Pretty Girls in the Vip (9781617730283) (10 page)

I
sat on the bed and watched television. I needed to figure out what my next move was going to be. I needed to get to some money, but I was done with meeting people through Courtney. I did not want to get shot at again, and fucking old men was over, too. What would be next, getting kidnapped and tortured? I don't think so. My actions were about to change, they had to. This cramped apartment was making me miserable. Aunt Rhonda's aching and whining was making my ears and body hurt. Feeling hungry, I walked into the kitchen. Aunt Rhonda was sitting at the table separating her pills and placing them in a plastic container that had compartments for every day of the week.

“Aunt Rhonda, you going to make dinner?”

“No, I'm not cooking for you. You and Courtney are both trifling. You're almost twenty-five, and you're standing around waiting for someone to cook for you.”

“I'm not trifling, and I'm only twenty-three. Every time you ask me for some money, I give it to you, don't I? Maybe you should use the money we give you and buy some real food instead of noodles and microwave stuff,” I yelled, walking out the door and slamming it behind me.

I walked to the Puerto Rican corner store called Papi's to get a cheesesteak and fries. I needed my life to change, and now. I called my old head Tone while I was on my way to buy my platter. Tone was someone I used to deal with. He always looked out. He always got some kind of hustle and a way to get money. He has a girlfriend, but when I call him he drops everything. He's ugly and his dick is little, so that's why I can't really be bothered with him. Before he said hello, I said, “Tone, I need some money.”

“What's up? How are you today, Shanice?” he said with a smile in his voice, trying to be smart.

“I'm fine, thanks for asking, but I need some money, Tone.” I waited for him to talk but there was a long silence. I said hello again and then he said, “It's nice of you to call me, Shanice.”

“Tone, come on, stop playing. I'm serious, I need some money. If you can't give me any, then tell me how I can get some.”

“I can get you plenty if you let me put you on the track.”

“What do I look like, going on the damn track? I'm not hoeing for you.”

“I was only joking. What's up, Shanice?”

“I'm not joking. I need to get some money for real. I'm trying to move. I'm tired of living with my aunt and cousin.”

“Be with me then, I'll put you up somewhere nice.” I frowned when he said that. No way I'd be laying up with him on a regular basis.

“All right, never mind. You playing too much. I'll talk to you later. Bye, Tone.”

“All right, seriously, you can bust a script for me and I'll give you two hundred.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

I met Tone around the corner from the Rite Aid pharmacy. He handed me the prescription and someone named Edna Fenilli's prescription card. I got in the car so he could explain everything he needed me to do.

“All you have to do is go in and say, ‘I'm dropping this off for my mom.' They going to fill it and you going to walk out.”

“So, you going to give me two hundred dollars just to do this?”

“Yeah, I'm giving it to you to just handle that.”

“All right, what kind of pills am I getting?”

“They Xanax and oxycontin. They go for like twenty a pop on the street.”

I had heard of Zaneys but not the other pill.

“All right, I'll be right back.” I jumped out of the car and walked into the pharmacy with the prescription. I handed the small piece of paper to the young, Indian-looking woman pharmacist and told her I was dropping it off for my mom. I hoped she couldn't tell it wasn't real. She looked down at the prescription, then back at me. Maybe she was trying to see if I looked like my name could be Fenilli. She looked down at the paper again, scribbled something, and then typed into the computer.

“What's the date of birth?”

“Mine?”

“No, your mom's date of birth.”

“Oh, I don't know. My mom always be lying about her age,” I said and smiled innocently. The pharmacist cracked a slight smile and told me not to worry. She looked it up in the computer and then told me I could return in a half hour for pickup.

 

Great—I had to sit in the car with Tone's ass for thirty minutes. All he was going to talk about was how I needed to be with him. When I got back in the car, I noticed he already had a bunch of pills and containers and baggies in the backseat.

“You better cover those pills up before a cop rides past.”

“You right.” He covered all of the drugs and then he said, “So, what's been up with you?”

“Nothing, trying to get a real job or something.”

“A real job doing what?”

“I don't know, something like working downtown somewhere.”

“That sounds good and all, but really working for what . . . minimum wage? Like eight dollars an hour times forty? That's not no bread. That's only like three hundred a week. You can just get with the right bull, he can give you more than that a week.”

“Naw, getting with the right bull comes with a lotta bullshit, though.” I laughed. In the middle of our debate Courtney texted me. She asked what I was doing and when I would be home. I texted her back, telling her about the little scheme I had going with Tone, and then she got me scared.

Girl you can get time for dat. Don't do it.

I texted her back: 4 REAL?

Yeah its major. Tell Tone to go fuck himself.

Now that Courtney warned me that the small thing I was doing was a big crime, I was scared to go in and pick up what I had dropped off.

“Tone, what you got me into? My cousin just said this shit is heavy. I'm not trying to go to jail.”

“Shut up, you not going to jail. They can't call and check up on every prescription. That's why we went after five anyway. The doctor's office is closed. They only fuck with people that look like fiends. You look normal, so you cool.”

“Yo, if I get locked up,” I said, shaking my head as I got out the car.

“If you get locked up, you don't know me. I'll bail you out, but don't say my name,” Tone warned me.

“I know that. I'm not no snitch. I'll be right back.” I had already dropped it off, so I figured I might as well finish what I started. I walked back in the pharmacy feeling nervous. I wondered if she had called the cops on me and was thinking I was about to be arrested. I looked up and down the aisles to make sure no cops were behind me waiting to cuff me. I reached the counter and stood in the now crowded area of customers. The pharmacist that had helped me before was in the back counting pills. A short Asian guy with glasses came to assist me. He asked me if I was there to drop off or pick up.

“I'm picking up my mom's prescription. The last name is Fenilli,” I answered nervously. He looked in the basket beginning with
F
. I could tell he wasn't really paying attention. He was just trying to get rid of all the people waiting. He asked me to sign a small screen computer and moved on to the next person. I took the bag and nervously walk-ran out the store. I looked all around me to make sure no one was following me. They weren't. I gave Tone the containers of pills and he gave me two hundred dollars. There had to be an easier way to make money.

W
hen Asia was home, she gave the condo a whole other vibe. I would miss out on my morning runs and eating right. All my time went into chasing her around and eating French fries with her. She spilled her sippy cup, wrote on my love seat with pink crayons, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. I love my baby girl. She was watching her favorite show,
Max and Ruby
, while I cleaned up the condo a little. Ian came out into the kitchen and greeted us. He was getting ready to leave out. He said good morning to Asia and she smiled and asked him to have a seat with her and watch television. He said maybe next time. I stood up, kissed him, and told him to have a good day.

Ian and I've been together over a year, and he still hasn't connected with Asia. It doesn't bother me as much as it used to, because it is not her personally, he's just weird-acting sometimes. For some reason, she made him a little uncomfortable. When we first started dating and I told him I had a daughter, he was surprised and said he wasn't ready to be a stepdad. I laughed and assured him she had a daddy and I wasn't looking for another one for her, but I think he still is afraid of getting too close to her.

While Asia watched her shows, I closed my eyes on the sofa and thought about what I was going to do with my life. I had paid my bills yesterday and I hated to see a chunk of money being taken away from my checking account when I didn't know how I was going to put it back. I was still thinking about my club idea, but Ian's cousin made it seem impossible. Maybe I would just try something else like a clothing store. That would be easy. Or maybe I could sell clothes for little girls.

“Asia, girl, what are we going to do today? I think we should go to the park. Would you like that?”

“Mommy, sit. Let's play baby. Here.” She put the bald-headed doll in my arms and made me rock her. I rocked the baby doll back and forth a couple of times and then laid her on the sofa.

“Okay, Asia girl, Mommy doesn't want to play baby doll anymore. The baby is tired. Let's get dressed and go to the park.” I walked into Asia's sparsely furnished room. I needed to do something with it because it lacked color and decoration. It wasn't anything like her pretty room back home that was filled with purple unicorns and rainbows.

I readied Asia and myself for the park. Just as I put on Asia's sandals, Ian came back in and asked, “Where are you going?”

“To the park. Why are you back so early?” Before I could speak, he picked me up and swung me around, then bent me back, gave me a deep, long kiss, and said, “I love you, Adrienne Sheppard.”

“What's going on? Why are you so excited?”

“I have great news. That production company in California I've been going back and forth with? They called me. They read my script and they're interested. They want to buy
Falcon Hall Boys
.”

“They do, oh my God, congratulations, Ian, this is great!” I jumped up and down and gave him another hug. We were making so much noise we scared Asia. Ian picked her up and kissed her on her cheek, and said, “It's okay, Asia, we are just happy.” He then patted her back to calm her.

“So, what happened? When did you speak with them?”

“The producer called as soon as I left out, and we were on the phone for an hour. He read my script a few times and passed it on to his partner. She loved it and they want to make the movie and get it to theaters. I could tell he really read it because he was talking about how much he loved Derrick's character and struggle.”

“Baby, I am so happy for you. This is so big.”

“I know.”

Falcon Hall Boys
was Ian's baby. He wrote the screenplay while he was in college. The script was based on his freshman-year experience. Ian and all the other freshmen in his dorm made the promise of not dropping out of college, no matter what. There were fourteen of them when they began, but only six of them graduated. It was really a good script. It detailed everything each Falcon boy had to face on and off campus to get their degree.

“So, what happens next? Are they coming here, or are you going there?”

“They want me to fly out to L.A. by Friday. I didn't even look into the flights yet. Adrienne, I want you to go with me. I need my lady by my side for my big deal.” He put Asia down and began to walk toward my laptop.

“Okay, I'll book our flights. I'll go to Philly and drop Asia off at my mom's. She wanted to see her anyway, and then I'll meet you there.”

“Babe, this is our beginning.”

“Yes, our beginning. I'm so proud of you, Ian.”

 

Asia was in Philly with my mom, and I was on my way to the City of Angels. I like L.A.; it has all the movie stars and warm weather, but every time I'm there I feel like I didn't get to experience everything. It was probably because I was always drained from the five-hour flight and everything being so far apart.

 

The plan was that after I landed, I was to go to the hotel to change and then we would go to his meeting. Instead, Ian was at the hotel waiting for me. My flight sat on the tarp for an extra hour. They had to find a gate for us to park in. I called him, apologizing.

“I don't want to be late for my meeting. I know you can't help that the plane is running late, but I—”

“If you have to, you can go without me to the meeting. That's fine. Maybe I'll meet you there.”

“No, what I'll do is just come straight to the airport and you can change in the car.”

“Okay, I'll do that.”

 

As soon as they opened the doors of the plane, I pushed my way off and ran to the baggage claim gate. Ian was right there, and we drove straight to his meeting with the film company.

“Baby, I'm so sorry. That stupid flight.” I threw my luggage in the back seat of the Ford Taurus rental car and began changing my clothes.

“It is not your fault. You are here now, let's just get there. Can you look up the directions on the phone? I want to make sure we are taking the quickest way. The guy at the hotel gave me directions that are saying to take the 405.”

I typed the address of the restaurant into the GPS system. And it gave different directions.

“Ian, it says to take La Cienega Boulevard and we will be there in twenty-two minutes.”

 

We pulled up to Spago in Beverly Hills with five minutes to spare. We entered the restaurant, and the hostess walked us to the table of Sydney Harris. She stood up and greeted us. She was in her early thirties and had a blond bush. She was wearing tights and stilettos with a T-shirt exposing her flat stomach and pierced navel. Also at the table was an older black college-professor-type guy. He introduced himself as her partner, and his name was Arthur Harrington. They both had cocktails in front of them that looked like they hadn't been touched. I was usually a good judge of what people were thinking, but with them all I read was kooky. They didn't look rich or poor, and their serious expressions never changed. After our introductions, I sat quietly while they discussed the script. My only job was to be there for support and to be the pretty, attentive girlfriend.

Sydney and Arthur owned the production company Black Ground Productions. They had a lot of films that went straight to DVD, but they had branched off to limited theater releases. They were good at what they did, and I hoped they gave Ian the opportunity he deserved.

“So, we are very interested in your script. We loved it, we want to see it on the screen, and we think it is going to be a hit,” Sydney gushed.

Arthur took over and said, “We are really excited about this project. And we like just about everything. However, there are a few things we would like to change about the script. We want you to meet with our screenwriter and tweak a few things.”

“Change? Tweak? What type of things are you talking about?”

“Don't worry. Nothing big. Simple things,” Sydney said.

“I think my script is damn near perfect. Everyone that has read my script loves it just the way it is. So I'm not interested in changing anything, really,” Ian said. Which surprised me. He was acting kind of rude to people who wanted to help him fulfill his dream.

“We just want to make the script more commercial. The message itself is wonderful, but we need to maybe add a Hispanic and a white Falcon brother. And the college doesn't have to be a historically black college. They can attend a college in a small town, which makes their bond stronger.”

“You are talking about changing the most important part of the script. You want me to change who they are and what they represent. I thank you both for your time and this meeting, but no thank you.” Ian surprised me again and shot up abruptly from the table, leaving me behind. They both looked at me like I had an answer for why he was so upset.

“Maybe he'll reconsider. Thank you for your time and consideration. I'll talk to him,” I said and thanked them again. I couldn't believe we had flown across the country for a ten-minute meeting.

I caught up with Ian outside the restaurant. He was already on his phone.

“Ian, that was so rude. You could have at least finished hearing what they had to say. You don't even know how much they were willing to offer you.”

“I don't care. I'll finance my own movie before I give creative control to anyone. That's an insult. They want to hire a screenwriter to help change my script? The script that I wrote? No, that's not happening.”

“But maybe you could have compromised on some things, letting them have this movie to have more control on your next project.”

“Why would I do that? The first movie sets the precedent, Adrienne. How about if there isn't a second movie? I have to make my first movie my best movie.”

“If that's the way you feel, just wait for someone else to come along and buy it, then. I don't know about the movie industry. You do.”

“You're right, I do. Do you know how long people with great scripts wait to go to film? Sometimes forever. I'm not sitting around waiting for someone to come and do my film. Forget that. I'll make my own movies. I'll get the funding.”

 

Ian didn't talk to me during the drive back downtown to our hotel. He was talking out loud while he tried to figure things out for himself.

We entered our room at the Omni Hotel, and I sat on the bed while Ian took a long shower. I just assumed that Ian was going to be upset about the results of the meeting, but he wasn't. He came out the shower renewed, talking on his cell with the towel wrapped around his waist. I kept hearing him say, “Okay, yeah, exactly,” and I heard him mention his cousin Keldrick's name a few times. Instead of being devastated, it was like the disastrous meeting just gave him a boost to move forward. He asked Keldrick if he knew of anyone that might be interested in investing in his film.

He finally hung up and said, “I talked to Keldrick and he said he can find me some investors and we are going to make
Falcon Hall Boys
ourselves. We are going to go the film festival route. And we can premiere it at all of the festivals and then get distribution.”

“That's good, Ian. That sounds like a plan. I want to open my club, too. Do you think your cousin can get those investors he said he had for me still for my club? Think about it. If we had our own club, you could film your movies. But we can also charge artists to shoot videos in the club. It would be perfect. If your cousin can't get investors for my club, I think I'm just going to use my own money.”

“Well, Adrienne, you can invest in my movie. And then we can sell the movie and open the club.”

“No, I'm going to open my club first, then maybe I can invest the proceeds from the club into helping you with your movie. The movie can flop, but the club is a sure thing and can bring in money on a weekly and monthly basis.”

“Yeah, we'll open the club first, and then I'll get investors for the movie. We are going to make it happen.”

Ian and I spent the rest of the weekend making love and mapping out how he was going to get his film funded and how I was going to open my club. We arrived in L.A. with one set of expectations, and we left with new business plans and visions. We were about to be a power couple. Team Us!