried not to giggle.

  “You know, I love the way your blond locks highlight your golden brown skin.” I knew he was running game, but it was game I was willing to listen to all night.

  “Thank you,” I whispered timidly.

  “And your eyes. They’re mesmerizing. What color are they?”

  “They’re hazel.”

  “No, you’re wrong. They’re beautiful,” he replied. The two of us were locked in this incredible, electric stare, and he was still holding my hand until Trent interrupted us.

  “What the fuck y’all think this is, Love Connection? Yo, dawg, that’s my sister you tryin’a kick it to.”

  Prince let go of my hand immediately. I wanted to scream at Trent to mind his own fucking business. Why was he so busy hatin’, anyway? But I knew my brother, and nothing I said would have stopped him.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, man, my bad. It’s just that your sister’s so fine.” Prince stared at me as he spoke.

  “Like I said, dawg. That’s my sister. I know you don’t want me rollin’ up to Chuck E. Cheese all up in Trina’s face, do you?”

  Prince hesitated for a second, his eyes never leaving mine. “Nah, I don’t. It was nice meeting you, Melanie.”

  He walked away before I could reply. I turned to Trent with fire in my eyes.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I told you about flirting with my friends.”

  “I’m not sixteen years old anymore, Trent. I’m a grown woman.”

  “Not around my friends you’re not.”

  Trent got up from his chair without another word. He was headed in the direction of Indigo, who had just emerged from a small crowd by the patio doors. I honestly felt sorry for her, ’cause she didn’t know it, but her life was about to be turned upside down. I was tempted to go over there and tell her what Trent was up to, but one hater in the family is enough. So I finished my drink and headed for the door.

  When I got outside the club, some fool had the nerve to scream my name like I wanted the world to know it. “Yo, Melanie! Melanie!”

  I tried to ignore the voice until I looked up and saw the source. Prince emerged from a small crowd wearing a short red and black leather jacket, carrying a matching motorcycle helmet. It took me a few seconds to get myself together, because he looked even sexier than he did in the club.

  “Yo, Melanie. You need a ride?”

  I glanced at the entrance to the club just to make sure Trent hadn’t followed me out.

  “Sure, Prince.” I smiled. “I could use a ride.”

  4

  Trent

  I had no idea what time it was when my bladder woke me up to go to the bathroom. All I knew was that it was dark outside and I was still tired. I tried to ignore the urge and go back to sleep, but there’s nothing more irritating than trying to sleep when you’ve gotta pee. So I got up to relieve myself, then I went into the kitchen to get a drink. I hadn’t even opened the fridge when the phone rang. I glanced at the Caller ID to find out who was calling and the number came up unavailable. I hesitated. Unavailable numbers at this hour of the morning usually meant surprises. I hated surprises, but I answered the phone anyway.

  “Hello?”

  “Trent.”

  Damn. This wasn’t a surprise, this was a disaster. I should have gone with my first instinct and let the phone ring because I recognized the voice right away. It was Michelle, my ex-girlfriend, the only woman other than Melanie and my mother whom I ever really cared about. Michelle was my girl for almost ten years, and I never had as much fun with a woman as I did with her. Yeah, I’d cheated on her countless times throughout our relationship, but I’d never thought about settling down with anyone other than her. Hell, I thought she was my soul mate. At least I did until she ended up pregnant and tried to play me. That’s when the fun and games were over and I had to kick her ass to the curb. I went through nine months of pregnancy with her, and that baby didn’t look anything like me.

  “What you want, Michelle?”

  “What you think I want? I want some money. I want some Pampers. I want you to come see your son. You ain’t come to see this boy since he’s been born. He’s almost eight months old now.”

  “Look, Michelle, I told you that’s not my baby. He’s too dark to be my baby. Now don’t call here no more. Do you understand me?” I was about to hang up the phone when she exploded.

  “Don’t call you! Motherfucker, I’ll call you whenever I want! Who the fuck do you think you’re playin’ with? I’m not one of these stupid bitches you be running game on. I’m Michelle, the bitch that had your baby. You better recognize. Now I need some money, Trent. And your baby needs a daddy!” I could almost see her head twisting as she spoke.

  “I ain’t giving you shit ’cause that’s not my baby. Now don’t call my house no more. How the fuck you get my number anyway?”

  “Your sister-in-law gave it to me when she and your mother came over last week.”

  “What the fuck were they doing over there?”

  “They came to see their grandson and nephew. Everyone knows he’s your baby, Trent. Now if you don’t wanna act like a father on your own, then I’ll make you be a father. You ain’t running around town driving no Mercedes and my baby ain’t got no Pampers. I’ll see you in court, motherfucker.”

  “Is that a threat? I know you didn’t just threaten me.”

  “No. That’s not a threat. That’s a fuckin’ promise. You made me carry this boy for nine months ’cause you wanted to be a daddy like Wil. Then you had the nerve to walk out the delivery room because you thought he was too dark. Fuck you! The least you coulda did was ask for a blood test.”

  “Wasn’t no need for no blood test. I got eyes. I can see that baby don’t look nothing like me.”

  “You one ignorant motherfucker, you know that? Now we might be light, but my daddy was black as coal. And so is your baby.”

  She hung up the phone with a loud click. I was tempted to call her back and put her in her place. I hated when anyone got the last word in an argument, especially a woman. But I decided to let shit die. Michelle knew the deal.

  Remembering why I came into the kitchen in the first place I opened up the fridge and pulled out the orange juice. I took a long swig from the carton before I put it back, then walked into the living room. I was just lucky enough to catch the sun starting to peek over Jamaica Bay through my sliding glass door. Man, I tell you, it was one beautiful sight. I’d made a lot of mistakes in my life recently, but renting this place on the water wasn’t one of them.

  Once the sun was up I decided to head back to my bedroom. That’s when I noticed my office light was on. I walked in to turn it off only to find Indigo, my new friend from the club, standing naked in front of the gold records on my wall. I’d replaced my dentistry degrees with the gold records after Brenda and I had our little falling out over the airline tickets. Little did I know how useful they would be for my newest project.

  Indigo hadn’t noticed I was there yet, so I stood in the doorway admiring her round, ebony-colored ass and shapely legs
. Just the sight of her bare bottom made my nature rise. The first thing that came to my mind was that I should bend her over my desk and take her from behind. I was sure she’d be down for it. She was one hell of a sex kitten, and much more attractive than I had given her credit for in the club. Too bad she didn’t have the brains to match.

  I still couldn’t believe she went for that vice president of Def Jam Records crap I’d thrown at her. It always amazed me how powerful something as simple as a business card could be. When I approached her in the club after her little karaoke performance, of course she didn’t have a damn thing to say to me. She put her hand in my face and turned her head like I wasn’t even there. It was pretty obvious she was still upset about the way I’d refused to buy her a drink. I knew I’d have to treat this situation a little differently to get her attention, so instead of running my usual bullshit I just handed her a business card and walked away. There was no need to make a scene. If I was lucky, she’d look at my card and maybe give me a call in a couple of days. Otherwise, I was pretty sure she was a regular at the bar, so I’d have to work up a Plan B and come back to try again. At least that’s what I thought. But I couldn’t have been more wrong, because I hadn’t even gotten fifteen feet before she was tugging on my arm.

  “You really work for Def Jam?” She studied my face. Maybe she was looking for signs that I was lying, but it didn’t matter. I put on an Academy Award–worthy performance.

  “Yeah, and?” I gave her this cold stare like it wasn’t a big deal at all.

  “So what’s up? Why’d you give me this card?”

  “What you think?” I glanced at my watch as if she were wasting my time. “I like the way you sing. I’m thinking about signing you up to a management contract.”

  “Really?” Her eyes got wide with excitement, but then quickly squinted with suspicion. “You serious? This ain’t no line just to get some ass, is it?”

  “Look, if I wanted some ass I would have bought you that drink earlier and we’d be halfway to my place by now. I don’t have time for games, so either have a seat so we can talk business or move it along.”

  She glanced at the card again, then nodded. “Okay, let’s talk, but this time you’re gonna buy me a drink.”

  I agreed, and the rest is history. Two hours later we were on my couch making love.

  “You know, that could be you someday if you work hard.” I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. She was fingering the frame of one of the gold records. I almost laughed. Women can be so damn gullible.

  “You think so? You think I can really be like them?” She looked back at me with a smile full of wishes.

  “Yeah, I think so.” I gave her a reassuring kiss. “You’ve got more raw talent than half the people I’ve handled. I just wish you had a demo done, ’cause I’d really like for Russell to hear your voice when I meet with him next week.”

  “You said the same thing last night.” She frowned. “We really need a demo, don’t we?”

  “Yeah, we really do.” I gave an exaggerated sigh. “And we need one fast.”

  “Why can’t we just go over to Def Jam and use their studio?”

  “Like I told you last night, it’s against company policy. I can’t use our studio for an unsigned artist. I could get fired. And if I get fired, I can’t help you.”

  “Well, why don’t we use a private studio? I know you must know somebody with a private studio we can use.”

  “Sure, I know lots of people with studios, but they’re not cheap.”

  “How much will it cost?” She was starting to sound desperate.

  “More than you have, I’m sure.” I let go of her waist and sat at my desk, drumming my fingers on the wood like I was thinking.

  “I got money saved. How much is it—”

  I cut her off. “Look, forget about the demo for a minute, all right? Maybe there’s another way we can get your career started. Maybe we should start you off as a backup singer until you can get up enough money for a demo. I heard Alicia Keys is looking for backup singers for her new album. I can make a call.”

  “Backup singer! I don’t wanna be a backup singer!” She was pouting now. “You said you were gonna make me a star.”

  “I am, but it’s gonna take time. I can’t talk to Russell without a demo. I’d get laughed outta the room.”

  “Look, Trent, how much is it gonna cost to do a demo?”

  “I don’t know. I could probably get it done for about four grand.”

  “Four thousand dollars? Is that all? I thought you were gonna say something like twenty thousand.”

  I laughed. “You act like you just got four grand lying around or something.”

  “I do.” She kissed me, then ran into my bedroom.

  I took my time straightening out one of the framed records before I followed her. No need to act anxious. When I finally sauntered into the bedroom, she was standing by my dresser going through her purse. A few seconds later she was sitting on my bed with her checkbook and a pen in hand.

  “Who should I make the check payable to?” I was tempted to tell her just to make it out to cash, but I changed my mind when I saw it was written off a Citibank account.

  I reached down and picked up my pants. I took out my wallet and handed her a business card. “Here, make it out to After Midnight Entertainment. These guys are good. They do a lot of work with Puffy.”

  Without hesitation she wrote the check and handed it to me.

  “No offense, but you sure this check is good? These brothers are good but they’re thugs, and if this check bounces, they’re not coming to look for you, they’re coming straight after me.”

  She reached her arms around my neck and pulled me onto the bed. Then she shoved her checkbook in my face. “It’s good. Look at my balance.”

  “Oh, my God!” I exaggerated my tone. “Where’d you get all that money? You rob a bank or something?”

  “I hit the Pick Five about two weeks ago for a hundred thousand dollars.” She smiled.

  “Get the fuck outta here. You serious?” I raised my eyebrows, giving her a skeptical look.

  She shook her head, kissing me again, this time even more passionately.

  “Now, what’s that for?”

  “That’s for not trying to scam me. I was so afraid you were gonna tell me to write that check out to you.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” I told her, glad that I hadn’t.

  “I know that now, but I had my doubts a few minutes ago.”

  “So you thought I was trying to scam you?”

  “Sorta. I wasn’t really sure. I mean, I believed you at the club, but then when you told me your car was in the shop and you needed a ride home, I thought you were full of shit.”

  “You thought I was full of shit?” I faked a look of wounded pride.

  “Yeah, but once we pulled in front of your apartment, I started to think that maybe I was wrong. I mean, this is one bad ass apartment. I don’t know too many black people who can afford to live on the water.”

  “So that’s what convinced you, huh?”

  “No. To be honest, I wasn’t completely convinced until I saw the gold records.”

  I had to hold back a laugh. Those damn gold records and professional plaques get ’em every time.

  “So when are we gonna do the demo?” she asked.

  “Well, today’s Friday, and I have to get my car from the shop and make arrangements with the studio. How ’bout next Wednesday afternoon?”

  “Wednesday?” she shouted. “That soon?”

  “Yeah, I can do it on Wednesday. That is, if you’re nice to me.”

  I kissed her and she kissed me back, reaching between my legs.

  “Oh, I think I can be nice to you.”

  5

  Wil

  Monday morning I went to work early to look over the previous week’s sales figures for my department. It turned out that leaving work early on Friday hadn’t been the good idea I’d thought. First of a
ll, I would’ve missed that whole stupid fight with Diane if I’d kept my behind at work. And secondly, I could’ve gotten the sales reports that are issued every Friday afternoon. I needed those reports so I could know who to chew out during my sales meeting later this morning. So instead of sleeping until seven, I got up at five and dragged my ass into the office to read the reports before the meeting. I’d been going at it, taking notes for over two hours when I heard a knock on my office door.

  “Come in,” I shouted.

  I never looked up from my reports. I figured it was just my secretary Marge letting me know that she was at her desk if I needed her.

  “Wil, you got a minute?” I took off my reading glasses and looked up from my reports. It was Jeanie Brown, the assistant director of human resources. The only black person working on the executive floor, other than a couple of secretaries.

  “Hey, Jeanie? What’s up?” I smiled.

  Jeanie and I were friendly, but I still didn’t like it when any of the big honchos from upstairs popped up at my door unannounced. It usually meant that someone was gonna lose their job. The last time Jeanie showed up at my door unexpectedly she arrived with pink slips and laid off ten percent of my staff. So I was pretty concerned when she didn’t smile back at me.

  “Wil, I’ve got a little bad news.” Jeanie’s cocoa brown lips curled into a frown.

  I sat back in my chair, nonchalantly wiping away the sweat that was beginning to form on my brow. I gestured for Jeanie to have a seat and when she declined, I braced myself for the worst. I was no longer worried about her laying off some of my staff. I was concerned about being fired myself. Not that it should come as a shock if it happened. My department had missed our sales quota the last two months. Not by much, but we still missed and as the sales manager, the black sales manager I might add, that meant my head was the one that was gonna roll. The funny thing is, I’d been expecting bad news all weekend. I just never expected it would be losing my job.

 

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