Commitment (54 page)

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Authors: Nia Forrester

BOOK: Commitment
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“What’s there to
get twisted?
You
think I belong to you.”

“Yes . . .”


Belong
to you?

Shawn could see she was trying desperately to
get
him
to seize this
chance to recant, but he wouldn’t do it. He
did
think she belonged to him, and there was no point pretending differently.

“Yes.

Riley
’s face crumpled in defeat.

Maybe the next time I wear a see-through top you
should
just brand your name across my back
,” she said dully.

That way everyone will know I’m
yours
.”


Riley
, c’mon
. . .”

“You’d better go
before you miss your flight
,” she said.

Brendan’s waiting
.

She turned and walked back into the
ir
bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Shawn glanced desperately at the
time
,
and then at the bedroom door.
He had to go if he
wanted
to make his flight.
He
stood there
,
hand on the doorknob,
then
changed hi
s mind.
He w
ould call her later
and
tell her then what she hadn’t allowed
him to say.
That
h
e belonged to her
,
too. 

 

g

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

“‘K
Smooth
replenished his waning
street cred when he delivered
. . .’”


What
?” Shawn sat up midsentence. “Read that part again.”

“‘K
Smooth
replenished his waning street cred when he delivered an old-school beat-down to
the
braggadocious
Cameron Cole
.
A
t his own crib, no less.
Cole has long antagonized fellow rappers by his dismissive . . .’”

“I don’t care about
that part
,” Shawn said.
“I want to know what the fuck they
mean by ‘waning street cred’.
That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Too bad it made the trades
.
Riley
is going to . . .”

“She’s already mad,” Shawn said
dismissively
.
“Who wrote that shit?

“Darnell Parker.”

“Wait till I see his ass,” Shawn said between his teeth.

“You gon’ break his jaw too?” Brendan asked without looking up from the paper.

“You sound like
Riley
,” Shawn said, disgusted. “Nobody’s jaw got broken.”

“Close to i
t.
That first punch, you straight cold-cocked his ass
.

“He shoulda known better.
Nex
t time, I
will
break that mo’fucka.

It didn’t matter what anyone said,
he would do it exactly the same way again if given a chance
.
Riley
still
wasn’t returning his calls
, so admittedly that was a drawback; but it
was the only one he could see.
By now, she’
d probably heard from the amen-
chorus of her mother and Tracy, telling her that he was some kind of savage to have gott
en into a fight b
ut o
ne of the benefits of being married
was
he
d
idn’t have to fear her silence.
T
hey would make up sooner or late
r; he just had to w
ait her out.
And that would be decidedly easier to do
since
he was away and working eighteen-hour days.


Call Darnell up,”
Shawn said.

Tell him I want to talk to him.
I want to find out what this

waning street cred

shit
is all about.”

“Shawn, that’s just some
crap
he
made
up to make
his
shit sound more interesting.”

“Maybe.
I still want to check it out.”

Brendan shrugged.
“A’ight.
But it’s a waste of time.”

Darnell Parker worked out of Atlanta, so an in-person meeting wasn’t in the cards, but Brendan arranged a conference call
for early the next morning.
Shawn and Brendan
called
him
on three-way
while
they waited
for a stylist to show up with some new outfits for an appearance later on. 

“So I’m guessing you’re not happy about my story,” Darnell drawled.

“Why don’t
you tell me what
the hell you meant by that shit
?”

There was a brief silence.
“I thought you were
talking
about
the fight.
What’re
you
talking about?”

“‘Waning street cred’.” Shawn said
flatly
.

It took
Darnell
a moment to recognize the phrase then he let out a short laugh
.
“Oh come on.”

“Darnell, you better h
ave something,” Brendan warned.
“If you tell us that was just some shit you
wrote
because it sounded good on paper, we might have to get upset.”

“Okay, fi
ne,” Darnell said, sobering up.
“I was referring to the last CD.”

Sha
wn and Brendan exchanged looks.
The
last one was Shawn’s favorite.
It was the first time he’d felt like he’d produced something tha
t was almost purely his vision.
Every beat, every hook, he had input on.

“What about the last CD?”

“Loo
k, you read the reviews.
You know the word.
The beats are soli
d, but it’s preachy.
People don’t like that ol’
KRS-O
ne shit no
more,
Smooth
.
You
should
know that.
Young ‘uns out there want you to relate to them, not
heap
on the
judgment.”

“You feel like it’s judgmental?”

“L
ook,
you’re still number three
on the charts
, right?
So who gives a shit what I think?”

“The people who read that
mess
you write,” Shawn said.


Smooth
, I
’ve
been giving you good press for
years
.
I ain’t never heard
from you
not
one time offering me no
thin’. I mean would it kill you to tell me you was getting married?”

“Is that what this is about?” Brendan sa
id.
“Because if it is, Darne
ll, I’ma have you up as a petty-
ass
nigga
.”

“You know b
etter than that,” Darnell said.
“But your
public relations is shitty.
Lemme just put that out there.
You were on
Newsweek
last yea
r and that’s all well and good.
And
then
you did that intellectual magazine your wife wr
ites for, and that’s cool too.
But
y’know what?
You’re alienating your base with that mainstream shit.”


Power to the People
is not mainstream,” Brendan argued.

“It is to the hip-
hop generation.
That’s as
M
om-and-apple-pie as
Ebony
, as far as they’re concerned.
So
get yourself a new publicist,
Smooth
.
That’s my advice to you.
And the other piece of advice I got is, give me an interview.
Give
Vibe
an interview.
Shoot
a pictorial of you in the most fucked-up neighborhood in
the
Bronx or some damn thing . . .” Darnell trailed off.

Shawn looked at Brendan.
Darnell had a point.
They both knew he did
.

“A’ight, Darnell,” Shawn said, feignin
g boredom.
“You ain’t got shit to say as usual.”

Darnell laughed.

Smooth
, you know you
’re my boy but you got to step your game up
, kid
.
If you
want to do something, just holler
at
me and I’ll
get you a feature.
You still got that pull.
For
now.”

Shawn threw the phone across the room where it
exploded
into pieces against the
wall.

 

g

 

No one would believe it, but i
t had never been about the
money or even the fame
for him.
When he thought about the days before he had hits on the radio and record-breaking CD sales, all Shawn remembered was that he wanted to be heard; feeling like he had something to say
and no one was listening.
And when they finally did listen, the money and the crowds and the VIP treatment were all extra
s
;
the
biggest pay-off
was, and remained, having
a voice that mattered.
Now Darnell
was telling
him that before long, his voice
might
not matter so much after all.

Tomorrow was the first Houston show and
just that one conversation had
rocked
his confidence.
W
hen Brendan asked if he wanted to check out some clubs,
Shawn
passed and instead
stayed back in
the hotel.
It only took a couple of hours for the silence to drive him crazy so he picked up the phone.

It was late and
Riley
was already in
bed, sounding a little drowsy.
Still, she had picked up so that was something.

“So you still
mad
about
Cameron’s
party
?”
he asked.

“No,” she
said
.
“I
don’
t like fighting with you
when you’
re away.
We’ll fight about it when you get back.

Shawn
smiled
.
“Deal.”

“You don’t sound like yourself.
What’s going on?”

“Just bullshit.
I’ll
tell you when I get home.”

“Will you?” she asked
, her voice hoarse
.

I wish I believed
it,” she observed, almost to herself.

She was obviously tired and
,
no matter what she said, still a little pissed off because under normal circumstances, she ne
ver would’ve let that slip out.
Between them, Riley was the one who always exercised restraint and kept things level. If there was ever a night when he needed her to
keep things level, this was it.
He wouldn’t have cared if she didn’t talk at all - it would have been enough to listen to her breathing on the other end of the line
and that would have calmed him
.

Sh
awn opened the blinds and sat on the desk with his legs propped against the windowsill, looking out across the city. Hotel Derek was one of the most exclusive in the city with
suites
that
look
ed more
like modern studio apartments.
This was what people dreamed about when they
imagined what it was like to be
wealthy – views
like this,
in every city they visited, the
entire
world stretched out
at their feet.


What’re you thinking?

Riley asked on the other end of the line
.

“Nothing.”

“Well I’m tired, Shawn.
I don’t know if I can sit here
while you think about nothing.
I have work tomorrow.”

Definitely still pissed.


Are you there?” she demanded.

“Yeah, I’m here.
I’m just trying to figure out what the fuck your problem is,” he said.


The problem,
Shawn,
is that
I’m
not
your employee, and for
that matter
not your possession,” she said
.

So I need a little more give and take
.”

“What are
you
talking about now?” he said, exasperated.

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