by Lolah Lace
Kat gave me a subtle look and it was just enough for me to discern. We learned to read each other’s eyes back at the candy shop.
I left the room with my tea. I rounded the corner but I only moved out of eyeshot not out of earshot. I wanted to hear what a wanker like Erik said to the woman he’d been disloyal too during their marriage. I wasn’t worried. It’s not like he ever came up in conversations. He was a non-factor. He didn’t keep up with a study visitation schedule and the random kid with a woman he had an affair with made him a real scumbag.
“Katrina.” Erik’s voiced was strained.
“What? What do you want?”
“How long have you been fucking this kid?”
“What kid?”
“Don’t get cute, the White boy?”
“None of your business.”
“It’s my business if you have him here at my house with my son. Aaron said this is your boyfriend.”
“He is correct. Yes that man is my boyfriend. But this isn’t your house. I got the house in the divorce. This is my house.”
“You pay the mortgage with my child support.” He spewed.
That issue could easily be fixed. I could just buy Kat a new house.
KATRINA
“Erik please, stop being a drama queen.”
“Is he legal?”
“Don’t ask me stupid questions.”
“He looks like one of Aaron’s friends from high school.”
“Good grief, get a grip. He's a grown-ass man.”
“Is he British or something?”
“Duh.”
“Where the hell did you find a young British muthafucker?”
“That’s just something else in the pile of shit that’s not your business.”
“Have you lost your mind? Is Kennedy older than this boy? Does she know about this?”
“Yes, of course, she does and she’s fine with it.”
“She always picks your side.”
“There are no sides to pick. We are divorced. This is my personal life. I don’t care what hookers you have in and out of your house. You need to worry about your business and let me worry about mine.”
“Katrina, are you really fucking this boy with back tattoos?”
All night long was the response that came to mine but I said, “Yes sir.” Instead with a head nod.
“Where did you find a British White boy? Man ain’t this some bullshit.”
“He’s a grown man.”
“Where?” Erik looked around the room and I didn’t think his actions were funny or called for. “Where, tell me where is he a grown man?”
“Where it counts.”
“Okay. I can see this kid has got you acting real immature.”
“Please leave my house.”
“What kind of job does he have? McDonald’s?”
“He’s an international jewel thief.”
“Oh, you think this is funny?”
“Yeah, sort of. I don’t owe you any explanations. Go home to Tasha, LaTasha or Stephanie, whoever. Tell her I said hi. Ask her how she feels about being a step-mother to your little three-year-old daughter, Imani.”
His face showed his shock. “See, that’s why we’re not together now. You petty.”
Petty fuckin’ Betty. “Erik, we’re not together because you’re a cheater and a liar. I bet you wished you got that vasectomy now.”
“I don’t need a vasectomy. I take care of mine.”
“The child support is court-ordered basically because you don’t take care of yours. Don’t walk up in my house again. You no longer live here and you need to ring the damn doorbell.”
“I feel like kicking yo’ boy out on his British ass.”
“Ah no, please don’t. He’s not the type you fuck with.”
“What’s that mean to me?”
“He’s not afraid of your Black ass. Have you seen his body?”
“I don’t give a shit about his little child muscles.”
“Erik, I don’t want Aaron to see his father get his ass beat. My boyfriend will hand you your ass then cuss you out in British slang.”
“I wish that muthafucka would beat my ass.”
“I kind of wish he would too. I would actually love it. But let’s put our son first. Plus, you’re too damn old to fight anyway. I know you. You know your back ain’t what it used to be. Please brutha, don’t embarrass yourself.”
“You have outdone yourself this time.”
“You really sound like a jealous ex.”
“No, I’m not. Pah, jealous of what? Don’t come crying to me when this man-child leaves you without a cent to your name. I bet you got this boy staying up in your house for free. Is he paying you to live here?”
“Oh god, like you care about my finances.”
“Where my kids going to live once this joker rips you off.”
My eyes rolled to the ceiling. “God, grant me the serenity. I’m done with you. The older you get the stupider.”
“Naw, you the stupid one. He is going to take your old ass to the cleaners.”
“He has his own money. Who do you think bought me the Benz truck for my birthday? He’s not trying to get my money. That’s something you would do.”
“I can’t believe you.”
“Believe it and get out of my house.”
I wasn’t joking. I wanted Erik to leave. His concern was laughable. His little ego was bruised and I didn’t give a damn. He had some nerve. He caught him cheating twice and I was quite sure he cheated more than those couple of times I’d caught him. I wasn’t in the mood for him or the foolishness that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. He was supposed to drop Aaron off and keep it moving.
“Katrina, is this boy a drug dealer?”
Is your raggedy-ass mammie a drug dealer? “I’m so done with you.”
I couldn’t stand his bald-headed mother. She condones her son’s foolishness. She knew her son was cheating and now she even knew about that baby he had while we were married.
“That’s a ninety thousand dollar truck out there? Do you have a drug dealer in here with my son?”
“You sound like a whole idiot. It’s a GLS580 fully loaded. It’s 100K.” I knew that because Jagger told me. ”Get out my house, Mr. Bilson.” I wasn’t one to put my hands on a man but I had to give this naker a forceful shove toward the back door.
Erik was mildly surprised. Hopefully, he would take his startled looking ass right out the door sometime soon. Then a superhero appeared from around the corner. Jagger walked past both Erik and me and opened the back door. I had no idea what he was doing until he did it. His laidback stride was so cool and calm. I’m sure it shocked the shit out of Erik. Jagger appeared so welcomed and comfortable in my house, maybe even cocky.
Jagger extended his hand in a gallant motion outward— right out the doorframe. Erik looked confused not really scared but maybe my boyfriend’s British balls gave him pause. Jagger didn’t look like he’d whoop his ass. But he looked like that could be a thought somewhere in the back of his musically talented brain.
The wrinkles in Erik’s forehead creased with a bold old prominence. He looked terrible. He wasn’t aging well. All his new women obviously hadn’t been taking care of him the way I did. It was only a few seconds when the light bulb went off and Erik pimped his goofy ass out the open back door.
I was too damn old to feel flattered that Jagger would have probably given my ex-husband a British beat down. I was very pleased.
God, I loved Jagger.
Chapter 25
KATRINA
Most of the critics had nice things to say about the new Toxic Shock album. I voted that the album would be called London State of Mind and that’s what they went with. I wasn’t the only one that voted. I wasn’t sure if my vote counted for anything but it felt good to have that little piece of information before all the millions of fans.
Rolling Stone gave the album rave reviews. I was on cloud nine. It almost felt like I’d help wr
ite the songs. I knew that I had inspired at least half the songs on the album. So Sweet, Bad Boy Toy, Jumping Into Something, Touch Me, Dance The Night Away and Brutal Honesty were mine to cherish forever.
I loved that a man was writing songs about me and about the time we sent together. It would have felt good to have a single song written about me that never saw the light of day. It was the thought that counted. But hearing So Sweet on the radio for the first time had me beaming.
The record company was giving Toxic Shock a release party in a few days that undoubtedly coincided with the release of the album. The boys were doing a lot of press to promote the album along with the upcoming world tour. I was happy for Jagger and the band but this meant I was probably not going to see much of him.
I’d never flown first class before and Jagger booked a flight for me. Well, he didn’t actually book anything. His assistant Matt Bianche took care of my flight info and even sent me a very detailed itinerary that had all of Jagger’s available free time.
I was informed that there would be a surprise birthday celebration for Jagger with the album release party. I guess they wanted to kill two birds with one stone. Jagger knew about the party so it wasn’t a surprise but he was an actor also so he was going to act surprised.
Matt was a very good assistant. I could tell that much without meeting him in person. He was patient and pleasant and full of pertinent information, He sent me the projected weather for the days I would be in Los Angeles. He was really on top of it. I was impressed.
I was able to get my daughter to come home for the weekend. I needed her to keep an eye on her brother. He had a car now, my old BMW. I didn’t want him roaming the streets all hours because I wasn’t around to check him. Kennedy was stricter than me. She was young and could smell young people’s bull like a bloodhound. She was going to make one hell of a lawyer.
There was no way I was going to ask my ex to watch our son over the weekend so I could go out of town. I had to block his number after he kept calling me for what I believed to be no good reason. Why this man cared about whom I dated was beyond me. I think my brand new Mercedes truck really was the problem. I don’t know if he was jealous but it sure seemed that way. Jealous of the truck or jealous of young virile Jagger, I didn’t know which one or if it was both?
Kennedy was dropping me off at the airport. It was going to be a chance for us to have a serious conversation. I wanted to know how she really felt about my relationship. I turned to radio down.
“I’m going to L.A.”
“Yes, you are.” She keep her eyes on the road.
“Do you think I’m doing too much?”
“No Ma, I don’t.”
“I’m flying to L.A. for a guy.”
“He flew here to see you twice. He’s paying for this trip. It’s just the weekend.”
“Yeah, but it feels strange going to meet up with him. I’m going to have to be with him in public with other people around. I’m a little nervous.”
“You nervous, I don’t believe it.”
“I don’t know any of these music people. I will be completely out of my element. This isn’t a writers conference.”
“They don’t know you either. He invited you. That’s a good enough reason to go. Plus, Aaron loves this dude.”
“Well Aaron ended up with a car because of Jagger so.”
“And he ended up with two hundred thousand IG followers because of that video.”
“Right, I wish he would’ve asked me before tagging my son in a video.”
“Ma, no harm came from it. Now Aaron has an audience for the little short films he makes.”
“That’s true.”
“I don’t see Aaron working a regular job. He’s very creative so he should start to build his brand now when he’s young.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“I’m just wondering when I get to meet your young lover.”
I rolled my eyes. I hated it when she said things like that. “You never come home.”
“I’m really busy. This is senior year. I have a lot to figure out. I’m happy to watch my little brother. But next time you need to stand up to dad and tell him it’s his turn to watch Aaron. Just because he has this other child doesn’t mean he has to completely neglect the kids that he had in his marriage. I don’t even see him so he should at the very least deal with his son.”
“He’s still mad about Jagger.”
“Well, he's going to have to get over it. Ma, I can count. I know he had that other kid when you were still married. I looked over those divorce papers. He got off easy. Plus he didn’t even have to go half on a car for Aaron. He should’ve bought Aaron a car because he’s the one that broke up the marriage. I’m just saying he has some nerves. Don’t worry about anything back at home. I have everything under control.”
I believed her when she said it. It was odd that she could comfort me now that she was an adult. Being young and having a daughter first was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I was so proud of her. She was a good example for her brother and he did look up to her.
In minutes we arrived at O’hare International Airport. Kennedy helped me with my bags and sent me on my way. My fear soon turned into excitement. I looked forward to seeing Jagger in his element. I’d never seen him as a star. But he really was a whole celebrity. This was going to be interesting.
My flight to LAX went well. Matt met at the airport. He was a handsome and well put together young man. He had a sign and a car waiting. He drove. He was Jagger’s assistant and he sent him to the airport to pick me up. He could’ve easily sent a car service. Something about it made me feel extra special.
Matt made small talk with me while we rode to the house in Beverly Hills. I didn’t have much information but I knew the release party was being held at Nobu.
The house in Beverly Hills was huge and rather opulent. It dawned on me; all these extra amenities were what Jagger was used to. He didn’t complain at all about the accommodations at my house. Now I look back and I can’t believe he would stay with me in that small apartment above Sweet Treats. His world was a different world.
Matt led me to a spacious upstairs bedroom. It resembled a huge studio apartment. I recognized a few things around the room. Vicky, Jagger’s guitar was on the table in the corner. I run my fingers across it because it was something I respected.
“You’re in the same room with Mr. Adkins.” Matt’s voice woke me out of my singular thought. “Please make yourself at home. He should be arriving shortly. He wants to give you a tour of the grounds. If you need anything from me just send me a text. I will get back to you right away. Seriously if you need anything.”
“I’m good right now. Thank you, Matt. Thanks for the ride.”
“Of course Ms. Sweet. Closet, bathroom, terrace.” He pointed as he spoke. He gave me a slight grin and walked out the door closing it behind him.
I ventured around the room. I tried to breathe. This was all new to me and I hoped it went well. I felt a little out of my element. This wasn’t my day-to-day lifestyle but I was going to just embrace it. There was a lot of pressure on Jagger with this new album. He practically wrote all the songs, he produced half of them and he sang lead on the majority of them. He had to fight to get some of the songs on the London State of Mind album.
Within minutes Jagger arrived. He was wearing shiny brown leather-look pants, and a thin ripped tan sweater. He was wearing translucent silver boots. He had a few rings on his fingers, a gold chain rope bracelet on his wrist and designer sunglasses. He even had a tiny gold hoop earring in his ear. His hair was perfectly coiffed into something that looked like the late Elvis Presley would wear. He almost looked like a stranger but his swag was there. I recognized his Jagger swagger. He didn’t look any of the boy band members of my day. He looked like a rock star.
“Babe.” He removed his sunglasses. His eyes instantly shut down all my apprehension.
He strutted over to me. His long toned arms em
braced me. He held me so tight he could break me. Baby, baby, baby, I wanted to be broken. He greeted me like that guy wearing Levi’s and a concert tee. Not the guy wearing— if I took a guess, three thousand dollars worth of clothes.
Sex, there was a lot of sex. So much sex that I didn’t have the energy to go out to dinner with his tribe. I mustered up some hidden oomph and got showered and dressed.
Jagger let my shower first. I was the one that needed more time so I appreciated it. I had a little red dress that showed off my curves and didn’t make my breasts look droopy. I can honestly say I looked like a whole snack. I hadn’t completely sweated my curls out but I did need some edge control. I didn’t put a full face of makeup on. I used some powder, some liner, and mascara and for the red dress and went with a bold red matte lip. I stepped into my red Louboutin pumps, a random gift from Jagger. I was used to getting unplanned deliveries to my house from him. He would see something and get Matt to send it to me. At less that’s what Matt told me.
There was a knock on the bedroom door that I very softly heard. I went to the door and opened it. Winston a member of Toxic Shock was standing there. He was an attractive young man. He looked better in person than in pictures. Weird because Jagger told me almost all the pictures were airbrushed.
“So you’re the woman that stole my best mates heart.”
“I’m Katrina.” I don’t steal but whatever.
“I’m Winston.” He kind of rolled his eyes at me. Winston edged past me and into the bedroom without my consent. “Where’s Jag?”
“In the shower.”
He analyzed me with his light brown, maybe hazel eyes.
“You know, he refused to show me a pic of you.”
“No, I didn’t know that.”
“I wonder why he never mentioned you were Black? He just said you were American.”
“I don’t know. You’d have to ask him.”
“Well, you’re a looker, so I get it.”
I couldn’t tell if he was complimenting me or insulting me. Maybe he was doing both. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this young man. Winston was Black and British but he was no Idris Iba. He was pretty instead of handsome and he still looked like a teenager.
