“Man, they shut down my studio, and if it wasn’t for you they’d have put a freeze on my bank accounts. I’d have no way to get any money after they took away shit.”
Eric Ascot downed another glass of red wine and raised his hand. The waiter arrived and he ordered another bottle.
“You stick with me and we’ll have everything cleared up. But you’ve gotta take it easy, Eric.”
“Max, you try taking it easy when the government is making it impossible for you to get anything done. Man, I want all this bullshit to end!”
“It’ll end soon enough. In a couple of weeks, the case will be in front of the judge. We’ll see what they got then. You can bank on that.”
“I’m sure it’ll cost me a pretty price,” Eric said and continued to nibble at his food.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Have been in touch with your ex-fiancée?”
“Yes, why?”
“Please be cautious about the fact that she’s one of their main witnesses against you.”
“I don’t have too much to say to her,” Eric seethed beneath his breath.
“You shouldn’t hold too much against her. Sophia’s hands are tied, and she’s been forced to play their game. How much she actually knows, and what exactly can be ruled as hearsay is all that’s important to us.”
“How do we find out exactly what she knows or is willing to talk about?”
“We simply must talk to Sophia.”
“You mean I have to talk to her?”
“Well since you’ve been lovers, yes. I think that’s the right call,” the lawyer said with a wink.
“I can tell you that that’s not happening,” Eric said, wagging his index finger.
“Why not?”
“It simply isn’t,” Eric said, sitting back.
He may have been drinking wine but that wasn’t enough to blind him to the reality of his situation with Sophia. She had betrayed his trust by cooperating with DA’s investigation of him. Eric glanced around the eatery and saw all the couples seemingly having a good time eating. They appeared to be enjoying themselves and he remembered when he too did the same with Sophia. She was with him from the beginning and knew everything, Eric thought reminiscing.
Sophia rejoined Eric downstairs. He had downed two more beers and was working fast on the third.
“Hey, big guy, don’t drink yourself silly—save me some,” Sophia said.
“That silliness is not a bad idea. As for the beer, there’s plenty in the fridge,” Eric answered flatly.
“Thanks. Please don’t kill me with kindness,” Sophia said.
“Listen, my niece was…” his voice trailed.
“I know honey. What happened to her is a terrible thing. We’ve got to be supportive of each other and try to get something positive—”
“Something positive out of a young girl being raped?” Eric demanded.
“Out of this evil try to find the good. Maybe you can overwhelm her with good—and goods.”
“Like?”
“Like a shopping spree, getting clothes. Like sending her flowers. And more shopping. Try to help her to forget. I have friends who can provide counseling and other kinds of support too. In time, this horrible experience can move to the back of her mind.”
“Is that possible?” Eric asked, his eyes searching.
“Yes. You won’t be able to take it all away. But, you have to try,” Sophia said between sips of the newly opened brew.
“Sophia, that shit really hurts me. I don’t know…”
“Yeah, I understand. What did the police—”
“Later for them assholes. They’ve never helped me. Never.”
Sophia saw anger in Eric. The furrow in his brow became pronounced as he stared at a picture of him and, Dennis, his older brother. She knew where it all stemmed from. Eric’s brother had been murdered not long before Sophia met Eric, so she was with him when he learned the truth about his brother’s death. Something in Eric changed after that, and Sophia knew not to press the issue with him.
Men wearing hoods had tried to mug his older brother, he was told. Dennis fired at them with his .38 Smith and Wesson, but one attacker got behind him and shot him dead. Eric knew Dennis had gone to an address given to him by Xtrigaphan, the hot rap group Dennis wanted to sign. Dennis had taken $10,000 in cash with him to lure the group to sign. Eric knew his brother dabbled in cocaine, but also knew Dennis wasn’t dealing. He knew that the cash was a signing bonus. The police weren’t interested in Eric’s version of his brother’s murder, since then his hatred for the police bordered on obsession. Sophia decided to try another approach.
“Well, have you spoken to Deedee, to find out what happened?”
“No.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“Not entirely, except that she was raped and the car was stolen.”
“By whom? Where?” Sophia queried.
“Look, the cops told me what happened. They called me and told me they found her badly beaten. Told me that she had been sexually assaulted.”
“So you haven’t spoken to Deedee about any of this?”
“I told you. No,” Eric said.
He was annoyed now. Sophia Lawrence, with her lawyer’s mind, he thought. She suspended the questioning when she saw Eric’s resentment. Tilting the beer upwards, she looked at his reflection through the beer bottle. His face appeared contorted, and he looked fat with anger. Eric Ascot turned his back. He was rehashing his brother’s death.
“I didn’t want to include the cops,” he said, turning to face her. “Not after the way they treated my brother. Like he was some unknown, drug-dealing nigga. Now I’m gonna handle this shit the way it should be handled.”
Eric turned away. Then he stopped. The pain showed on his face when he said, “Soph, whatever it takes to make her better. Please don’t spare the cost. Get her the best. That’s my niece laid up there.”
Sophia stared at his pain-stricken face and nodded. He sighed in relief, knowing his fiancée would do all she could to help him.
Sitting inside the eatery with his attorney, Eric Ascot pondered what Sophia shared with the district attorney’s office. Sophia had told him that she would have to cooperate, but he worried how much she had revealed. She was with him from the beginning of it all. Eric’s mind kept going and he downed another glass of wine in a vain attempt to slow the thought process.
“Hey Eric, cheer up some for heaven’s sake. You still have a small studio inside that apartment of yours,” Max Roose said, requesting the check. “I tell you, stick with me and it’ll all work out. You can trust Max.”
Eric Ascot said nothing. After paying the tab and walking outside with Max Roose at his side, Eric was still drudging through a funk. There was a dark cloud over his head. He knew he had to clear it up before going to trial. He had to see Sophia one more time.
“Hey Eric, remember to get that contact info on Rightchus and please try to talk to Sophia. It’s business, Eric—your freedom. Good night,” Max said and slipped into his waiting car.
“Yes, good night,” Eric replied, getting into his chauffeur-driven ride.
“Where to sir?” The armed chauffeur requested.
“Just drive around for a minute I’ve gotta make this call first,” Eric said, pulling out his cell phone.
He scanned the directory of his contacts. Finally Eric came to a name, and his fingers stopped scrolling. As he stared at the information, his face slowly twisted in anger and he clenched his teeth.
“Take me to my place,” Eric said.
“Which one?”
“My apartment,” Eric said. “It’s the only one I got right now.”
“Gotcha,” the chauffeur said.
The limousine raced across town with Eric Ascot still glancing at the information on his cellphone screen. Sophia Lawrence was her given name, but sometimes she went by Sophia Sullivan, the person Eric remembered putting through law school. A beautiful young woman, he had been
dating her since his brother’s best friend, Busta, had introduced them.
Sophia and Eric were engaged not long after Deedee came to live with him. He thought getting hitched was a good idea when he found out that he would be the legal guardian to his niece. Sophia and Deedee hit it off like they were meant to be. Smart, worldly and working toward a degree in corporate law, Sophia had been the type of woman Eric wanted in his niece’s life. He paid the way to help her through law school.
They were almost like a real family and Eric was planning to marry Sophia. But after Deedee was raped and the legal fiasco erupted, his world had changed. He needed security for his niece and himself. The engagement was off and Sophia was cooperating with the people who were trying to take him down. Eric sighed when the car pulled to a stop.
“Good night,” he said, jumping out and walking to the building.
He took the elevator up, and it opened to his foyer. Eric heard his niece’s voice as soon as he opened the apartment door.
“I can’t do that. Are you kidding me?” Deedee said loudly.
“I think you should, yo.”
“My uncle would go ape-shit over that,” Deedee said.
Coco and Deedee voices’ dropped when Eric walked in on them in the kitchen. The girls were at the table finishing off a bottle of wine.
“Ape-shit over what?” Eric asked, walking to refrigerator and getting a bottle of beer.
The girls looked at each other in surprise then back at Eric without saying anything. He opened the beer, threw it to his head, and swallowed.
“If you’re talking about all the illegal contact you’ve had with Sophia, then don’t respond to anymore of her requests. Okay? Also do you still have Rightchus’ contact info? I’m gonna need that for the attorney.”
Deedee paused taking in his words. “Okay, Uncle. I’ll write down Rightchus’ number. It’s somewhere in my cellphone.”
Eric downed his beer in a couple of gulps and was about to walk away. He turned back and stared at Coco.
“And by the way Coco, you’ll be in the studio first thing tomorrow morning,” he said.
“You mean the studio has been reopened, Uncle E?” Deedee excitedly asked.
“Not exactly, but I’ve got some of the best recording equipment here. So why not operate from home base for now?”
“Sounds, like a plan to me, yo. I’ll be here in the morning.”
“Okay, I’ll see you then about ten… Good night ladies,” Eric said.
Deedee gave him a hug and so did Coco. Eric walked away and went straight to his room. Coco waited until the door shut before continuing.
“Now was a good time to tell him, yo.”
“He started talking about Sophia. I mean he must’ve had her on his mind. Obviously he must’ve wanted to mention that. I still think Uncle E loves her.”
“He just told you to stay away from her so I don’t know how much he’s feeling her, yo.”
“Yeah, I wonder why? I mean, my uncle and I already had that discussion,” Deedee mused.
“Maybe he hollered at her and she told him something about that, yo.”
“Or maybe his attorney told him something. Because now he wants Rightchus’ number. He never asked for that before. He knew I had spoken to Rightchus and all he told me was—”
“Stay out of grown folks’ biz,” Coco joined in.
“Exactly,” Deedee chuckled.
Coco and Deedee laughed together loudly. Raising her eyebrows, Coco pointed in the direction of Eric’s room.
“Oh please girl, a bomb could go off and you wouldn’t hear shit in there. Haven’t you seen how huge this place is…?”
“I know it’s huge, but damn what if he had his ears to the door, yo?”
“Coco, my uncle doesn’t do anything like that.”
Eric Ascot eased his ear away from the door, and went to bed with a cigarette dangling from his lips. The girls kept chatting through the night and eventually parted ways. Coco bunked in the guest room and Deedee fell asleep in a good mood.
The next morning, true to his words, Eric Ascot was up in the studio loading beats and compiling songs for Coco’s music catalog. In his lab, he sampled different sounds from R&B to funk, calypso and reggae. Eric mixed down the sounds in an attempt to produce a classic sound he knew audiences would love to hear. Working diligently, he hardly noticed that Coco had walked in.
“I’m ready, Uncle E,” she said.
“Let’s go to work,” he replied without raising his head.
Eric saw Deedee walk into the small makeshift studio. She paused, waiting for him to acknowledge her.
“Close the door,” he said. “Once that door is shut this place will be airtight.”
Deedee closed the door and Eric pumped the beat up. It sounded like rock and Coco nodded her head to it. She smiled and started humming a tune.
“I got sump’n for this, yo,” she said smiling.
“Alright, let’s hear it, Coco. If you ain’t claustrophobic, get inside that booth. You can go rap away to your heart’s content.”
Coco stepped into the booth and picked up the headset. She slipped the headphones on and picked up the microphone. Then she launched into a verbal flow that pasted a smile on her listeners’ faces. Eric and Deedee nodded their heads while Coco laced the track with her vocals.
I’m alone cornered in a room
It ain’t paranoia just thoughts
Start poppin’ off like hammers
I’m ready to go bananas
beatin’ on my chest
Feelin’ I’m ready to go off
2 techs verbal grammar
Problems hangin’ from my neck
extra clips My mind ain’t playin tricks
I ain’t goin’ skitzo Nobody slip me a mick
oh just voices from past in my head
Coco go loco they said hurt ’em ’fore they do you
Even the ones who swear they know you
Others comin’ at you just to know you
Whatever you do know who you’re puffin’ after
Just play your cards right against all odds
You’ll succeed superseding all expectations
Shoot for the moon missing will only make you a star
Her head was steady nodding in rhythm as the teen paused her incredible flow to catch her breath. Both Eric and Deedee broke out in a long applause.
“Thank you,” Coco smiled. “I gotta get some water for my throat, yo.”
“All those verses need is a nasty hook and we got ourselves something we can work with. What you think, Dee?”
“I’m still caught up how easy she makes it look,” Deedee said, smiling. “Coco is a superstar.”
“Alright take a water break. Let me mix this vocal in and I think we have it done on one take. Come back from your water break with a good hook, Coco.”
“Yes sir, I’ll be thinking about it.”
“Uncle E, here’s Rightchus’ info,” Deedee said, handing Eric a piece of paper.
She walked out of the recording studio with Coco. They entered the kitchen together.
“I feel so lucky to be working with your uncle one-on-one like this. You can’t imagine what it means to an up-and-coming artist like me, yo,” Coco gushed.
“Me personally, I feel kinda famished,” Deedee said. “I puked again this morning.”
“Morning sickness again…? Dee, when are you gonna see a doctor?”
“Oh I don’t know, Coco. That’s gonna involve my uncle, don’t you think?”
“Not necessarily, and you’re talking about me not taking care of myself, yo?”
“I’ve been soo busy taking care of you that I’ve totally forgotten about taking care of me,” Deedee said.
“Very funny, yo. You’ve gotta make a doctor’s appointment.”
“I will, once I know exactly what I want to do.”
“I thought you did… Oh, I got it—today you changed your mind, huh? Time’s running out, yo…”
&n
bsp; “I hear you, Coco.”
Eric Ascot walked in beaming. He was clearly happy with what he had heard and his anticipation rushed to the surface when he spoke.
“Oh we’re gonna kill ’em dead with that joint, Coco. It’s a winner. I mixed it down some and I hope you’re talking about the hook.”
“Yeah, I’m on it, yo.”
“Let’s try to wrap up after breakfast. You guys are gonna stay in? I’m gonna go down to that French café. You guys care to join me?”
“Yes,” Coco said.
“No,” Deedee said. “I already started making breakfast here, Uncle, thanks.”
“See you when I get back. Be ready to go, Coco,” Eric said and walked out the apartment.
“Why didn’t you wanna go, yo?”
“You remember you said you know how to deal with your mother?”
“Yes.”
“Well I know how to deal with my uncle. Let him go eat his French breakfast, flirt with the waitresses and read his newspaper. He was just being nice. And if you’d gone—oh, he would have talked our heads off about music. You don’t know my uncle like I do. He’d rather be alone.”
“You know him better, yo.”
7
Dressed in Armani slacks and shirt, Eric Ascot was escorted by his bodyguard downstairs. His cell phone went off the moment the summer air hit his unshaven face. It was Max Roose.
“Max…”
“Hey good morning, Eric.”
“Morning, Max, do you have spies on me?”
“Why?”
“Don’t worry. What’s the reason for this call, Max? How much is it gonna cost me?”
“Not much this time. Do you have that info for me?”
“Oh damn. My niece gave it to me while I was excited about this beat I was working on.”
“So you took my advice and set that studio in your apartment to good use, huh?”
“Yes… Coco has to come back and finish her first song from my home-base studio. I was feelin’ that and totally forgot the info. Let me two-way a call and get his number.”
“Okay that’s fine. I’ll hold the line,” Max Roose said.
Eric put his lawyer on hold and called his niece. Deedee read Rightchus’ phone number to her uncle who relayed it to his attorney.
Ghetto Girls 6 Page 5
