The Real Deal

by Warren, Alexandra

“My lifestyle. It’s not for you. I already got that figured out. But what I haven’t figured out is how we can make it work with you here and me… everywhere else. I mean, we tried that shit already and I’m obviously no good at it.” It only took me a couple of seconds to digest his words before I was flying from his chest onto my feet.

  “Wait a minute. Are you breaking up with me?”

  You would’ve thought I told a corny joke with how amused he looked when he finally answered, “What? I mean… no, Reagan. I’m not breakin’ up with you. I’m just… stating the obvious.”

  “The obvious that we can’t work with me here and you… everywhere else. Got it.”

  Before I could begin to pace this shit out, Gavin was already on his feet stopping me. “Chill out, sweetheart. I’m just sayin’ we gotta come up with a new plan. I mean, of course I wish I could pack you up and take you with me everywhere I go. But I also know how miserable you were, so I get it. We’ll figure it out one way or another; alright?”

  I refused to give him my eyes, so he used his hand to tilt my chin and do it for me, asking again, “Alright, Reagan?”

  And as I got lost in his eyes the way I always seemed to do, I knew I couldn’t have said no if I wanted to.

  &

  I never thought I’d be happy about going to work, but I was literally buzzing with excitement as I unlocked the front doors of the center. And that’s how I really knew I was excited; the fact that I was actually the first one to show up, that I was early to work for the first time in… forever.

  I was sure a shitload of work had piled up while I was gone even though the assistant director had thankfully handled some of it. But even that wasn’t enough to deter my enthusiasm. In fact, I was thrilled to dive into paperwork, and see all the kids, and solve problems that had nothing to do with the music industry.

  I unlocked the door to my office, and flipped on the light switch to a pleasant surprise. There was a bouquet of flowers on my desk with a note neatly tucked in the middle. My heart swooned before I could even figure out who they were from, though I had a pretty good feeling about the sender.

  They better be from him.

  I sat my purse down, taking a full whiff of the arrangement before I yanked the note from the holder.

  Though I wish you were with me, I still hope you have a good first day back.

  Missin’ you already,

  <3 Gavin

  I read it over a few times, smiling harder and harder each time as if the message had changed.

  But it hadn’t.

  He hadn’t.

  Besides the one little hiccup, he had still managed to stick to his morals, stick to his word, stick to… me.

  And while I had never imagined myself dating a rapper - falling in love with a rapper -, I was proudly eating my words now.

  Gavin

  I hate this shit.

  There was nothing like being in a room full of people, all there on your behalf, and still talking around you like you don’t exist. I mean, sure there were parts of the conversation I didn’t care about, shit they could’ve discussed without my presence. But there were other parts, like the latest topic of conversation, that grinded my gears.

  “A spoken-for sex symbol is not marketable.”

  “What about Beyoncé? She’s sexy and married.”

  “She’s a woman! Men don’t care about there being another man in the picture. Women do. Women get legitimately jealous. Women will stop listening to your music if they know they don’t have a chance with you.”

  “That’s bullshit. Women still love Usher and he’s been married, divorced, and married again.”

  “Who? Because if we’re talking about the same person, I’d say he’s been forgotten about...”

  “Hello? I am right here, ya know. And while I understand the concerns, this discussion isn’t gonna change my relationship status.”

  The exec, Wendy I think her name was, sighed as she said, “We understand that, G. And we don’t need it to. We just have to… keep it under wraps. You know, no public sightings, no more Instagram posts…”

  I cut her off before she could get ahead of herself. “Ya’ll act like I’m in high school or somethin’. I’m grown as fuck and so is my girl. If anything, ya’ll should be spinning this shit in our favor. You know… healthy black love? Normal black people in a non-dysfunctional relationship?” Everyone in the room looked confused as if the idea had never hit ‘em before.

  Probably hasn’t.

  Another exec - maybe Tom… or Tim? Yeah, Tim - spoke for the group. “Look, G. While that’s all fine and dandy, it doesn’t sell records, especially rap records. Women wanna hear you rap songs about how you’re gonna fuck them, not about how you already make love to your… girlfriend.”

  I tried my best to stay calm as I replied, “Well whose fault is that? I mean, ya’ll knew what kind of artist ya’ll were signing, right?”

  Wendy held her hands up as she assured, “Of course! And we will do everything we need to to accommodate you. But we’re also realists, Gavin. So while your love is… sweet, we aren’t trying to book cooking shows or spots on Steve Harvey’s couch. We’re trying to sell records. And you want to sell records, right?”

  “I highly doubt my relationship status will affect that as much as ya’ll say. But to answer your question, yes I wanna sell records.”

  “Well we need you to do this one thing for us. Just… keep it low-key, alright? It’ll be better for the both of you anyway.”

  Though I knew for a fact Reagan had never been too fond of the spotlight, I also knew she probably wouldn’t be too fond of things being… low-key. Even if she didn’t wanna be known as, “G. Griffey’s girlfriend”, she also didn’t want there to be any confusion that I was in fact off the market; proudly off the market.

  But I also couldn’t let our relationship control every aspect of my career. And while I knew Reagan understood that to some extent, I was already preparing myself for the backlash.

  &

  “You know… I was starting to wonder if you forgot you even had a mother. I mean, it’s been so long since you’ve come to see me.”

  I laughed my mama off though I knew she was right. It had been far too long since I saw her in person, even if we had always kept in touch over the phone. I guess between keeping up with my damn self and trying to keep up with Reagan, Mama had unintentionally gotten put on the backburner. But since I wasn’t as worried about her health anymore and she was settled back into the routine of things at home, I felt more at ease about the delayed visit.

  “I’m sorry, Mama. You know stuff has been moving unexpectedly fast.” It had taken multiple schedule changes for me to even sneak off and see her this go-round. Thankfully she understood, even if it came with her calling me out on it.

  “Well don’t you let it pass you by without taking some time to enjoy it all, son. Speaking of which, where’s my Reagan? I haven’t seen her high-yella behind either. She used to come by here before you took her hostage.”

  “She did?” Reagan had hardly even mentioned my mom since the time we went to go visit her in the hospital before we were even a thing. So the news of her not only visiting, but visiting her at home, was surprising.

  “Mmhm. Use to bring me an apple pie on every visit too. And how do you think I got all settled in? I mean, since my son was all over the country doing who knows what...”

  I caught her usual dose of shade, but instead decided to address the first part of her answer. “Mama, you know you’re not supposed to be eating even one slice of apple pie, let alone a whole one.”

  She waved me off. “Oh hush up, Gavin. What’s the point of being here if I can’t enjoy myself? If that’s the case, you might as well start pickin’ out my headstone now.”

  “Mama, don’t start. The doctors say you’re doing better than ever, almost at a full recovery.”

  “And I can guarantee you that apple pie had something to do with it. But enough about me, what’s going on with y
ou? Reagan showed me that little video of you performing at someone’s birthday party.”

  I couldn’t believe Reagan had actually showed my mama footage of me rappin’. Not that she hadn’t heard my songs before, but I was sure her seeing me spit less than holy lyrics live came with a bunch of grunts of disapproval.

  But still I answered, “You know, same ‘ol same ‘ol. Had a meeting with the label the other day and they suggested I keep my relationship with Reagan under wraps.”

  Mama looked almost as confused about the whole thing as I initially was when she asked, “What? Why?”

  “Something about a taken sex symbol not being marketable; that if I wanna sell records, we need to lay low.”

  “I don’t understand. Reagan’s gorgeous. They should be wanting to show her off as much as they show your raggedy behind.”

  I was glad someone saw things my way, even if it came with a new dose of shade. But considering the way the execs had reacted to it, you would’ve thought I said somethin’ completely off the wall.

  “That’s what I said, Mama. But I guess that’s not how it works. I don’t know how I’m gonna tell her though.”

  “Reagan’s a sensible girl. She’ll understand. But just because ya’ll are gonna be “laying low” doesn’t mean she should feel like ya’ll are doing it. You keep doing everything you’ve been doing, everything you did to get her in the first place. Don’t let that damn record deal get to your head and to your heart because I can guarantee you those people don’t give a shit about your best interests. All they care about is the money.”

  I nodded my head to agree with her and she continued on, “And Reagan’s a gem. Just the type of girl you need to keep your ass in line. Don’t lose her over a career that may not last forever. Platinum records won’t keep you warm at night, baby.”

  I swear Mama knew exactly what to say, exactly what I needed to hear before I actually talked to Reagan about it. So I took her hand, giving it a squeeze as I assured her, “I got you, Mama. Now where’s the rest of that apple pie hiding?”

  Reagan

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Damn, I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

  I laughed, more embarrassed than anything as I pulled Gavin into my office, shutting and locking the door behind us. I wasn’t sure how many days it had been since I last saw him in person, but anytime away was honestly long enough. My arms were locked around his neck as I gave a little jump so that I could wrap my legs around his waist, hardly caring that I had on a dress.

  His smile was crooked as he locked his hands under my thighs and said, “That’s more like it.”

  I gave him as many kisses as I could before I finally took the time to ask, “Now really. What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see you, sweetheart. Worked in a little down time, so I figured I’d use it the best way possible.”

  “Who’s to say I have that kind of time?”

  “Who’s to say I was talkin’ about that? Nasty ass…”

  I couldn’t help but laugh considering I was caught red handed. In fact, I had already been thinking about optimal positions to at least get my own satisfaction.

  “Well if you aren’t talking about that, then what are you talking about?”

  His laugh rumbled against my skin from top to bottom as he replied, “Damn, I can’t come see you without an agenda, huh?”

  “I mean you can. But I am at work so…”

  He let me down to my feet and I immediately began adjusting my dress as he said, “I went by Mama’s today. She said you’ve been visiting her. Why didn’t I know about this?”

  I shrugged as I answered, “I wasn’t exactly doing it for a gold star. I just figured she could use the company since you’ve been away a lot. I mean, the least we could do is sulk in our sorrows together.”

  He immediately looked concerned, so I quickly flashed him a smile to let him know I was just teasing. I wasn’t exactly sure why I had reached out to Gavin’s mom. I guess it just… seemed like the right thing to do, especially since she was dealing with the recovery alone. Sure she was a tough lady, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t use the company.

  “Well I appreciate it, Reagan. Real shit. Anybody that’s good with Moms is forever good with me.”

  “I like the sound of that,” I replied, as I stood on my tippy toes to give him another kiss.

  “Now tell me how you managed to catch a break for a change.” It hardly seemed possible for Gavin to be here without at least a steadily-ringing phone.

  He sighed, falling into my chair before allowing me to settle in on his lap. “Had to work it in, move some shit around, piss a bunch of people off.”

  “All that work to come see little ol’ me, huh?” I teased.

  He pulled me closer to his chest, growling in my ear, “All that work for you, sweetheart.”

  “You sure you didn’t come here with an agenda?”

  His tone changed as he answered, “Well I did. But not that kind.”

  Something about the way he spoke had me concerned. But I tried not to overreact, instead tossing out a simple, “What’s up?”

  He sighed again, so naturally I braced myself. “Reagan, this is gonna sound dumb as shit. And for the record, I think its dumb as shit but… the label told me that I have to keep us on the low.”

  I sat up so that I could see his face as I asked, “Keep us on the low? What does that even mean?”

  His expression was unmistakably serious as he answered, “Like… no public shit whatsoever. Said it’s bad for sales. A spoken-for sex symbol isn’t marketable. Their words.”

  I didn’t want to sound like a crazed idiot by asking more questions though I had a ton.

  Who came up with this shit?

  You’re actually going along with this shit?

  Are you breaking up with me?

  “O… kay,” I pushed out before the other side of me could line jump the sensible one.

  He seemed surprised, his eyes wide as he asked, “Okay?... Like okay, you’re cool?”

  “No, not exactly. But if that’s the angle they’re taking with you then I understand.” The last thing I wanted to do was get in the way of his career, even if that meant keeping our relationship under wraps. I mean, other than the occasional Instagram stuff and public outings, we were already pretty quiet. So a few small adjustments certainly weren’t game-changers. I mean, it wasn’t like he was saying he could never see me again or something crazy like that.

  He sighed again, this time one of relief as he said, “And here I was, sweating my ass off on the drive over here wondering how you were gonna take this shit. Mama was right about you.”

  “Mama? What’d she say about me?” I knew Ms. Griffin was a natural shit talker, so I was prepared for something completely off the wall.

  But Gavin’s smile was a little too giddy for me to take seriously when he answered, “Something along the lines of how I gotta lock yo’ ass down sooner than later.”

  I couldn’t help but give a competitively giddy smile in return as I tossed back, “Have I ever told you how smart your mother is?”

  &

  “Girl, your man is all over the internet today!”

  I peeked over to Amber, the owner of the nail salon, who was hanging out in a free chair on her phone while waiting for her client to show up as the technicians worked on giving Leilani and I pedicures.

  I knew today was a big day for Gavin as his video with Zalayah was set to drop over the lunch hour. He had already told me over and over again just how “edited” the video would look and honestly, I wasn’t concerned in the first place. Zalayah was still a little ass girl no matter how her camp was trying to twist her image. I mean, anything under 21 classified as “little ass girl” to me. But in my opinion, there was simply nothing grown and sexy about her.

  “What? They’re talking about the video?” I asked, adjusting the settings on the vibrating massage chair as I enjoyed the feel of the technician kneadi
ng lotion into my calves with her knuckles.

  Amber’s answer was so delayed that I almost forgot I had even asked her a question. “Uh… not exactly. They’re talking about how cozy those two looked on set. Somebody leaked pictures of him coming out of her dressing room and…”

  “Wait what? Let me see.”

  I heard the technician let out an annoyed huff causing me to snap my eyes at her. Not that the situation was her fault, but she acted as if she wasn’t getting paid regardless of this little delay. Leilani struggled to lean over the edge of her massage chair to look at Amber’s phone with me. And I didn’t even bother with the words of the article, instead choosing to focus on the pictures.

  There were only two, one of them in a hug and another of her looking adoringly into his eyes while he smiled down on her. And while I tried to find the good, I struggled because…, “They do look cozy.”

  I was so prepared for the on-camera stuff that I hadn’t even thought about what could’ve been going on behind the scenes. And now that I knew - along with the rest of the world - how “friendly” they were off-camera, maybe the on-camera stuff wasn’t an act.

  Maybe it was real.

  No wonder his ass paid for us to have a spa day today...

  He must’ve known I’d need some professionally-induced chill to deal with this shit without killing his ass.

  I mean, all this time I thought the struggle was from balancing our relationship and his career; the requests from his label. Not our relationship, his career, and his budding romance with this… nine-teenager.

  And to think I was worried about Shy’s ass…

  Clearly my suspicion was targeted at the wrong person.

  “Reagan?... Reagan, breathe… Reagan!”

  “Huh? What? I’m good, Lei. I am… just fine.”

  And I was.

  Being upset right now would’ve been useless. I wanted to save all that energy for the one that deserved it. The one that had me convinced we would work through whatever adversity came with our unique circumstances. The one I had agreed to keep things quiet for. The one that supposedly loved me.