Real As It Gets (6 page)

I
had to give it to my cousin. He'd done good.

I watched Sammy bob his head to the sounds of the artist coming from the booth. We were inside a small studio in West Miami.

“That sounds good, man, but we need to try it again,” Sammy said, leaning and speaking into the microphone. “I know you can give me better than that.”

The guy in the booth frowned, and looked like he had an attitude. Personally, I thought it was a little disrespectful, but I didn't want to get all up in Sammy's business.

“So from the top, one more time,” Sammy said. “And this time, act like you're a multimillion-dollar rapper.”

The guy shook his head like he was irritated, but he went back to rapping while the melodic beats filled the studio.

I sat in the back and watched Sammy work his magic. I was so happy he'd let me come into the studio and watch him work. I knew my share of people, but I had never gotten up close and personal and watched music being created.

After a few more minutes, Sammy said, “All right, Jax, good job. I'm gonna jet with my girl. Y'all take it from here.”

Once outside the studio, I hugged him. “Thank you for letting me get a glimpse inside your life. I'll have to have you come down to the station sometime.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Sammy pushed the elevator down button. “But now, you see what I do. A lot of my artists are doing the underground circuit. I have one artist who is about to sign a major deal.”

“Have you written anything I've ever heard of?” I asked as we got on the elevator.

“You ever heard of ‘All Gold Everything' by Trinidad James?”

I turned and looked at him. “Oh my God, who hasn't heard of that?”

Sammy smiled coyly. “Yeah, yours truly penned that.”

“Are you freakin' kidding me?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but me and Trinidad ended up falling out. He tried to get over on me, and I ended up having to take him to court. He retained the rights, but I got my money.”

“I know that's right, and at the end of the day, that's all that matters. You can go write some more songs.”

He took my hand and led me off the elevator. We had just stepped outside the building when a scrappy-looking guy came up to us. He looked like he had stepped straight out of a crackhead movie.

“Yo, Sam, my man, what's up?”

Sammy stopped and looked at him in horror. Sammy didn't speak as he put his arm around my waist and shuttled me off.

“Come on, man, don't be like that,” the guy said, following us. “I need to holla at you.”

Sammy stopped and turned to face the guy, making sure to shield me in the back of him. “Dude, I done told you about coming around, following me.”

“I wasn't following you. I swear. And I need—”

“Now ain't the time,” Sammy said cutting him off.

“It ain't never the time for you, now that you all big time. But I was there from the beginning, when you was just—”

Sammy stepped to him again. “I'm gonna tell you for the last time, you need to keep it movin'.”

I was watching in shock. I couldn't believe he actually knew this dope fiend.

“Oh, it's like that now? It's like that? You trying to show off in front of your gal?” He eyed my Fendi purse. “Hey, how much that purse worth?”

I swallowed hard as I pulled my purse close to my chest.

Sammy pushed the guy, hard. “Man, I will beat the—”

“Okay, okay. I was just joking.” It was then that I noticed his yellowing teeth. He had to be one of the most repulsive-looking men I'd ever seen. “Come on, man, just hook me up.”

“I told you to forget you know me. I told you to never, ever, ever step to me again,” Sammy warned.

“You ... you the reason I'm like this!” the guy cried, pulling at Sammy's jacket.

Sammy grabbed him by the throat and pushed him up against the wall. “I told you to back off. You of all people know what I'm capable of.”

The guy's legs flailed as he tried to break free.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he cried.

As soon as Sammy released him, he took off running as fast as he could.

“Oh my God,” I said once he was gone. “What was that about?”

Sammy watched him dart through traffic, nearly getting hit twice.

“That's my uncle,” Sammy finally said.

“What?”

“Yeah.” Sammy sounded so sad. “As you can see, he's kind of strung out.”

We stared in the direction his uncle had disappeared. “He said you made him like that. Why does he blame you?”

Sammy shrugged. “Because he wanted me to give him the money for rehab and I wouldn't do it.”

“Why not?”

“Because he wouldn't let me take him to rehab. He just wanted me to give him the money, which means he just wanted to smoke it up.” Sammy shook his head pitifully.

“Dang, I'm sorry to hear that,” I said.

He took a deep breath, then turned toward me, forcing a smile.

“Look, I don't want this to ruin our night,” Sammy said. “I told him until he's ready to get clean, I couldn't do anything more for him. And I meant that. But let's not talk about my junkie uncle. Tonight is all about enjoying ourselves. Having a good time.”

He removed a strand of hair out of my face. I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he just smiled and said, “Let's go. I have another wonderful night planned for us.”

I couldn't help but smile. All of our nights had been wonderful. I was the luckiest girl in the world. But don't get it twisted—Sammy was pretty lucky, too.

T
oday had been one of those days I couldn't wait to end. It had been absolute chaos at work and school today, and I was just looking forward to getting home.

I pulled into our circular driveway and was shocked to see a Porsche. That car looked familiar, but I couldn't remember from where. My dad had gotten Travis a car—a 2010 Camaro, which was parked right next to the Porsche. I pulled up behind Travis's car, then made my way inside.

“Travis,” I called out as I walked into the living room. “Whose car ... ?”

I stopped in my tracks when him and Angel jumped apart.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered. My eyes went from him, to her, and back to him. She quickly started buttoning her shirt back up. What was this skank doing on my sofa?

“Really, Travis?” I said.

“Hey, Maya. It isn't even like that.”

“What is it like, then, Travis?” My mind immediately went to Sheridan and how just minutes ago, she had been gushing about him and how he was the best thing since sliced bread. This was exactly why I hadn't wanted them to hook up. A playa never changed his spots.

“Hey, Maya,” Angel said.

I didn't bother speaking to her. “Travis, can I talk to you?” I said.

“Maya ...”

“Travis . . .”

He groaned, then turned to Angel and said, “I'll be right back.”

I stomped in the kitchen and waited on him. As soon as he walked in, I started in. “Really, Travis?”

He frowned at me, acting irritated like I was the one who'd just gotten busted. “Why are you trippin'? Dang. You worse than my moms.”

“Why are you sitting up in the living room getting it on with Angel?” I jabbed my hand toward the living room. “Got her in there infecting up our furniture. You know she's the biggest tramp at school.”

“Me and Angel are just friends.”

“I can't tell.”

“Dang, stop trippin' so much.” He headed back toward the door.

“What about Sheridan, Travis? Did you forget about her?”

That made him stop and he spun back toward me. “What about her?”

“I thought you guys were supposed to be together.”

“We are.” He actually said that with a straight face. Dog.

I pointed to the living room again. “Obviously not if you're sitting up making out with this skank.”

“I told you me and Angel are just hanging out.”

“Does Sheridan know?”

He glared at me, and that answered my question.

“See, this is that mess I was talking about. This is the drama I didn't want to find myself in the middle of.”

“Then don't get in the middle of it,” he said. “Mind your business.”

I didn't back down. “When a dude gets to messing over my best friend, it is my business.”

“Even if that dude is family?”

“Yeah, even if that dude is family.”

We stood facing off for a few seconds. Then finally, he relaxed and said, “Maya, it's like you said—you got your life and I got mine. So just stay out of it. Me and Sheridan are just kickin' it. She knows what's up.” With that, he turned and walked out of the kitchen.

Ugh, he made me sick. I stomped into the bathroom. My first thought was to call Sheridan and tell her to get her behind over here. But that would lead to more drama. Nah, I was just gonna leave it alone. For now.

“
S
o, when do I get to meet this new man?” Kennedi stretched out across my bed and examined her sandstone-painted nails. Ming, my nail technician, and her crew had just left and, as usual, had done a fabulous job on our nails and feet.

“You will. I wish you could meet him tonight, but he's out of town,” I replied as I held up my fifth outfit, trying to decide what to wear to the party tonight.

It was All-Star weekend and Shaquille O'Neal was throwing a big bash. At first, I hadn't been feeling going to some old dude's party, but Sammy had sworn that Shaq threw some bomb parties, so he'd gotten me three VIP tickets because neither he nor Travis could go. Travis had gone home for the weekend and Sammy had had to go out of town with one of his artists. So, I had actually found myself getting excited about partying with my girls.

“Him and Travis are gone. Dang. I was looking forward to hanging with Travis,” she said. “But I definitely wanted to meet this dream man.”

She picked up my iPhone and looked at the picture I'd taken of him at the VIP reception. It was my screen saver and looked better than anything I could've even thought about downloading.

“Girl, this boy is super fine,” Kennedi said.

“Do I ever date anyone who isn't?” I laughed.

She tossed the phone back down. “I'm just trippin'. It's like I was just here a few weeks ago and you didn't even know this dude. Now, you're all in love.”

Kennedi and I had been friends since we were little. Our mothers had been friends for years. But she lived in Orlando now, so we didn't get to hang as much. Still, she had been there through every guy I'd ever dated—from my first boyfriend to my last. And she didn't hesitate to let me know what she thought of someone, so I was anxious to see what she thought. Sheridan had met Sammy when the three of us and Travis had gone out to dinner the night before. Of course, she'd liked him, but right about now, she was more concerned with making sure Sammy liked her since he was Travis's boy and all. I'd never seen Sheridan act so thirsty, and it was so not a good look. I'd also told Kennedi about Travis and Angel. She told me my first loyalty was to Travis, but I definitely knew that she was biased as far as that was concerned because she didn't care for Sheridan.

“So, where did this Sammy come from?” Kennedi asked. “I mean, I know Miami is big, but anyone who is anyone, we know. So he must not be anyone.” She sat up on the bed, being careful not to mess up her nails or toes.

“Oh, trust. He's someone. I'm telling you, it's like everybody knows him.” Just thinking about how well connected he was had me smiling.

“Where does he go to school?”

“He's out of school.”

That made Kennedi sit up some more. She loved her some older guys. “Oooh, is your mom gonna go for that?”

I shrugged as I decided on the outfit I had originally planned to wear. “It doesn't matter if my mom likes him or not, he's here to stay. But the way he'd dazzled her, she hadn't even bothered asking me about his age. She just wanted to know more details like who were “his people” and if I really liked him.”

Kennedi laughed. “That sounds just like your mom. So how old is he? When did he finish school?”

“He just graduated three years ago,” I said. “So he's not a whole lot older than me. He's twenty-one.”

“Where is he from?”

“What is this? Twenty questions?”

“Just answer the question.”

I laughed at my friend. “He's from here.”

“So he is from Miami?” She shook her head. “I just don't get it. Why haven't we ever met him? He must not be in the
in
-in-crowd.”

I smiled as I thought of the way Sammy worked the crowd at that VIP reception. I knew why girls swarmed around J. Love, but Sammy had guys
and
girls jocking his every move.

“Sammy's the type that makes his own crowd. Everywhere we go, someone knows him. It's wild.”

“Wow,” Kennedi said. “So what does he do?”

“He works as a record producer.”

“Doesn't everybody.” She rolled her eyes.

“No seriously, I went to his studio with him. He was straight runnin' things.” I leaned in the mirror at my vanity and dabbed some lip gloss on.

“I guess if he's getting love like that, he must be on some Diddy type of ish.”

I shrugged. I knew Sammy was low-key. He didn't like to talk a lot about his business. He said that the singers that he worked with didn't like him telling their business, which was probably why we hadn't heard of him.

Kennedi must've lost interest in the conversation because she said, “Anyway, what time are we heading out for the party?”

I shimmied into my skinny jeans, took one last glance in the mirror. “Perfection. So, yes, let's roll!”