Going Broke

by Trista Russell

  “So. I can’t just send you the CD?”

  “No, that’s boring.”

  “So what do you want, Julian?”

  “It’s not what I want. It’s what Dwayne wants, and he wants that G-spot.”

  “Can I just pay you?”

  “No, baby. We’re not talking cash, we’re talking about the CD.” He paused. “You bring it to my hotel room in West Palm, I get that pussy, and I’ll promise you that it’ll end up in the right hands.”

  I was desperate. “Can’t I just pay you to take the CD?”

  “You will be paying me, but I don’t accept dollars, just sex.” He cut the conversation short. “I’m due in a marketing meeting in two minutes.”

  I took a deep breath. “Okay.”

  “I’m sure that your friend will appreciate how much you’re willing to do to help him,” Julian said. “I’ll call you on Saturday, Sarai.”

  “Money doesn’t change men, it merely unmasks

  them. If a man is naturally selfish or arrogant or

  greedy, the money brings that out, that’s all.”

  —Henry Ford

  Bank Statement # 13

  Account Balance: $8,339.30

  Julian called while Tremel and I were at the mall. I asked Tremel to excuse me then exited the Foot Locker and sat on a bench in front of the store, where I politely told Julian I couldn’t take him up on his offer, because I was no longer in the Elite for the purpose of entertainment.

  I tried to be businesslike and propose a deal with him, telling him that I’d pay any amount to get the CD heard, but Julian wasn’t having it. He reminded me of all the positive things that could be produced through our reunion, mainly Tremel’s CD.

  After ten minutes on the phone, Julian won. I’d never get a chance to help Tremel like this again. Julian said that he had a meeting with Mr. Bonnet, CEO of Jump Records, on Monday morning, and promised that he’d hype the CD and make something happen, even if it was just a phone call.

  I reluctantly agreed to see him.

  I told Tremel that it was a high school friend of mine who was in town and wanted to meet me for dinner.

  When we got home, I couldn’t keep Tremel off of me. The best thing was that he wasn’t hungry for sex; he just wanted to be close to me. We cuddled in bed for a couple of hours and watched a movie.

  Being in Tremel’s arms made getting up out of bed to be with Julian real hard, but each time I talked myself into not going, Tremel would bring up something dealing with the music industry, something that made me want to make his dreams reality.

  What he didn’t know was that I was standing between him and the door he needed to be open for him. I wanted things to happen for him, so I pulled down the covers and started to walk into the shower and into his dreams.

  “So what time will you be back?” Tremel asked from under the sheets as he watched me get dressed.

  I couldn’t even look at him. “I really don’t know.” The lie had grown bigger than I wanted it to. “I was so surprised to hear from her.” I even went as far as asking him if he wanted to join us, but before he could answer, I gave him three reasons why he’d be bored out of his mind.

  “So when did she get here?”

  I was nervous. “Yesterday, I think.”

  “What time are you supposed to be there?”

  “Around seven-thirty or eight.” The truth was, I told Julian to expect me at eight, and it was already after six, so I changed the subject. “What do you think I should wear, baby?”

  “Sarai, I don’t want to be a part of the getting dressed process.” He fell back on the bed and shook his head, smiling.

  “Help me,” I yelled jokingly. “Please . . . I need help.”

  “Wear that blue dress you wore when we went to Levels.”

  I laughed. “I think that’s a little too dressy. We’re just going to dinner.”

  “It looked good, though.” He smiled. “Put it on for me when you get home.”

  “No, I’m going to put it on you when I get home.”

  “Put it on me. Put it on me, girl,” Tremel joked.

  A little before 7:00, I was dressed and ready to go. “I’ll see you later.” I walked over to the bed and kissed him on the forehead.

  “Wait, I’ll walk you down.” He started to get out of bed.

  I pushed him back. “No.” I couldn’t let him walk me out, because I had a bag next to the couch with panties, condoms, deodorant, and other items that I couldn’t let him see me leaving with. “You don’t have to walk me down.” I kissed him. “As a matter of fact, I want you right here in this bed when I get home.” I trailed my fingers down his chest.

  “Can I get up to pee, warden?” he joked.

  “No, that way it’ll stay hard.” I laughed as I walked away. “See ya later, baby.”

  I sat in the parking lot of Julian’s hotel for twenty minutes. I was trying hard to rationalize what I was about to do. Tremel would be thankful for the opportunity; it could really open up the doors that were being slammed in his face, but I also thought about how I had to betray him to help him. I’m sure there weren’t enough words in the dictionary to make him understand why I thought this was the best thing to do.

  I slipped the CD into my car stereo, and as I listened to the power in Tremel’s voice, tears came to my eyes. I couldn’t tell if it was love that made me want to go this far for him, or if it was lack of love leading me to go this far.

  “Here I go.” I touched up my makeup and left the car.

  In Julian’s hotel room, we talked like we knew each other well. I laughed at his jokes, pretended to be interested in his life, and ignored his sexual advances.

  After all of that, I dropped the bomb on him. I told him that the singer I wanted him to check out was really my boyfriend, and that I was willing to write him a check for a thousand dollars instead of doing what I came to do.

  “You know I can’t accept your money,” he said. “I know how hard you have to work for yours.”

  “Julian, just take the money. I’m doing all right now as far as cash is concerned.”

  “Naw, I have all the money I need.” He stood up and started undressing. “Let’s do something where we’ll both walk away from this business deal happier—You’ll get the CD played, and I’ll get laid.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, but I really don’t feel right about this.”

  “What is there to feel bad about? This is what the business is about. If you don’t do it, he might have to do it with someone else.” He kept undressing. “Which one would you rather?” He was naked. “Nothing in life is free, baby, not even good talent—You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours.”

  Moments later, I was doing more than scratching his back. I was kneeling in front of him with a mouthful.

  Julian, bent on making the night a living hell, insisted that we play Tremel’s music on his laptop, claiming he really wanted to get a good feel for his talent. It was like Tremel was standing right next to me.

  I closed my eyes, and he was all I saw. I tried to pretend that I was kneeling in front of him instead of Julian, but the physical dimensions of Julian’s baton were off.

  By the time “Forgotten” started to play, I felt like I needed a straightjacket, a psychiatrist, and holy water. I was going insane. As my head bobbed up and down, tears dripped and dropped onto his pubic hair. “I can’t do this.”

  He tried to force my head back down.

  “Stop.” I pushed his hand away and wiped my mouth. “I can’t do this.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I can’t do this.” I stood to my feet and looked at him. “I’m sorry.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Home.” I grabbed my purse.

  He stood up. “So you’re just going to leave me like this?” He pointed at his private part as it pointed back at me.

  “I’m sorry.” I sobbed and made my way to the door. “You don’t have to help me. We’ll make it on our own.” I
opened and closed the door as Julian stared at me.

  I walked down the hall talking to myself. “I love him too much to do this to him.” Those were words I hadn’t spoken to Tremel yet. “I love him.”

  I got to my truck and cried like a baby. I rinsed my mouth with Listerine and spat out of the window every chance I got. I threw the bag that held my condoms onto the shoulder of the road. I was done forever with being that woman that money wanted me to be. I was an emotional wreck, and when I heard my phone ring, I wanted to throw it out the window, too, but I answered instead.

  “Sarai, what in the fuck did you do yesterday?” Conrad asked, making me wish I had gone with my initial instinct. “Are you trying to put me out of business?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know what in the hell I mean. Do you know Dwayne Cart?”

  Damn! I was caught. “Yes, I do,” I whispered.

  “What in the hell did you think you were doing?”

  “What did I do?” Playing stupid was always fun.

  “What did you do?—You gave his girlfriend a key to the damn room. You got Cherry caught up in some bullshit. The damn girl tore her weave out and all. Cherry said that the woman kept screaming your name and said that you gave her the key to the fuckin’ room.”

  “Well, if that’s what Cherry said, then that must be what I did.” I had been through enough in one week; I was going to speak my mind. “Dwayne Cart is my ex-boyfriend. I caught him fuckin’ one of my best damn friends, and this was my way to get back at him. Sorry for doing it on your time clock, sorry if you lost a few dollars, and I’m sorry if Cherry is bald right now.”

  “You’re sorry all right. Your sorry ass won’t work for me again.”

  “Fine, Conrad,” I shouted. “Not like I can claim this bullshit on my taxes any damn way.”

  “Ya broke bitch, let’s see how much business your website is gonna get now. Youplanmytrip.com—more like youplanbullshit.com. I told you not to fuck with my money. Now you got this man’s woman all up in my business because of you. Security had to take them all out, and the police were called.” He was angry. “I swear if my shit goes down I will be on your doorstep, and it won’t be to deliver no goddamn Sunday paper either.”

  He had me scared, but I turned the tables and put some fear into him. “Conrad, if you threaten me again, I swear I’ll call the Sacramento police station after we hang up. I know too much of your business for you to piss me off,” I said. “Stay the hell out of my life. I want nothing to do with anything that has to do with you or your establishment. There was a Sarai before Elite, and there’ll damn sure be one after it.”

  “You’re pretty damn cocky today,” he said with a laugh. “What, the fucking janitor got a promotion?”

  “Fuck you.” I hung up.

  I was so angry that I knew I couldn’t hide it from Tremel. I was still crying when I walked into apartment. I saw him on the couch watching boxing on HBO. He was so engrossed in the fight that he didn’t notice I was there, until I slammed the door.

  “Hi, baby.”

  His eyes didn’t leave the screen, but when I didn’t answer, he looked my way.

  “Hey.” His smile turned into concern, when he looked over at me and quickly realized that something was up. “What’s wrong?” He turned off the fight and walked over to me.

  I placed my index finger over my mouth and shook my head from side to side, signaling that I couldn’t talk about it.

  He wrapped his arms around me. “Sarai, what happened?”

  We moved to the couch, and I didn’t know what I would tell him. I just knew that I couldn’t tell him what the tears were really about.

  Feeling his heart beating against my side made me believe that he deserved to know the truth. But the thought of losing him or him never trusting me again outweighed my guilt.

  I stared into his eyes and what I said wasn’t a lie. “You mean the world to me.”

  His eyes lit up, and he smiled. “Is that why you’re crying?”

  “No.”

  “Then what’s wrong? How was dinner?”

  “I didn’t go,” I said.

  “Why not?” He looked confused.

  “There was an accident.” Another big fat lie instead of a little bit of truth passed my tongue and rushed through my lips. “An accident that happened right in front of me. A teenage girl died.”

  Where was I getting this stuff?

  “It could’ve been me. It just made me realize that life is too short. I stayed at the scene a while and then just came back here to you.” Every part of the lie was leaving an open wound. “I love you, Tremel.” If I had said it one day earlier, it wouldn’t have meant what it meant at that moment. “I couldn’t go another day without you knowing that.” I kissed him. “I love you.”

  He squeezed my body tighter and took a deep breath. “I love your hips, I love your thighs. I love your lips and the way you roll your eyes. I love not just what you say, but the way you say what you say. I love being with you, love coming home to you every day. I love when you’re strong, but I love it when you’re weak. I love when you’re happy, but even when you’re bleak. I love the big things, but also the simple things that we do. For you I’d do anything, Sarai, because I love you too.”

  If I weren’t already crying, I would’ve started then. “You’re so sweet.” He was full of surprises. “When did you make that up?”

  “About a week ago. I was just hoping you’d give me a reason to recite it to you.” He kissed me, and my head fell to his shoulder.

  I felt as though I let him down even more by lying, but one thing was certain—I was in love with him.

  We didn’t do any more talking. I fell asleep later, and he carried my motionless body to the bedroom, placed me under the sheets, and never left my side.

  On Monday morning I checked my website e-mail and found a query from a customer named T.C. I knew that it was Tremel. He had paid fifteen bucks a few times to submit queries before. In the past, he jokingly asked about flying to Paris, Japan, and Rome. But this time he asked me to make arrangements for him and his girlfriend to fly back to his hometown of Cleveland in three weeks for Thanksgiving.

  I researched the information and sent it to him as I always did. However, I was shocked when he sent me a return e-mail the following day with his credit card information and instructions to book the trip.

  He stepped into the apartment after work looking as sexy as ever in his blue uniform.

  The way I rushed him daily, you’d think he was wearing an Armani suit. “Hi, Tremie.”

  He hated to be called that and would normally tackle me to the ground playfully when I did. “If I didn’t have business to take care of with you, I’d hurt you.” He grabbed me by the waist and kissed me.

  “What business do you have with me?”

  “Our trip to Cleveland.”

  I laughed. “You’re such a jokester.”

  “What?” he said. “Didn’t you get my e-mail?”

  “About the trip?”

  “Yeah,” he said seriously. “Were you able to find an evening flight on that Wednesday?”

  “Tremel, if I put your credit card number in, it’ll really buy the ticket.” I giggled.

  “Okay, and?” He looked at me strangely. “That’s what I want.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Sarai, I’m serious.”

  I looked at him. “You want me to go with you to Cleveland for Thanksgiving?”

  “Yes.”

  “Won’t your family be there?” I was nervous already.

  “Yes, that’s the reason we’re going.” He laughed. “You don’t want to meet them?”

  “No.” I was confused. “I mean yes. It’s not that I don’t want to meet them, but you don’t think it’s too soon?”

  Strangely, the good thing about Damian was that he had no family. Therefore, I never had to worry about anyone judging me. Tremel knew that I wasn’t a big fan of seeking approval. Whenever I saw t
he area code 216 on the caller ID, I shouted for him to pick up, and if he wasn’t home, the call went straight to voicemail.

  “We’ve been a couple over two months now.” Then he added, “I thought we were looking to be long-term.”

  “We are, but I’m not good with parents, meeting family and all that stuff,” I said. “Why don’t you go, and I’ll just stay here? We can go together another time.” I wasn’t the average woman; I couldn’t even cook. “What if your mom asked me to help her in the kitchen?”

  “Then I’ll call the fire department,” he joked. “I’m just kidding. Relax. Everything will be all right.”

  ‘Relax’? I was about to have an anxiety attack. “Maybe we can go for Easter or something.” I was making up anything, any holiday, just not the one that was three weeks away.

  “I’ve told my mom about you.”

  “You did?”

  My heat skipped about eight beats. Mothers wanted their sons with girls who loved to cook, clean, bake, and sew. The majority of things I cooked were also microwaveable. Why bake a cake when you can buy it? If something had to be sewn, that meant it went to Goodwill. I was clean, but only where it counted. I didn’t lift up the rug or move a chair to look for dirt more than once a month.

  “My mother will love you.” He took my hand. “Let’s book our flights.”

  It was settled. We were flying to Cleveland late Wednesday night and coming back on Sunday afternoon. To me, the stay was too long. I had no idea what I could do with strangers for four days.

  Tremel was pumped up about us staying in his old room, which meant even more time around his family. I wasn’t thrilled. Thank God, when he called his mother and learned that both of his grandparents, an uncle, and a few aunts would also be there, he elected to stay at a hotel so that his older relatives could enjoy the comfort of his parents’ home.