You Don't Know Me Like That

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  I sighed. I so wanted to get home, but then I saw Bryce hanging out in front of the school with his boys.

  “Cool. Let me put my bag in my car,” I said. I tossed my bag in the backseat. “Good thing I’m looking on point.”

  Jayla grinned. “Oh, I wasn’t worried about that. I knew you were always on point.”

  My hands went to my hips, and I tossed my hair over my shoulder diva-style. “See, I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

  She snapped a picture by my car, then we headed across campus—in the direction of where Bryce was standing. I wanted him to have a front-row seat to my photo shoot.

  Sheridan followed, keeping her arms folded across her chest. We walked around, taking candid shots with Jayla’s professional camera. I called Chasity and Ava over to get in some shots. Then a couple other of my friends. Of course, Bryce’s boys came over, teasing me and flirting on the low-low. I put on a show, and, although Bryce was trying to act like he wasn’t looking, I knew it was eating him up, especially when I asked several of his teammates to get in a picture. They all crowded around me, and the two teammates he couldn’t stand got on both sides of me and hugged me while everyone else struck poses. That’s when I saw Bryce storm off, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  After about twenty minutes, Jayla said, “Well, I’d better get going now. I want to get these uploaded tonight.”

  “Okay, see you later.” I waved as she walked away.

  “That girl creeps me out,” Sheridan said once Jayla was gone.

  “Everybody creeps you out,” I replied.

  “And she’s so lame. Seriously, who gets all excited about picture taking and posting stuff about other people?” She shook her head like Jayla thoroughly disgusted her.

  “She’s a tech geek. Plus, I told you, we hired her at the station, so she’s just doing her job. I’m not knocking her.”

  Sheridan stood watching Jayla as she pulled out of the school parking lot. “Unh-unh. It’s just something about her. And I’m not feeling you giving her your passwords. Let her be your spokesperson or something and update your stuff for you, but don’t just give her an all-access pass to your stuff.”

  “I don’t have time to do all that stuff,” I said, heading back to my car. “She is just going in and updating everything. It’s no big deal.”

  “If you say so,” Sheridan said.

  I smiled. “I say so. I’m out. Don’t call me, because my phone won’t be back on. Today is all about me.”

  “When is it not all about you, Maya?” She laughed. “When is it not?”

  Chapter 8

  I have a boyfriend. Even if he’s trippin’, I have a boyfriend.

  I had to keep telling myself that over and over. But the jacked-up part was I found myself wondering if I really did have a boyfriend. Bryce hadn’t talked to me in over two weeks now. I was trying to be patient, but he ought to know, Maya Morgan didn’t hold out for anyone.

  And, judging from the way J. Love was all up in my face, I didn’t have to.

  “So, tell me again why a girl as fine as you doesn’t have a man,” he said, leaning in closer to me. J. Love was an R & B singer who had to be the hottest thing going right now. He was so fine, it was ridiculous. He had smooth chocolate skin, curly hair, and a body that was out of this world. He looked like a much finer version of Trey Songz.

  I shook myself out of the trance his sexy voice seemed to be luring me into. It was no wonder he had passed Chris Brown as one of the top R & B singers. Between his looks and his voice, he was all of that. “I’m interviewing you,” I said. “Not the other way around.”

  He grinned. “My mom always told me if you want to know the answer to a question, just ask. So I’m asking.” He grinned.

  I couldn’t help it; I crossed my long, Pilates-toned legs, making sure my thigh was peeking out from the slit in my pencil skirt. “Well, I don’t know where you got the idea that I don’t have a man.”

  He leaned back, disappointed. “Of course you do.”

  “I do.” I paused. “Well, kinda, sorta. We’re on the outs right now.”

  “In my book, that means no. So I need to know how I can get in.”

  I had to push down the butterflies turning backflips in my stomach. “Mr. Love . . .”

  “J. For you, it’s J,” he said, cutting me off.

  Oh, my, God! He was so fine!

  “J,” I said, pulling myself together. “I’m flattered, but—”

  “Why don’t you let me take you out?” He stared at me. Hard. Almost as if he were trying to put me into some kind of deep trance or something.

  I wasn’t about to let him intimidate me, so I stared right back. “Mr. Love, I don’t mix business with pleasure.”

  He turned back to his publicist, who was standing off to the side. “Yo, Cheryl, is this interview over?”

  She nodded. “It is. They only had fifteen minutes.”

  J. Love looked at his watch, which I had spotted right away was a Rolex Submariner. That watch was no joke. It cost $250,000. I knew because my mom had bought it for my dad for their anniversary, and he had made her take it back because it was “ridiculously expensive.”

  “It’s been twenty minutes,” J. Love said, looking up at me. “So it looks like you owe me five minutes.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. J. Love was so smooth. I had to give him his props. The cameraman who was taping the interview winked at me as he cut off his camera and walked off. J. Love stood and walked right in front of me.

  “Seriously, our business is done. Let me take you out.”

  I was so tempted to say yes, but I really didn’t want to do Bryce like that. Besides, there were a bunch of people standing around trying to act like they weren’t listening, but I knew they were. I didn’t want these busters all up in my business.

  I stood, coming face-to-face with him. “I’m going to have to take a rain check, Mr. Love.”

  He put his hand over his heart. “I’m hurt.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a card. “But here’s my private number. What time do you get off?”

  “Actually, I’m done now.” I took the card, although I had no plans to use it.

  We stood for a minute, just staring at each other, and I felt my mind drifting to Bryce. A week and a half. Almost two weeks since I’d talked to him. What if he’d broken up with me and I let J. Love slip through my fingers.

  “Let’s at least go get something to eat,” J. Love said. “I mean, my bodyguard will be there to protect me in case you try anything.”

  I laughed. “Oh, in case I try something? I don’t think so.”

  “So, are you going to go or what? It’s just dinner.”

  I knew a man like J. Love didn’t have to beg anyone to go out with him, so I seriously was flattered. I checked my phone to see if Bryce had tried to call me while I was taping. He hadn’t, and that made my decision for me.

  “I guess I am a little hungry,” I said.

  J. Love chose a nice, quaint Italian restaurant on South Beach. The food was delicious, and the conversation was awesome. J. Love was so funny. He had me cracking up all evening, and by the time he dropped me back off at the station, I was so glad I’d decided to go with him. He tried to kiss me at the end of the night, but I stopped him. I liked him, but didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. I had a reputation to protect, so I definitely couldn’t get down like that.

  Still, he called me the next day and asked me to come to the mall with him to help him pick out a gift for his mother. Since I didn’t have anything to do for a change and couldn’t pass up a trip to the mall, I told him to come pick me up.

  We hadn’t been at the mall ten minutes when I heard someone shout, “Oh my God, is that J. Love?”

  “And Maya Morgan!” the girl who was with her shouted.

  J. Love smiled and pulled me closer to him as people started snapping pictures. He was hugging all over me, and I immediately tensed up. That’s all I needed was for my picture to show up
on some blog for Bryce to see. Luckily, J. Love’s bodyguard jumped in before too many more people could take pictures.

  “If you don’t mind, my man just wants to shop today,” he said.

  “Awww, I just want a quick picture,” one girl whined. “Please. He’s my favorite singer in the whole world.”

  J. Love nodded, and the girl jumped in between us.

  “You two make such a cute couple,” the girl said as she wiggled in the middle of us so her friend could snap the photo.

  “We do make a cute couple,” J. Love said after the girl had left and we’d resumed shopping. “Too bad you kinda sorta have a man.” He smiled and took my hand and led me into the Gucci store.

  “Where is everyone?” I asked once we were inside the store.

  “I just wanted to shop in peace, so I had them close down for an hour.”

  “What?”

  He shrugged like it was no big deal. Even I was impressed with that, and it took a lot to impress me.

  The sales clerks stood off to the back, ready to serve if J. Love even acted like he was interested in something. I helped him find the most beautiful purse for his mother, then I picked up the flyest pair of Gucci shades I’d ever seen.

  At the counter, I waited while the clerk rang J. Love up.

  “Yo, throw those shades on there,” he told the clerk, pushing the glasses toward her.

  “Ummm, that’s okay,” I said, reaching to take them back. “I got it.”

  “Yo, ma, let me get the shades,” he said, pushing my hand out of the way.

  “I can buy my own shades.”

  He laughed. “I’m sure you can, but it’s the least I can to thank you for helping me out. You sure you don’t want anything else?” he asked. He motioned around the store. “Anything in here you want is yours, and I mean anything.”

  Now that was a dream come true. A super-rich dude giving me free rein to shop in the Gucci store! But I wasn’t going out like that.

  “No, I’m good. Just the glasses, and seriously, I can pay for them myself.”

  “Would you be quiet,” he said, handing the clerk his black American Express card.

  He handed me the glasses. “Thank you,” I said with a wide grin.

  “My pleasure. I just wish you’d let me buy you something else.”

  “I’m good.”

  He stared at me for a minute.

  “What?” I said.

  He shook his head and took my hand. “You’re a girl after my own heart. Not one of the chicks I deal with would turn down a shopping spree in the Gucci store.”

  “Well, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not like all the other chicks you’re used to dealing with.”

  “Oh, I’ve noticed, Maya Morgan. I’ve definitely noticed.”

  We laughed and joked the rest of the day. Thankfully, Darrell, his bodyguard, kept everyone at bay, so we shopped and enjoyed each other’s company in peace. I could definitely see myself kicking it with him. But since I had a boyfriend, I had to settle for us being friends.

  I actually was grateful to finally be heading home, since I was exhausted. I leaned back in the plush seat of his tricked-out Cadillac Escalade. J. Love was on the phone, wrapping up a call that had obviously stressed him out.

  “Just get it handled, man,” he said into the phone. “I can’t afford this. Not right now.” He ran his hand over his head. “So you got it taken care of? Cool.... I’ll holla at you later.”

  “Everything okay?” I asked once he hung up. He seemed really intense.

  “Yeah, my attorney just saved my behind,” he replied, sounding relieved.

  “What happened?” I shifted in the seat to get comfortable.

  He hesitated like it had just dawned on him who he was talking to. “Let me be quiet since you’re on that Rumor Central kick,” he said.

  “For your information, I’m off duty,” I said. “And I don’t mix pleasure with business either.”

  He smiled. “I like you, Maya Morgan.”

  “I like you, too, J. Love. So what’s up? You seem really stressed.”

  He exhaled and leaned back in his seat. “Drama with my boys. Some of my crew invited these chicks out up in Seattle, and next thing you know, they were facing some sexual assault charges.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, they didn’t do it. But I can’t have that kind of publicity. I just signed a major endorsement deal with Coca-Cola. Something like that could mess with my paper.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, they even arrested me,” he continued. “One of the girls tried to claim I was there. I wasn’t even in the hotel.” He shook his head like the memory made him mad. “That’s why I always have to watch my back.” He paused, looked at me like he was studying me. “I don’t have to watch my back with you, Maya Morgan, do I?”

  “Of course not,” I said. And I meant that. I was really feeling J. Love, and I definitely wouldn’t have sold him out. “So, how’d you keep it out of the press?” I asked.

  “I have a good lawyer. I had to come up off a couple of grand, but it was worth it to shut this whole thing down.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” I said.

  He turned to face me. “Really, Maya Morgan?”

  “Yes, J. Love.” I smiled.

  “You know, you are a one-of-a-kind girl.”

  “I know.” I snuggled up closer to him.

  He hugged me. “And I’m going to do whatever it takes to make you mine. I got a feeling you’d be worth it.”

  I looked up at him. “I am.”

  He stared at me for a few minutes, then leaned in to kiss me. This time, I didn’t stop him.

  Chapter 9

  “Bryce who?” That’s all I could think as I sang along to J. Love’s new track. He’d emailed me an MP3 file of the new song. It hadn’t even been released yet, but he wanted my take on it. I knew within the first thirty seconds that this was about to be a hit.

  After J. Love dropped me off last night, he called me, and we talked for his whole ride home. He invited me to his album-listening party next week. I gladly told him yes.

  I knew it was early, but I was about to call Kennedi on ooVoo for a video chat and tell her that she was going to have to fly down so she could go with me. Sheridan and she would have to put aside any beefs, so all three of us could kick it.

  I logged on and dialed my bestie’s number. It took a minute, but finally the video of Kennedi filled the screen. She was still in bed.

  “Hey Kennedi, it’s Maya.”

  She poked her head from under the covers. “Whooaaa,” I grimaced. “You look a hot mess.”

  She didn’t find anything funny. “Are you doing drugs?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “You gotta be on something calling me at seven o’clock on a Sunday morning.”

  “You should be up going to church.”

  She yawned. “I am about to get my praise on at Church of my pillow and blanket.”

  “Well, wake up. I have something I needed to tell you.”

  She threw the covers back and stretched. “And you couldn’t tell me at ten?”

  “Nope. Guess who I spent the day with yesterday?”

  “You and Bryce made up.” She stretched and let out another long yawn. “Big deal. Like I didn’t see that coming.”

  “Nope. It wasn’t Bryce. It was J. Love.”

  She was quiet for a minute, then sat straight up in her bed. “J. Love, like Grammy-winning J. Love? Like make you wanna throw your thong on the stage, J. Love?”

  “Yes, ma’am. That J. Love. I interviewed him earlier this week, then he took me out afterward.”

  Kennedi was wide-awake now. “And I’m just now hearing about this because . . . ?”

  “Because you are always getting in trouble and got your phone taken,” I replied. She’d sent out a group text to her friends to not send her any texts or call for three days because her parents had her phone.

  “Well, I told you I was getting it b
ack Friday. You could’ve called me then!”

  “I’m calling now.” Leave it to Kennedi to want the scoop as it happens. “Can you focus, please?”

  “Okay, okay.” She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and leaned into the camera. “Tell me about this secret date.”

  “It wasn’t secret,” I said, getting comfortable myself. I stretched out on the chaise lounge in my oversized bedroom, adjusted my laptop, and continued telling her about my date. “We went to the mall. Girl, he shut down the Gucci store so we could shop.”

  “Are you freakin’ kidding me?” she yelled. Oh, she was wide-awake now. “So what did you get?”

  “He bought some stuff for his mom. I got a pair of glasses.” I held up the Gucci shades so she could see them.

  “Too cute. What else did you get?”

  “That’s it.”

  “What? J. Love is a multimillionaire, and all you got was a pair of glasses?”

  I laughed because Kennedi was my girl, but she’s that chick who would’ve cleaned the Gucci store out if J. Love had told her to get whatever she wanted. The funny part is she could’ve bought whatever she wanted out of there with her own money, but there was something about spending some guy’s money that she loved.

  “I only got the shades, because I’m not trying to use the boy like that. And I didn’t want him to pay for those. I was going to get them myself, but he insisted. Then, he wanted to buy me some more stuff.”

  “And you didn’t let him? Lord, where did I go wrong with my bestie,” she wailed.

  “Shut up, Kennedi. You know I’m not a gold digger.”

  “That’s not gold digging. You’re rich just like him. Well, maybe not just like him because, really, it’s your dad who’s rich, not you. But J. Love’s money is his own.”

  “Kennedi—”

  “My point is, a gold digger goes looking for rich dudes. I keep trying to tell you, that’s not us. Rich dudes find us, and it’s our responsibility to relieve them of their money and save our own.” She was serious as a heart attack, too.

  “Girl, you are so stupid. Anyway, after we left the mall, he dropped me off, and we talked all night. He said he felt an instant connection to me. Girl, he even opened up and told me about some legal drama he was going through.”