Eitan got here before I was all the way done, so I took pleasure in making him wait. Finally, I was looking perfect, so I sprayed on my Versace perfume and then met him outside of my door.
“For real? You couldn’t let me wait on the couch?” He stared down at me.
He looked good, smelled good too. I could tell his money situation was very different by his clothes, jewelry, and of course, all the shit he was sending me. His hair was freshly braided back and tapered on the sides.
“Yep. Did you mind waiting for this?”
“Not at all. Can I have a kiss?”
Yes! is what I wanted to say…
“We’ll see how you do tonight.” I started walking, and he chuckled while following me.
Eitan walked around me once we got to where the cars were parked, and he jogged to a Bentley to open the door for me.
“Yes… get yo’ fine ass in,” he commented, making me blush a little bit.
“This is nice, Mr. Rapper,” I told him once he was in the car with me.
“It’s just a little something.”
“Nigga, please. You know this shit is nice. I can’t wait until I can push a luxury whip.”
“You can.”
“You must not have seen my bank account recently.” I stared at the side of his face as he drove.
“Nah, but I seen mine.” He glanced at me.
“I don’t want you buying me a car, Eitan.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not my man. If you were my man, then sure, but that’s not the case so…”
“But you kept all the other stuff I gave you.”
“Which stuff? The recent gifts or the stuff you asked me to give back to you? That’s another reason I don’t like taking gifts from you. If we don’t get along anymore for some reason, you’re gonna want it back.”
“I was just upset.”
“Whatever.”
We just enjoyed the music for the rest of the ride, seemingly lost in our own thoughts. We ended up at this placed named Craigs, where as soon as the manager found out Eitan was in the building, he got us seated, made sure our drink orders were in, and gave us a free bottle of wine.
“Shit, this meal probably gon’ be free.” Eitan grinned, tasting the liquor.
“I don’t get why people give celebrities free shit. Y’all already have money. Why not give the free shit to the poor people?”
“Because satisfying us makes us come back, and us being seen here is free promotion for them. It’s a low-key business transaction. Poor or regular folk don’t have enough clout to get free shit.”
“Humph.” I sat back to look down at my menu.
“Don’t be upset. I’m yo’ man, so you’ll reap the benefits of this lifestyle.”
“You are not my man, Eitan.”
The waiter came over with our cocktails, so we ordered our food and an appetizer as well.
“Why can’t I be yo’ man, Rubie? We clearly wanna be together, and I apologized publicly for the diss track.”
“Yes, and I appreciate that, even though I had to tell you to do it. But we can’t be, because you have a child on the way and didn’t tell me.”
“Okay, well now you know. Let’s move on.”
“No, we can’t move on, because I don’t know how that is gonna affect you… us.”
“It won’t, woman.”
“And who is this girl with the F name from The Pink Cherry?”
“Something I’m smashing here and there.” He pretended to be captivated by what was in his wine glass.
“What’s her name?”
“Why?”
“What is it? She seems to think y’all are nearly man and wife. You’re just spreading that dick everywhere, huh?”
Laughing heartily at my comment, he said, “Her name is Frida. She’s cool. We fuck on occasions, and I throw her some bread to shop.”
“How much bread?”
“Rubie.”
“Eitan.” I gave him the same look he was giving me. “You wanna be my boyfriend, then I need to know what you’ve been doing. What if we get back together and she tries to drop bombs on me? I wanna know it all.”
Sitting back and looking off like he was pondering, he finally regained eye contact with me, “I give her like twenty racks here and there.”
“Are you fucking serious!” I shouted by accident.
“That’s chump change to me. It’s just some little shit. I don’t feel right fucking a female and not doing shit for her.”
This was one time where I wished Eitan took on some of Tony’s traits. According to the streets, he made bitches split the bill, even at Norms. That of course excluded Camarih.
“That needs to stop. In fact, cut her off.”
“You gon’ be with me if I do?”
“I will spend time with you and see where it goes, but only if you stop messing with her and stop giving her money.”
I was still bewildered by the fact that this bitch was getting twenty racks from him. I wanted to know how frequently but figured I probably didn’t want to know.
“Shit, I’m with that. So how that interview go? I know you got the job, but what you gon’ be doing? Working with me all the time?”
“Calm down, homie.” I put my hand up as he winked.
I proceeded to give him the rundown of how the interview went and what I would be doing exactly. It was okay that I wasn’t getting paid because Daddy Bailey was handling my expenses.
Even though my father gave me a lot, he raised me to work for what I wanted.
So yes, he was paying my bills and giving me money to spend on certain things, but I wasn’t able to just call him up for a new Louis Vuitton bag and expect a yes. Even back in the day, I could only get nice things for my birthday or Christmas. Maybe I could get the latest Jordans on a normal day if he was in a good mood.
So at the moment, he was simply helping take the financial burden off of me so that I could elevate my career and eventually be able to care for myself. I didn’t see anything wrong with that. Hell, why work so hard to get wealthy just to throw your kid out into the wind when you see them trying?
Eitan and I talked all through dinner and even dessert. This outing just made me miss him even more, especially when he told me he was getting ready for a tour Tony was putting together.
“You should come spend the night with me. I got a new spot you ain’t seen.”
“You sure are spending a lot.”
“I know, but Wacko hired a financial advisor, and he makes all of us check in with him. He tells us what’s in the budget and what ain’t.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, and it ain’t too much that’s not in my budget.”
Rolling my eyes with a smile since I was tipsy, I asked, “What’s not in the budget?”
“A G-650.”
“The private plane?” When he nodded, I laughed at his cocky ass. “Well okay then.” Taking a sip of my cocktail, I watched him out the corner of my eye. I was so horny. “I guess I can come check it out.”
It was nice not having to worry about waking up early in the morning to go get bossed around by Mark.
“Aight, cool.” Just as he took his card out to place down for the check, his phone rang. He checked it out, then silenced it.
“Thank you,” I said, referring to him paying the hefty bill.
Again, his phone started ringing, so he answered after grunting lowly.
“What? I’m busy.”
I heard a woman on the phone. He was trying to get her to calm down, but she was frantic. Finally, he said he would be wherever she was soon, before hanging up.
“Who was that?” I quizzed.
“Holli. She claims something is wrong with the baby, so she needs me to come over and take her to the hospital.”
“Oh… well yeah, go ahead. I will catch an Uber home.”
“Nah, no. Come with me and—”
“Come with you? Why would I come with you?” I stood up, grabb
ing my purse.
“I’m just taking her to the hospital to make sure she’s good. After that, we can head to my crib. I may have to take her back home, unless she has to stay at the hospital, but that’ll be quick.”
“Tonight was nice, Eitan, but I think I’m gonna pass.”
Rising, he replied, “Shit. Aight, how about tomorrow night?”
“No, I meant pass on you; this. The baby isn’t even here, and she’s already needy. I can only imagine when she’s born. You guys are gonna have to be damn near attached at the hip during that baby’s first weeks on Earth. And unfortunately, I’m not strong enough emotionally to be second to your baby mama just for you to come to me saying you wanna be a family with her one day.”
All I could think about was Camarih and Tony with their baby. I couldn’t deal with Eitan and Holli being that bonded and spending all that time together. And how many times did niggas leave their girlfriend for their new baby mama, to give their child a chance at having a family?
“Rubie, it ain’t gon’ be like that.” He came around the table to grab me, but I moved.
“I won’t be around to find out.” I started toward the door.
I wasn’t outside for long before Eitan appeared. I’d already ordered the car.
“Rubie, listen, I don’t even fuck with her like that to be all up under her just because of our daughter.”
“Did you see the photos of the baby shower, Eitan?”
“Photos don’t mean shit. It could look like anything.”
“You were hugging her and smiling. You kissed her on the forehead. That’s how it starts. Then the late nights with the baby, and whatever else, next thing you know, y’all are fucking behind my back.”
“Rubie—”
“I’m good! Leave me alone!”
Staring at me for a minute, Eitan shook his head and then walked off to get his car from valet. As we both waited for our rides, we acted just like we didn’t know one another, not saying a word.
7
Tony Wacko
This evening, Paramount and a few other big-time labels were having a huge ass party. There were gon’ be a lot of muthafuckas there, including a few artists that I was interested in signing. I’d reached my personal quota of new artists, so I was only looking for seasoned niggas at this point.
New artists were cool ’cause you could really mold their asses, but they required more patience, grooming, and most importantly, money. Shit, and sometimes you’d spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on a muthafucka just for their music not to even make you back half of that shit.
A nigga had been blessed so far though with Eitan and Nala doing fairly well. Angel’s ass was the only new bitch at this point, and I sometimes wasn’t too sure about her ass. I just wished I could find a female vocalist that had not only the talent but her fucking head together. Both Angel and Nala were some fire ass singers, but their mentals were on some bullshit.
“You ready?” I asked Camarih as soon as she entered the living room where I was waiting for her.
My sister agreed to watch Baby Cuz for the night, but under one condition; that I would talk to that bitch ass nigga Vernon without beating his ass. I told her I would, but soon as it came time, I was reneging on that fucking promise.
“I am.” Camarih smiled, stopping by the mirror to check herself out.
Her hair was straight at the moment with that whole wavy shit going on. And that pink short ass dress she was rocking looked good as shit against that butterscotch complexion. My bitch was beautiful as fuck, but I could tell her ass ain’t know just how much. I made it a point to always let her know though.
“Do the silver shoes and purse go?” she asked Jilly.
“Yes, you look so pretty!”
“Thank you! Okay!”
“Let me take a photo.” Jilly snapped one in her phone before sitting back down on the couch.
Whipping out my phone, I got ready to take my own photos just as Camarih looked my way.
“Houston, no video, because you always make me look so corny.” She smirked.
“Ain’t my fault yo’ nigga be making you blush and shit.”
“Stop it!” She grinned.
“And why you trying to front on me ’cause Jilly here like I ain’t take all yo’ fucking photos in Mexico?” She had me fucked up.
Giggling, Camarih responded, “You’re right, baby. I’m sorry. Those were nice too.”
After a few pictures, I started a video without her knowing.
“Damn girl, you got a nigga?” I quizzed.
“I do and he’s crazy.”
“Good answer.” I posted the shit to my social media as Camarih went to say bye to our son.
“I’ll be back soon, Pooh Bear.” She nuzzled him, making me shake my fucking head.
Finally, she left Baby Cuz alone so we could bounce.
“That ass is sitting way too right, Camarih.” I talked as I walked behind her now that we were outside, near the whip. I had a driver for the night.
“Thank you.” She looked over her shoulder, winking.
“And I’m getting a little tipsy tonight.” I pressed my dick against her ass as I opened the back door. I always let the driver nigga know not to open doors for my girl unless we were getting out of the car. Fuck I look like letting another nigga do that chivalrous shit for my bitch? “I can’t wait to beat that shit up.” I spoke against Camarih’s ear before kissing her neck, while palming her stomach to keep her body against mine.
“Stop, Houston, because we still have to go to the party.” She moaned almost before getting into the black SUV.
I made sure to squeeze her ass on the way. That shit had definitely gotten fatter since she’d been pregnant, and the pussy had somehow gotten better too.
On the way to the party, I was feeling all over her ass. We got there seemingly quick, and after letting the nigga at the door know who I was, with a simple raise of brow, we were up in that bitch. I found the table reserved for my label, and sat down with my girl.
Shit was chill, especially when Eitan showed up, but unfortunately with that skinny ass stripper hoe from The Pink Cherry. Bitch looked way more expensive than the last time I saw her ass, so I knew Eitan was spending money on her like a fool.
“Oh, my bad. Camarih, this is Frida. Frida, this is Camarih.” Eitan cheesed.
“Hi!” Frida reached to shake Camarih’s hand.
“Uh, hello,” Camarih replied dryly as fuck.
“And you know the homie Wacko already.” Eitan pointed. “Wacko, this is Frida.”
“I remember that hoe from the club, nigga.”
“Houston.” Camarih nudged me.
“Come on, man.” Eitan shook his head. His girl ain’t seem to mind as she sipped her drink and swayed in her seat to the music.
After a while, Dirko showed up with his skinny titty baby mama, the Gangstar Girlz, and then Nala. The latter knew to keep the shit respectful, so after speaking to everybody, she stayed far away from Camarih and me.
Needing to mingle, I got up and made conversation, especially with artists I was interested in. And just as I was about to head back to my table, a familiar face got in my fucking path: Mark Vegas.
“How are you doing, Mr. Terranova?” He grinned, sticking his hand out to shake mine. I ignored it.
“Fuck you want, bruh?” I questioned, making him straighten up a bit and clear his throat. Homie was shorter than me, like most people, so his head was tilted back slightly.
“I was wondering if we could talk business; I know if it makes you money, you’re interested.”
I was intrigued, only a little bit by now, so I nodded for him to continue.
“And it bet not be no bullshit.”
“I promise it’s not. So I know that you’ve signed Angel onto your label,” he started, and when I didn’t say shit, he continued. “Right. Well, I’m a manager, and a very good one, so I was thinking maybe I could still manage her while she’s signed to you.”
&n
bsp; “Angel is new and not in need of a manager at this point. I manage all things that go on with her career. So what the fuck is you talking about?” I moved toward him, so he backed up, tripping slightly over something.
“Of course, yes, but I was thinking I could help. You have plenty of artists, and if I took that load off, you could really make a profit off Angel. For instance, if you’re too busy, I could be booking her shows, and you’d get a cut.”
“Or, I can tell you that you got two muthafuckin seconds to get the fuck up out of my face ’fore I snooze yo’ ass.”
He started off straightaway just as Camarih was coming over to me, but he paused and asked, “Are you sleeping with Angel? She said some things—” He stopped when he noticed Camarih nearing.
“You and them flooding ass bell bottoms better scram, nigga.” I neared his ass, making him scurry, but Camarih put her hand on my chest, reminding me I was at a business event and trying to make business moves.
“How did he even find pants that short?” Camarih laughed, getting on her tiptoes to peck me. When I didn’t say anything, due to me trying to relax my nerves, she asked, “Who was he talking about?”
“That crusty ass Angel that DSL brought to me.” I took a drink from one of the passing waiters.
“It’s Rubie. And why would he be asking if you fucked her?”
Sometimes I hated that Camarih’s fucking hearing was so damn good.
“Fuck would I know?” I watched her as I drank some of the liquor.
“Fine. I will ask her myself when I see her.”
“You saying that shit like I’m supposed to be scared. Ask her whatever the fuck you want to.”
“I will, and she better not say the wrong thing, or I’m beating her ass and slicing your dick.”
I laughed, pulling her closer with my free hand as she rolled her eyes.
“You making me horny as fuck with yo’ little psycho ass.” I took another sip, eyeing her lustfully. “I ain’t worried about you slicing this dick. You love it too much.”
“It’s aight.”
Placing my glass down on the table, I brought her even more into me, feeling all over her ass while saying, “Oh, that’s why you be ‘Houston, oh my gosh, I can’t cum anymore. You in my stomach’—”
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