Before I Let Go (25 page)

“As a matter of fact, India, we’re about to leave now. My nana’s in the passenger seat now. She’s dozed off, and I guess it’s for the best. That way I can listen to some real music. Ya know what I’m sayin’?” Nate was lying, and India knew it.

“Is that right? So when are you coming back? Maybe you could stop by and pick me up. I could easily take tomorrow off.” India couldn’t believe that he was lying right through his teeth. Maybe he was playing. She was hoping that he was kidding. He had to know that her car was directly beside his as he drove down New York Avenue. Her heart began to swell up and fall into her stomach as Nate began to pile up lie on top of lie.

“I would, but Nana really wants to get there quick. If she woke up and we were in Forestville instead of on I-95 South she would go off.”

“So, where are you now, Nate?” India asked, as she dropped her car seat back a little. She realized that Nate hadn’t seen her because there was a garment bag hanging in his back right window creating a blind spot.

“We’re on 395 south. It’s about to turn into 95,” Nate said, while he stopped at the light. When Nate came up with an excuse to get off the phone, she let him off reluctantly.

India was getting hot. She started to get out of her car at that light, knock on Nate’s window, and bust his ass right there. But she figured that by keeping her cool she could see what he was up to, and that is exactly what she did. She kept her cool as he went into the tunnel leading to 395, then as he crossed the 14
^th
Street Bridge right into Crystal City. All of this without a trace of his grandmother in the car. India was pissed to the highest level by the time he walked in and out of the carryout with a bag obviously big enough for two. Definitely too large for one. By the time he pulled into Sahleen’s complex, India was so angry she was ready to fight. And if some bitch had come out, that is exactly what she was prepared to do.

India took a space a little farther down the walkway. She watched Nate walk toward a side entrance of the building. When the door swung open, she saw a woman there. She handed something to Nate, and he ran back toward his car. He hung the paper, a visitor’s pass, on his rearview mirror. He grabbed his bag and the food from the seat and walked back toward the building where the woman was still standing. For a minute India thought that Sahleen was a white woman, until she focused her eyes harder. She was a sister, all right. She just looked like a slightly darker version of Alicia Keys. India wanted to get out of the car, but she was crying too hard. Her tears had paralyzed her. Nate was a liar. He was going upstairs to eat and fuck, probably for the entire weekend. He probably wasn’t going anywhere.

India sat there thinking a thousand thoughts while her heart broke into just as many pieces. “That no-good dog. Nate is a lying ass son of a bitch. I can’t believe he did this to me,” India thought. Then she yelled out at the top of her lungs, “I’m going to kill this motherfucker. He’s fucked over the wrong one this time.” She said it over and over again, just like so many others had before her. Nate had no idea that India was sitting in her car at that moment, and he had no idea that she sat there until almost four in the morning, waiting for him to come back out, before she finally put the blade back in her purse and drove off.

T
here is something serene and jazzy about seeing the skyline of New York City. It pumped Nate up and made him want to do big things, just looking at it. He thought for a second about how the Twin Towers were missing but how the city’s skyline was still alive.

His system was pumping a DJ Clue mix CD that had annoyed the hell out of Sahleen for the last half an hour on the turnpike. Normally, when Sahleen made a request, Nate would comply, but not today. He was listening to the
Welcome to Atlanta
remix, where all the rappers were representing for their cities. She had asked him at least three times to put on something else, but Nate wasn’t having it. Now Sahleen was claiming to have a headache.

“Do you know which exit to take?” Sahleen asked.

“We’re taking the GW Bridge, right?” Nate answered with a question.

“No. Take the Lincoln Tunnel to Midtown. Then take Eighth Avenue. We’re going to the hotel first. Franco is going to meet me there at two o’clock. We have a meeting with some clients, and we need to interview two young models. After that, it’s me and you, okay?”

Nate smiled.

“We’re going to have dinner with a few friends of mine at this restaurant called Bond Street. You’ll love it.”

“What kind of food do they serve?”

“It’s been described as designer food, for a designer crowd. You’ll fit right in. Do you like sushi? Because they have a sushi bar in the back. You’re liable to see anyone in there. Regis Philbin and David Letterman frequent it.”

“Why in the hell would I want to see Regis?” Nate laughed.

“Well, Elizabeth Hurley and Pam Anderson show up there often, too.”

“That’s a little more like it.” Nate nodded his head. “But how about the sisters? Do any blacks eat there?”

“That’s not the point. The point is, it’s a nice place, and you’ll like it.” Sahleen hit the eject button and yanked Nate’s rap music out of the CD player before Nate could complain. Within seconds, Faith Evans and Carl Thomas were singing to them.

Traffic moved at a steady pace, although the midday Manhattan traffic was thick. Nate crossed over to Eighth Avenue and dropped his window. The early May air felt good, and since Sahleen’s hair was pulled back, he let her window down, too.

Nate pulled up to the Marriott Marquis and waited for someone to come and park the car. Sahleen had been touching up her makeup for ten minutes. “You have got to be right in this town. No second chance to make a first impression,” she said.

As soon as the valet came to park the car, Sahleen got out and signaled for the bellboy to come and retrieve the bags from the trunk. Nate reached under his seat and pulled out a small package and put it into his pants pocket, and then quickly got out and handed the keys to the valet. He gave the valet a fifty-dollar bill. The valet held the bill up as if to ask if he wanted change, but Nate waved him off. The hotel room they were in was eight hundred dollars a night, and all of the staff members, from the busboys to the guy playing the piano in the lobby, were paid handsomely, but the fat tip made the valet’s day and he was definitely going to take care of Nate’s ride.

Nate walked into the lobby to find Sahleen talking to Franco by the desk. They were looking over some papers Franco was holding. When they saw Nate they began to walk toward him.

“Hello Nathan, good to see you.” Franco held his hand out and gave Nate a firm handshake.

“You too, man,” Nate replied.

“Sahleen, I’m going to grab a cab out front. Hurry,” Franco said, looking at his watch.

Sahleen nodded to Franco, and then turned to Nate. “Here’s your key, baby.” She handed him a plastic card. “I’m leaving now. I’m going to be back here, hopefully, by five or so. So I’ll look for you then. Why don’t you do a little shopping?”

Nate nodded as he said, “Yeah, I probably will do that.”

“I wouldn’t advise that you take your car, though. Parking will be ridiculous.”

“Oh, no. Believe me, I’ll be cabbing it right now if I decide to go anywhere at all,” Nate said. “You better run, baby.”

“Yeah, okay.” She kissed Nate on his chocolate cheek. “Oh, yeah, you know the video shoot starts at ten tonight. They’re shooting some of it over in Times Square and Rockefeller Center, and some of it in the St. Loren Museum lobby. I think they have finished shooting at the Davis mansion out in the Hamptons.”

“All of that in one night?” Nate asked.

“No. Some tonight, some tomorrow, and the rest Sunday afternoon,” Sahleen said back over her shoulder as she walked away.

Nate visualized the shoot as he walked toward the elevator. He couldn’t wait to see Shawn Simmons and the other models who would be in the video. Nate was wishing that Brendan were there with him, because he knew that Brendan was really into Shawn Simmons.

Nate checked out
the room, which was fabulous. There was a Jacuzzi tub in the bathroom, which became the only thing Nate cared about after he saw it. The living room had a fully stocked bar, a flat-screen television set, a marble fireplace, and a vibrating easy chair. When Nate walked into the bedroom he saw a basket on the bed with champagne, assorted chocolates, and bath and body oils in it.

“Phat,” Nate said aloud to himself. Then he got naked and jumped into the Jacuzzi while it filled with hot water and bubbles. There was a remote next to it, which he fiddled with until he saw a cabinet open in the bathroom. “Of course.” Nate laughed when he saw a nineteen-inch television in the cabinet.

Nate had been soaking for almost an hour when the phone rang. Nate figured that it might be Sahleen, so he got out of the tub still dripping wet. “Hello,” he answered.

“Hello. Is this room 1622? I’m looking for Sahleen Austin. Do I have the right room?” the voice on the other end said.

“Yes, you do, but she’s not here. Who, may I ask, is calling?”

The person on the other end paused, and Nate could hear someone yelling at him in the background. He heard the voice say that Sahleen’s not there. Then he spoke into the phone. “Yes. Tell her this is Gus calling from Excite World Video. We’re shooting the video for Sony. Is this one of her models?”

“Actually, I’m a friend who came up for the shoot with her. But I am just vacationing.”

The guy had a thick accent. He sounded like he was a New Yorker. “Yeah, well, how’s your skin?” He heard more yelling in the background.

“What?” Nate asked. He readjusted his towel.

“Your skin. How is it? Do you have nice skin?”

“Yeah, why?”

“What’s your complexion…you dark or light?”

“Dark, like a Hershey bar. Why?”

“He’s dark,” Gus yelled, pulling his mouth from the phone. The voice yelled something back. “How tall are you? Are you slim, muscular, or what?”

“Look, my man, what’s with all of the questions?” Nate was about to hang up.

“C’mon, man,” Gus said. Then after a break a new voice was on the line. “Hello, this is Shawn Simmons. What time will you be expecting Sahleen?”

Nate was slightly shocked but he was still cool. “Um. She’s probably going to be out until around five.”

“Well…I didn’t catch your name.”

“My bad. I’m Nate Montgomery.”

“Well, we’re having a bit of a problem with a couple of the models in the video. The problem is that two of the men and one of the girls are stuck in Tokyo. They won’t be back in the States until Tuesday, and of course we will be done shooting by then. The reason why Gus was asking you those questions was because we were hoping that Sahleen could help us out with a couple of replacements.”

Nate was just listening to her voice. When he realized that she had stopped talking, he said, “Well, actually I’m not really a model. I am just here with Sahleen on a personal level.”

“Well, that’s even better. I know what you must look like. If Sahleen brought you up to the shoot, there’s no doubt in my mind. How tall are you?”

“I’m six-feet-one-inch, but…”

“No, no, no, but nothing. Look, I need you over here at wardrobe.” She yelled something at Gus about a car. “I am sure that Sahleen would have you do this for me. We’re pretty tight. I’m going to have Gus send a car for you. Just slip on something and be downstairs in fifteen minutes. Thanks, Nat.”

“Nate.”

“Sorry. Fifteen, okay? Toodles.” As she hung up Nate heard her say, “Now, get me one more body. Try that guy from the Sprite commercial.” Click.

Nate couldn’t believe what had just happened. Had Shawn just told him she needed him to be ready in fifteen minutes? Was he actually getting dressed to go downstairs and be picked up?

Nate was standing in front of the hotel wearing a pair of loose-fitting black linen slacks. He had a Versace T-shirt on and a linen blazer draped over his shoulder. He was looking the role of New York fashion model when a white Cadillac DTS pulled up to the curb in front of him. A white guy got out and stood with the door still open.

“You Nate?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’m Gus,” he said, nodding his head approvingly. “Not bad. Hop in.”

Not bad. What the hell?
Nate thought, as he hopped in. They drove off and headed away from Midtown.

“We’ve got to run down to the Village for a quick second and pick someone else up. Here’s the deal.” Gus started with a bunch of producer talk. He was under the impression that Nate had done this before. Gus went on and on, talking about lighting, angle shots, and crowd control. By the time they reached their destination, where another brother walked out of a building, Gus had filled Nate’s head with so much mumbo-jumbo he didn’t know which way was up, let alone what he was supposed to do next.

They wound up at a studio off Forty-second Street near Times Square. The guy in the back seat was quiet the whole way, listening to an MP3 player. As the three entered the building, a bum walked up to them asking for change. It was then that Nate realized that he didn’t have any money or ID on him. “Well, piss on you too,” the bum yelled when they walked into the building without giving him anything.

The elevator stopped on the third floor, and as soon as they got off there were two sets of double doors. A girl with a headset on was seated at a desk in front of a wall. Just beyond the wall Nate could see that the entire floor was like a warehouse.

A woman who had been talking to a couple of people near a plate-glass window headed over toward Gus, Nate, and the other guy.

“Well, it’s about time,” she said. “Hello, you must be Nate, and you’re Damien, right?”

Nate nodded and Damien said, “Yes, ma’am.”

“You do look young, Damien, but Trish says that you can dance. How old are you?”

“Seventeen, ma’am,” Damien said.

“Oh, stop it with the ‘ma’am’ stuff already. Show me what you got.”

“Well, I need to warm up first, and change, if you don’t mind.”

Shawn smiled. “Oh, but of course.”

“Did the permits and guarantees come while I was gone?” Gus asked.

“They’re on the table over there,” Shawn said, and Gus marched off, directing Damien to a corner where a mat was laid out.

“Come with me,” Shawn said, smiling, and she took Nate by the hand. “Nice,” she mumbled.

“Nice too,” Nate said with a smile, as he looked Shawn up and down while bobbing his head.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.” Shawn was still grinning. She took him over and introduced him to Trish, whom Nate recognized from the party at Amir’s house the previous fall. Trish had been with Sahleen the night he had met her. Trish’s hair was different now, though. It was still extremely long but was a little more tame. It looked almost wet.

Trish was a director. She had worked with Sahleen on hundreds of shoots and was a favorite in the fashion industry. She had consulted on videos for Kenny Lattimore, Eve, and Christina Aguilera the previous year. Now she was sought after for music videos in every genre. While Sony insisted on Excite World and Gus for the production, Shawn demanded Trish direct. The rest was history, because everybody knew that what Shawn Simmons wanted, Shawn Simmons got.

Trish was now schooling Nate on what he would have to do. Within seconds Nate had his shirt off and his upper body oiled up. The staff was trying to see what degree of lighting was going to accent him the best. It had been explained to him that he would play Shawn’s lover in the video, which was for the song “One Too Many Lovers.” It was her title track. It was a medium tempo track that had been remixed by Bad Boy. P. Diddy had already shot his portion of the video. He only had a cameo as Shawn’s brother, where he warned her that her exploits with too many lovers would catch up to her.

Trish also had Nate trying on different outfits, silk pajamas and robes. While clad in a brown silk robe and silk leopard-print boxers, Trish had Nate walk around the corner to a set. There were three sets of bedrooms side by side. The first one had a canopy with a sheer drape on it. Off to the left of that was one with a brass bed, and the third was an extravagant ivory bedroom suite with a screen behind it showing a video of a waterfall. Each set was decorated to the tee, and looking at them it would be hard to tell that they weren’t rooms in someone’s home.

Trish had just finished giving Nate his final instructions when Nate asked, “Do they know that I have never done any modeling or acting before. I mean…I really don’t want to waste their time.”

Trish took her pencil out of her mouth and stuck it in her hair. “Look. It’s a little late now, and it doesn’t really matter. I’ve taken people off the street and had them in a video within an hour. It’s not hard. You don’t even have to say any lines. Let’s see…” Trish looked at a clipboard. “All you have to do is walk hand in hand in Times Square with Shawn.” Nate was hearing her but at the same time he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was never one to get star struck, but the one and only Shawn Simmons…Trish continued, “no, the museum scene is with Andrew.” She was mumbling. “Da, da, da…Okay. You have to go out to the Hamptons either tomorrow or Sunday and do a scene where you greet her at the door of a mansion and have a romantic dinner. You also have to roll around in the sack with her. One of these three…I haven’t decided which one yet.”