My Baby Is a West Coast King

by Shvonne Latrice

  I hadn’t been in California but for two weeks, and I already had two well paying jobs lined up. Jude had us doing the most in the little time that I’d been here, so my face was becoming pretty well known all over social media.

  So far, I’d been contacted by a hair company and an up and coming make-up line to do some promotional photo shoots for their product. When they asked me how much I charged, I was so caught off guard that I didn’t answer for a full day. Jude told me to tell them two hundred an hour for a five-hour job, which was more money than I’d ever made off of any modeling job. He said I had more experience than most, so I should charge as such.

  Usually I got paid whatever was being offered, and that was never more than three hundred dollars flat. Even though I felt like my request for two hundred an hour would get denied, I did as Jude said, and to my surprise, they agreed. So next week, I’d be getting two thousand dollars from just two jobs. Not to mention I was about to receive three thousand to host some mid level R&B singer named Zaelyn’s birthday party this weekend. I couldn’t wait to tell Erynne and my grandmother.

  “Hey, beautiful, can I talk to you in my office for a second?” Jude knocked and peeked his head into Cassie’s and my room.

  “Oh sure.”

  I hopped off of my king-sized bed and followed him downstairs and back to his office. It was huge, and decorated with expensive furniture. We took a seat on his brown sectional, and he reached into his mini fridge to hand me a Fiji water before speaking.

  “So I think your trial run has been great. But how are you feeling about the house and the girls?” he asked.

  “I love it. I mean, of course we don’t all get along, but we respect one another, which is more important. I really like Cassie, and Rita too, sometimes.”

  He laughed at my comment about Rita.

  “Cool. So I guess that means you want to stay?”

  “I do.”

  “So I printed up a contract, and basically this is just to ensure that I get a portion of what you make on jobs, like the ones coming up.”

  “Oh.”

  I took the contract and scanned the first page for a few. I admit I was a little bit surprised by this but I guess it made sense. I wouldn’t have gotten those two photo shoots had I not been seen on The Model Instagram page, and had I not been seen with some of the girls and the few rappers we’d partied with.

  “Pen?” He handed it over.

  “Can I take some time just to read everything and then I will go ahead and sign it. I just wanna make sure there is nothing in here saying I have to like make you breakfast every morning,” I joked, not wanting him to think I didn’t trust him.

  “Oh, absolutely. Just have it back to me by the weekend, before the photo shoots and Zaelyn’s party.”

  “No problem.”

  We both stood up, and as I was walking out he asked, “Laine, I noticed one of these nights you didn’t come home. Not that I want to control you, but I like to know where my girls are in case something happens.”

  “Of course. I spent the night with a friend. I was too tired to have him— them drive me home, so I just slept over.”

  “Alright, well next time just let me know. Cool?”

  “Cool.”

  I darted up the stairs and into my room, placing the contract on my nightstand. I saw Rita and Cassie were on the balcony connected to my room, so I went outside to chill for a little bit before I went out with Mischief.

  “What happened? Another job?” Cassie grinned. She, too, had gotten a couple bookings, so we were both on cloud nine as of late.

  “No, he asked me to sign my contract.”

  “Oh yeah. Just sign it, he only takes ten percent,” Rita shrugged, inhaling on her blunt.

  “Only? That’s one hundred dollars from two of my jobs,” I frowned.

  “Yeah, ten percent is a lot, but I signed the shit because I need the money I do get from bookings, and the exposure. Just think, we won’t be part of this shit forever. It’s just a stepping stone,” Cassie explained, and I nodded in agreement after taking in her words.

  “I guess,” I huffed. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

  “Where are you going this evening?” Cassie inquired as Rita looked on.

  “I have a date. Mischief wants to take me to Fleming’s all the way in Manhattan Beach,” I grinned.

  He was determined to take me somewhere fancy, and even though I told him it was okay, he insisted. He told me he’d finally gotten payment from this one rapper, and since it was a large sum, he wanted to treat me. For some reason that was so romantic, which made me laugh because his crazy rude ass was anything but.

  “Damn, Fleming’s? You must have slept with him,” Rita chuckled, shaking her head.

  “Actually, no, I didn’t. I don’t plan to either.”

  “You don’t?” both Cassie and Rita exclaimed, looking at me like I was crazy, so we all had to laugh.

  “Girl, if I could, I would let him sex me all over Los Angeles. He’s an asshole though, and got some mental issues,” Rita raised her brows.

  Mischief had already told me she tried to sleep with him and he told her to go play in traffic. He said she was a hoe, and that she’d let a couple of his friends fuck.

  “She likes them crazy, Rita, she’s from South Side Chicago,” Cassie joked.

  “Anyways, yes, I do like him, but I wish I didn’t. I kind of feel like I’m wasting my time with him because he told me straight up he didn’t want a girlfriend. But I really fucking like his weird ass, and I don’t want to stop talking to him.”

  “Just fuck him and tell us what the dick is like,” Cassie blurted, making us chuckle.

  “Honestly, we all wanna know. Mischief gets around, but bitches act like it’s top secret when they get him and don’t wanna tell nobody how it is. I think he threatens them so they stay tight lipped. But what I do know is girls love to claim him behind his back, but won’t dare do so in his face because they know he’ll embarrass them. Happened before to that girl Ramona I told you about Cassie, remember?”

  “Oh wow, her?” Cassie giggled.

  “Yep. Walked up in the studio talking about Mischief was her nigga, and I swear he looked at her like she had sprouted two heads before shutting that shit down.”

  Inhaling and exhaling sharply, I stared off the balcony watching some of the other girls in the Jacuzzi. Everything in me said to focus on my career and nothing else, but I wanted him… even if it was just as a friend. We always wanted things we didn’t need, right?

  After showering, I got dressed in some open toe stiletto heels, light blue skinny jeans, and a spaghetti strap crop top. I left my hair down and wore gold jewelry.

  We had a Fleming’s back in Illinois and I knew it was upscale but I’d never been. I told Mischief I didn’t have fancy attire for a fancy eatery, but he said “fuck them niggas; my money spends the same as them muthafuckas in suits and Cavalli dresses.” His words, not mine. I laughed at my thoughts as I hopped into one of Jude’s cars and peeled out.

  He told me to meet him at the studio and he would drive me. He offered to pick me up, but I said no because I knew if I spent the night again, he’d be fucking my brains out.

  Swooping into a park, I stepped out and gave subtle smiles to the niggas chilling outside and throwing out compliments at me. Making my way into the studio room Mischief worked in, I saw him bobbing his head with his lips tucked in, looking sexy as hell. He was wearing a red quarter sleeve button up, showing his muscular arms, which were both covered with tattoo sleeves. His jeans were dark and crisp, flowing right down to his red and black retro Jordan 3’s. His jewelry was gold today, but still subtle. As for his cologne, it was the same, Burberry, and he smelled so good.

  Other people were in the room, his brother, Chaz, who introduced himself to me, his cousin who did the same, and one other guy that I’d seen before but didn’t care to know. After greeting them, I took a seat on the couch.

  “Up here,” Mischief turned to me
when he saw me sit on the couch. As I got close to him up at the soundboard, he said, “Fuck you walking up in my shit and not speaking to me for?”

  Please don’t shoot me.

  “I saw you in the zone, my bad.” I sat in the chair next to him and he yanked it closer to his.

  “Give me a kiss.” He demanded it like I was his girlfriend or something. However, a bitch didn’t hesitate to lay a sweet peck on his soft lips. “Don’t ever walk into a room that I’m in and not come to me,” he spoke lowly, just so I’d hear. “I don’t want niggas around me thinking they can spit game.”

  “Wouldn’t that be too much like a girlfriend?”

  “When I’m in your presence, you’re my girl and I’m your nigga,” he grinned, which unfortunately made me blush.

  “And when I’m not in your presence?”

  “I’ll be thinking about you.”

  We both laughed as I playfully rolled my eyes at him.

  “Whatever, Shai.”

  “Give me like five minutes so he can finish this verse and then we can go. I made reservations and I want to be on time.”

  “Because you hate being late.”

  “And because I wanna show them uppity muthafuckas black folks can be on time.”

  We chuckled in unison before he pecked me again and started the music back up. The guy in the booth, Cardio, didn’t get two words out before some nigga walked into the studio room, prompting Mischief to stop the music.

  “Can I help you?” he looked to the guy with furrowed brows. I glanced over my shoulder to see some nigga with long brown dreads.

  “Yeah, we got this room right now.”

  “Nah, no one uses this room with me. You must be mistaken my nigga,” Mischief replied.

  “No, I’m not mistaken. This is the room I booked and y’all need to step.”

  Laughing angrily, Mischief replied, “Aye homie, like I said, this ain’t the room you booked. Now I suggest you go to the front and figure it the fuck out.”

  “Man, fuck you,” the dread head hissed, turning on his heels.

  “Fuck you say blood?” Mischief questioned calmly, rising from his seat.

  “Baby,” I said, but it fell on deaf ears.

  “Mischief, bro, chill. Fuck this nigga,” Chaz rose to his feet as well, trying to calm his brother down who was giving dread head a death stare.

  “Like I said, fuck you,” the dread head repeated, and before he even finished, Mischief was halfway across the room trying to fuck him up.

  Lucky for the guy, Chaz and his cousin Ishmael were able to hold Mischief back, as the dread head darted off and out the room. They held Mischief for a few more moments until he growled for them to let him go. He appeared to be calm, but as soon as Chaz and Ishmael started back to their seats, Mischief rushed out the room in search of the dread head. Chaz and Ishmael were right on his heels, calling his name.

  “Nigga about to lose his teeth,” the guy I had failed to be introduced to chuckled as he fired up a blunt.

  Was this really happening right now? And I didn’t know if I was supposed to do anything. What could I do though? I was half Mischief’s size, if that much.

  About ten minutes passed before the three guys returned. I saw Chaz was frowning, Ishmael was laughing but lowly, and Mischief was looking calm. I did notice his chest was heaving up and down slightly.

  “Let’s go, baby, we don’t wanna be late.” He reached for my hand, and once I put mine into his he led me out.

  “You have blood on your shirt,” I said once we’d gotten into his car. I noticed it when he opened the passenger door for me.

  “Shit, good thing I’m wearing red,” he laughed as if this was funny.

  “What did you do to that guy?”

  “See for yourself.” He pointed out my window.

  When I looked, I saw the dread head a little ways down from the studio door, being helped into the car by two girls. I could tell his face was fucked up, but when I tried to get a better look, Mischief zoomed off with his music blasting, bobbing his head like this was the norm for him, and clearly it was. I hadn’t known him long and already witnessed him knock the dog shit out of two people.

  “I can’t believe you.”

  “You like it.”

  He switched lanes, keeping his eyes on the road. I hated when he said things and didn’t look at me like he just knew what he said was fact and didn’t need to see my face to confirm. But did I get mad? No, my horny ass just admired his sexy side profile and the way his tongue ran across his bottom lip.

  “I don’t like it or you.”

  “You don’t like me?” He gripped my thigh with his big hand, and brushed his thumb across the top of my thigh. The way his hands felt against my body, even with the jeans as a barrier, was to die for. “Look at you,” he laughed, dipping through traffic down Hawthorne Boulevard. “When you gon’ stop pretending and let me fuck you, Laine? You soaked the crotch of your jeans.”

  I almost broke my neck to look down, and immediately felt dumb when he started laughing hard as hell. I’d basically just confessed that he’d turned me on. I couldn’t even believe I fell for that shit.

  “Look, I told you we’re never having sex. I don’t have fuck buddies.” I was begging God for strength because I wasn’t sure how long I could hold out. He got me wet off simple things like touching my thigh.

  “Aight.”

  A Night to Remember Part II….

  We made it to Fleming’s on time, and like I’d suspected, it was very upscale. Since we had a reservation and there weren’t many people here, we were seated as soon as we stepped into the place. The waiter wasted no time coming over to get our drink orders, and since we’d already discussed the food on the way over here, we knew what we wanted and put that in too.

  “This better be good, because I’ve never had prime rib.”

  “It’s good, baby. Gonna be the best steak you’ve ever had. You gon’ be begging me to bring you here from tomorrow on,” he flashed me his beautiful cocky smile before sipping some of the water brought to the table. “So tell me what I have to make right.”

  “What?”

  “With you. Why does your ex have you so guarded I guess? When I told you it seemed like I scared you, I didn’t necessarily mean like a horror movie, I meant emotionally. You seem like you don’t want me to know you some days.”

  “Oh.” I inhaled sharply, trying to think if I wanted to tell him about Tarik. “It’s nothing new that hasn’t been said or done. I fell in love with a guy who promised me things and I believed it. Then I was blindsided.” I shrugged as if it was nothing, but just the thought of Tarik giving me that STD almost made me lose my appetite. On the bright side, my doctor called me and told me it was all cleared up.

  “Blindsided how? He got a baby or what?” Mischief frowned, and I could tell his brain was going crazy trying to figure out what it was. His deep golden complexion complemented his sexy features so well, right along with that beard.

  “I wish it was a baby. But umm,” I toyed with the tablecloth. “He gave me chlamydia and umm, yeah, so I ended that.”

  Why did you tell him stupid?

  “Wow, that’s nasty as fuck. Not saying anything about you, but it’s like come on nigga. If you gon’ cheat, at least be safe with the shit.”

  “Or just not cheat at all.” I raised my brow, and he just laughed and nodded. “But it’s gone now and so is he.”

  “How long ago?”

  “Not that long. We broke up like almost a month ago now.”

  “Well I hope you don’t have any feelings left for him because I won’t allow that shit. Not just because you’re mine, but because he’s a fuck nigga, passing out diseases and shit.”

  Hearing him say I was his gave me butterflies. It also was a slight relief because I was sure after I told him my STD story, he would be turned off.

  “I’m yours? Like your girlfriend?” I cheesed, messing with him.

  “Nah, I don’t even know you well
enough for that. But I got dibs on you, meaning niggas around me are gonna know you’re off limits.”

  “I see.”

  We continued our conversation until the appetizer and then the dishes came. He was right, the steak was cooked to perfection, and the customer service was even better. I didn’t want to get dessert in fear of it costing too much, but Mischief insisted. When the bill came, I almost fainted, and even felt bad for eating so much.

  “This is a lot, Mischief. Let me pay half,” I said, looking at the two-hundred-dollar bill. I didn’t have much in my account, but I had enough to pay a portion of this.

  “Don’t insult me,” was all he said, no smile in sight. I hadn’t known him long, but in the time I had, I knew when not to challenge him.

  He counted out the right amount of cash, along with a hefty tip for the exceptional waiter, and then got up to help me from the table like a gentleman.

  After leaving Fleming’s, we went back to the studio so I could get my car, and then I followed him to his spot in Compton. When we got up inside, he brought out some champagne and took me straight to his bedroom.

  “Why do use a studio in Redondo Beach if you live in Compton?” I quizzed as he filled my flute.

  “Because when I used to record in Compton, niggas would be scared to come out here and work. I mean, I guess because I grew up over here it ain’t shit to me, but niggas are really afraid. I got a homegirl who be charging niggas for tours of the city.” He sat down on his bed next to me and removed his shoes.

  “They really pay for that?”

  “Yeah, they do. And then she has some of the homies rob whomever she brings,” he chuckled, and even though I didn’t want to, I had to admit that was kind of funny.

  “Who is Sammi?”

  Choking on his champagne, he hit his chest and set his glass down on the nightstand. He turned to me smiling and asked, “Who?”

  I’d never seen him smile this much, and I liked it. He was usually so stone faced, scaring the hell out of everybody with his fine ass. I’d never met anyone who just looked naturally intimidating, without having to say anything.

  “Don’t play dumb, Shai. I saw her call your phone back to back while you were getting gas on the way to Fleming’s. Not to mention a plethora of texts from Mendi, Destiny—”