by Love Belvin
Lucky for me, I’d had Myisha buy something for Trent and Jade’s new baby in August before I started this fake marriage campaign. It was when I found out about Jade’s pregnancy. I knew it was Trent’s first baby and understanding the drama he’d been through over the past five years or so, I was happy for this blessing of his. Trent was good people. I took the gift over myself when he’d taken a few days off to care for Jade in her last days of pregnancy. And because of that rare show of support I made, my request to visit Jade’s suite for the game with my new bride was met with nothing but generosity and excitement.
Jade was happy to see me and was crazy welcoming to Wynter. In fact, she was so hospitable, after coming over to Azmir’s suite and meeting his family, Wynter opted to go back to chill with Jade and the new baby. Azmir somewhat summoned me, so I stayed to finish the game with him.
“Yo.” I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Azmir. “I know you gotta roll. Let me rap to you for a minute.”
His daughter, Kennedy, went for his legs, wrapped her little arm around one while she swung over to the other with ease. She teased her brother while carrying on with our made-up chant. Lil Dasu pushed me at the thigh to chase her. Before long, they were off, running around the suite as they had been practically the whole time I’d been in here.
After we went off to the bar, Azmir ordered another Mauve.
“How ‘bout you?” Azmir offered.
I nodded, realizing the game may have been over, but I wasn’t driving tonight. The moment the bartender turned to grab tumblers, Divine got started.
“Everything good with you?”
“I’ve seen worse days.” I scratched under my lip, hated the answer more than I did the question.
“Your wife adjusting to the life of Ragee?”
I understood the question.
“Nah.” I nodded toward the waiter when our glasses were placed in front of us. “I don’t see her moving any faster than Rayna did.”
“Yeah, but my shortie didn’t marry a celebrity.”
“She married money, though. And big money at that.”
He scoffed at my dry sarcasm. I wasn’t easy with conversation about Wynter. So much had changed over the past few days with us. Things I couldn’t explain, neither did I understand. The bottom line was, it wasn’t easy speaking freely about something that wasn’t real.
Azmir’s gaze went over his shoulder at Rayna, who was playing ring around the rosy with their tots. “Yeah, but she didn’t marry a man with a false reputation.” His eyes were on me again. “It ain’t my business to speak on how quick the wedding was—or the announcement of her existence. I just wanna make sure you’re good and ain’t ahead of yourself.”
I took a swig of my drink. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
Azmir Divine Jacobs was no fool. He was far more conversant with the industry than I was and as he said, he was no celebrity. But talking about my arrangement with Wynter was off the table.
“It means I know who you fucking with. I know his breed. We’re from the same era. Same hood.”
“You ‘bout to hit me with that Brooklyn shit?” I chuckled, going for my drink again.
Azmir’s eyes swept behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Wynter coming in. Her eyes lit up at Rayna and the kids playing. She dropped her bag and coat and went straight to them. Wynter lowered on her haunches in heels and black fishnet stockings with the Ase Garb logo running through them under a fitted skirt. Her thighs were squeezed together, her face open with wonder, and eyes sparkling at the little people. She seemed to be good with kids. She’d been really friendly to everybody today…like a pro.
“Nah,” Azmir’s voice brought my attention back. “Mike Brown been wildin’ lately. Been in some shit with True Blue I don’t care to help him out of because I don’t wanna get involved again.”
I knew Azmir had called a truce on Mike and True’s beef the last time when things got thick, but this sounded serious.
“What did he do?”
“It’s now over money and ego. Mike think he’s dealing with a level headed cat his age. True skipped the same number of years in development that he’s done in the pen. They recruit those kids with no conscience, probably worse than the crackhead babies’ generation. These young gunners are ruthless. Mike B keeps poking at them, trying to steal artists, fucking baby’s mothers, and now taking on debt.”
“What debt?”
I was confused. The first time I’d heard of this was when Josh put the bug in my ear. Then I saw the blogs and TMZ running off with it. Those sources were loose. A.D. Jacobs’ word was solid.
“True Blue’s saying Mike owes him money on the artist he tried to snatch.”
“But I heard he didn’t. True blocked it.”
Azmir nodded while swallowing back his drink. “Yeah. Then he shelved the project, basically ripping up their contract. Now he’s saying Mike owes him the money from the artist’s potential earnings.”
“Whoa…” I breathed.
I didn’t involve myself in Mike’s business anymore. I’d never been his only artist to manage. I’d simply been the only successful artist he’d managed. We had a tight relationship until a couple of years ago, but I never asked him about business outside of mine.
“My point in bringing all this up is to make sure he ain’t pushing you into no bullshit, no matter the form.” With his forehead, he pointed toward Wynter as she laughed with Rayna.
Again, Azmir was no fool. He probably knew the marriage wasn’t real. But I wouldn’t confirm or deny it.
“I’m goo—” I tried.
“Anyway,” he breathed, standing from the barstool. “I need to go congratulate my team.” He pulled his pants up as he spoke. “They are, after all, the number one NFL team. No need to keep them waiting.”
I chuckled at his seriousness. “You know you ain’t a player, manager, or owner. Right?”
“Nah.” He smiled real smug like. “I’m bigger than all those, my G. I’m the fuckin’ man.”
“Aye!” Rayna yelled over to him.
Azmir and I fell out laughing. He reached over for some dap.
“I’m doing better with it.” He laughed. “I swear I am.”
“Yeah,” I snorted. “You see how hard this Christ walk is now, bruh.”
It had been more challenging for me than it had in years, thanks to these new circumstances.
“Yo, Winny!” I called out, teasing her. She gazed over to me, standing. I pulled out my phone to text the car. “We’ve overstayed our welcome. Let’s bounce.”
“Oh, stop it, Raj!” Rayna scolded me with a smile. “This was fun. We have to do it again.”
That was the same thing Jade said.
“I’ll make it happen,” I promised before swallowing back the last of my brandy.
It had been a long day of introductions, dodging indirect questions of the happenings of my world, and the obligatory pictures. Jade’s family and a few of Azmir’s crew asked for them as soon as I hit the door. Wynter didn’t have to ask Jade for a picture together. Jade was on it already. But it was good. And genuine. If I wasn’t so wound up with keeping up with a fictitious storyline, I’d admit to actually enjoying myself around good people.
When we arrived back at the hotel, I didn’t expect to see Jashon and Tina in our suite, busy in the bedroom we used for our clothes and to dress. I paced curiously toward the room. Jashon noticed me first and smiled brightly and with familiarity.
“Everything all right?” I asked with my own smile in tow.
“Yeah. Just getting you packed up and consolidating your luggage.” He winked. “Organizing it, too.”
“Oh, okay,” I uttered, unsure.
I knew we were due to leave first thing in the morning. What I didn’t know was I needed help packing. I backed out of the room, en route to the living room to dump my heavy coat. I was so distracted by their presence, I’d forgotten to do that when we came in. It was close to midnight and I was tired and h
ungry. After not getting much sleep last night, I was looking forward to a few hours of rest—on a mattress—before our early flight in the morning.
When I made it to the living room, I saw Raj standing near the window, speaking low on the phone. His coat was still on. I felt my face tighten and brows meet. That was strange.
As though he sensed me and my confusion, he slowly turned to me and looked me up and down.
“Hold on, Qua,” he requested of the caller before lowering the phone to speak to me. “We pull out in ten minutes. Grab all your things.”
“Apparently, my things are being organized for me. You’re packed, too?”
“I should be. Jashon should have all that handled.” His brows furrowed this time. “You good?”
“Yeah. I just thought we were leaving in the morning.”
“Change of plans.” His regard fell to the floor and those curly lashes batted. “We’ll be off the grid for a few days, so you may wanna avoid Myisha and ya boss.”
“My boss?”
“Mike Brown.”
I wanted to scream he was no boss of mine, but I could tell Ragee was expressing humor.
“Why?”
“Because you can’t stay twenty-nine forever and I ain’t tryna miss this one, too.” He winked before going back to his call.
“Mr. McKinnon,” the captain quietly called over the cabin speaker. “We’re due to land in three minutes.”
At that, I sat up and looked at Wynter, asleep in my arms. Her faded red lips slacked and her face angelic as she slept. Slowly, I reached behind her to feel for her seatbelt only to learn she never took it off after we ascended. Then I eased mine on as best as I could with one hand; my left arm was preoccupied by sleeping beauty. I glanced out the window to the right of me and caught the start of the Caribbean sunrise. It was just before six in the morning. Wynter fell out an hour into the flight when I wouldn’t tell her our destination. She was a little salty, but I didn’t let that break me.
“Hey…” I whispered, flexing my arm around her back and waist to wake her. “Wynter.”
Her eyes fluttered open to pink saucers. She was tired.
“We’re about to land,” I whispered. “Plus, I want you to see the sunrise. It’s gorgeous.”
Slowly, her sleepy eyes floated to the window next to me. I followed her line of sight and until we landed, she snuggled more into me as our attention was out there. The cresting sun seemed just outside of our window, it was that prominent at this latitude.
The landing was smooth and fast. A car was waiting for us at the airport. I helped Wynter off the plane while our things were being transferred to another vehicle that would soon follow us to the resort.
“Welcome to Saint Justin, Mr. and Mrs. McKinnon,” a thick accent greeted us, holding the door open to a limo.
Wynter’s head shot up to me with wild eyes and she sucked in a breath as she tried controlling her smile. I didn’t speak, didn’t want to or know how. I had no idea what I was doing. I only knew what was on my heart to do for her.
I sent Jashon and Tina back to Jersey with laced pockets for their zipped lips while my security came with us. They would drive in behind us with our luggage. On the ride to the resort, Wynter didn’t speak much. It was late and early for us. I didn’t sleep a bit on the flight, and while she did, I was sure it wasn’t restful.
The concierge awaited us at the resort with a smile too big for the hour and a bouquet of exotic flowers for Wynter. We were escorted to our bungalow right away and shown the room we’d share for the next few days.
As we glanced around the small contemporary area, I asked, “You good?”
Wynter turned to me and blinked while shaking her head. “Wow…” she laughed hoarsely. “That’s all I can say. This is…amazing.”
Her eyes roamed around the bedroom area where a king sized bed sat on a platform, the small dining area we likely wouldn’t use, and the sitting room where there was a big, mounted television.
“We won’t be in here much. That’s why the place is so small.” I nodded toward the small eating area with a view of the beach in the back of the bungalow. “It’s small because we’ll eat over the water—”
“Ah…” the concierge interjected behind me “…unless it rains. At which time we can provide a covering for comfortable dining, or you can eat in here. We’d set up the most romantic tabletop.” He offered a bow. “I know the hour is odd, but is there anything I can get for you to help get you settled in?”
My eyes shot over to Wynter, who stood still in high heels and wintery clothes.
“Ummmm…” She let out a deep breath as she cupped her forehead. “I’m fine. I’m a little hungry, but just need to wash off yesterday, including this makeup.”
That reminded me we didn’t have much of a dinner last night. In the short timing of this trip, I didn’t charter food for the flight.
“A small tray of assorted fruits and vegetables and someone to run a hot bath, please,” I asked the waiting concierge.
“Right away, sir.” He turned and spoke to the woman waiting at the door, who came in right away and headed to the bathroom. Then he left out.
“How…” Wynter tried, hand still gripping her forehead. “When?”
I started tugging at my shirt to pull it off. “You said you wanted a change of weather. That’s when it popped in my head, but I didn’t know how I could pull it off and stay low with it. Then when you told me your birthday passed, I thought, Forget that, and made a few calls to make it happen.” My t-shirt was next then I pulled at my belt.
Wynter peeked over her shoulder at the bathroom where the water was running, and turned back with a sneaky grin, going for her heeled boots.
“I can’t believe you did all this. Shit, it doesn’t feel real. Between being fatigued and in paradise, I feel like I’m stuck in a dream!”
I chuckled, pulling off my socks. “No dream. Just a break from our reality.”
“Next time you need a break, remember how cool of a travel partner I am. Please!” She giggled while pulling down her stockings.
She was beautiful. Her thick thighs were more defined now, toned. Her waistline was small, narrowing nicely between her tits and hips. Wynter was thick from the day I met her, but nothing extreme. Her explanation of quick weight gain explained the stretchmarks. And even they were sexy. Everything about her appealed to me, and I knew it was because the attraction began from inside of her rather than the outside. No. Physically, there was nothing wrong with her. Wynter was beautiful with mild features and a feminine shape, but that wasn’t our connection point. I didn’t have it all figured out yet, but I knew there was one and I wanted to ease into it.
“Senor, Senora,” a call from the other side of the bungalow had Wynter leaping into the air, hiding behind me. “Your bath is ready. I’m going to receive your food now.”
I snickered quietly at Wynter’s jumpiness.
“Gracias!” she shouted behind me.
I wanted to moan, I felt so good. The fragrant water was set to a spicy temperature, and felt like silk rubbing against my tight joints. Gradually, they were relaxing and loosening in their float. My belly was contented after being fed fresh exotic fruits and vegetables by his hand. Soft petals of an exotic purple hued flower, mostly grown in Saint Justin—per the sweet woman who ran the bath—floated around our intermingled bodies as we faced a floor to ceiling window. The sun was up, orangey in color at his hour as we faced the perfect view of it from the bathroom.
This was unreal. Unfucking-real! I was in the Caribbean—next door to Puerto Rico, to be exact—with Ragee, of all people! And he’d been sweet, attentive, and subdued with a disposition I had yet to figure out. Then again, Ragee McKinnon wasn’t a man who could be learned. He was one that could only be survived and enjoyed—when he was ready.
I eased back more into his hard frame, enjoying his virile nearness. My head rolled back on his chest to peer up at him. He opened one lid as he relaxed back on the padded li
p. I couldn’t help my giggle. I was delirious with exhaustion. I needed real sleep after a night of touching, reverse cowgirling, and a day of meeting celebrities and the highfalutin’ people of Raj’s world. They were all nice and welcoming, but strangely eager with their reception of him. They treated him like Michael Jackson, as though his public appearance was rare and appreciated. It was strange, but nice.
“How long are we here?”
“Two…three days, depending on how you like it,” his thick coarse voice produced hoarsely.
“I love it enough already to stay the max time.”
He smiled, and for a while, didn’t speak.
“Then let’s stay as long as we can without the outside world. Just us.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?” The water swished as I turned to lay my chest against his bubbled abs.
Raj’s heavy eyes still sparkled as he peered down on me. “It means, out here we’re not Mr. and Mrs. McKinnon. We’re Ragee and Wynter. We get to know each other for who we were before the fakery.”
“How do we do that?”
“No social media. We ditch Mike and Myisha, who I told I brought you with me to a last minute recording in L.A. with Young Lord, even though I was upset at the inconvenience of having you travel with me.”
“Geesh…” I grated, rolling my eyes.
“And I told them you dropped your phone in the tub and I’ll have Danny G take you to get a new one while we’re out there. That should give us a few days of down time.”
“Won’t they call Lord?”
He stretched out beneath me. “Nah. I already gave him the heads up. Plus, they don’t know him like that to call anyway. And they’re used to me going off the grid.”
I chuckled, easily believing that.
Then his wet hand grabbed me at the chin. Those auburn, beady eyes imploring me. “I mean it, Wynter. No social media or outside contact until we leave. I don’t even want people to know we’re here.”
“Why?” My face constricted with confusion, anger.
