The Company We Keep (17 page)

“Y
our ‘Morning Starr’ is going to face you from the skies over this great city of L.A. for the rest of the day. I will be back tomorrow morning at the same time, and I hope you will all join me again. Up next right after our news break is my favorite lady DJ, Sister Beverly Blue. God bless and remember, where you go, there you are. Peace and blessings.” Harrison brought up what had become his signature sign-off music, anything by Miles Davis.

He closed his mike as Beverly Blue entered the booth, huffing like a sumo wrestler. Why this woman chose to hide her pretty face behind a pair of saucerlike sunglasses all the time was a mystery to Harrison and everybody else. She had big, beautiful brown eyes. They went well with her nut brown complexion and her soft, attractive features. She also had a nice firm body that she usually hid somewhere within the folds of a voluminous, floor-length skirt and a baggy sweater like today. But she was the only female DJ at the station and she wanted to be admired for her ability, not her looks. Ironically, the men she worked with rarely tried to hit on her. Even though her friends had warned her to use every weapon she had at her disposal. If she had to get over, “use your booty and your beauty” she’d been told. But she didn’t have to flirt with or fuck anybody to get or keep her job. She was one of the most
dignified and straitlaced women Harrison knew. And he meant it when he referred to her as his favorite lady DJ.

“BB, my DJ,” Harrison greeted, kissing her gently on the lips. “Have you met Trevor Powell?”

Trevor, an artist who was the source of a lot of Teri Stewart’s recent frustrations, stood backed up against the wall in the booth. Trevor was a highly talented singer with millions of fans. He was also a man whose greatest love interest was himself. He and Harrison had been friends for several years, but a lot of people didn’t know that.

“Not in person, but I was at your last concert,” Beverly told Trevor, shaking his hand. “Only believe the good stuff that Harrison tells you about me,” she joked.

“So far it is all good,” Trevor told her, still holding on to her hand. When he started to squeeze it, she gently removed it.

Trevor, a month from his thirty-sixth birthday, was good looking and he knew it. He had known it all his life and had used his pretty-boy features to his advantage. He knew that a lot of women went for men like him with light brown skin and wavy black hair, even if the man was ugly. His brother Errol looked like a flying monkey, but women never looked past his high yellow skin and that head full of thick, wavy brown hair he possessed. Trevor knew that he didn’t have to do much to get a woman. Just looking good was enough, but being a major recording artist had earned him a spot on a pedestal that was so high he knew that if he ever fell off, he’d break every bone in his body. And if that didn’t do it, his long-suffering wife probably would. But as long as she kept her ass on the grounds of their lavish estate in Atlanta, raising their three sons like she was supposed to, he didn’t have anything to worry about. He also owned a townhouse in London. But the condo he owned in L.A. was where he could be found most of the time when he was not on tour.

Trevor and Harrison spent a lot of their quality time visiting inner-city schools speaking to the students, encouraging them to stay in school and avoid the gang activity that had become such a thorn in L.A. culture. Despite his reputation as a difficult, self-centered womanizer, Harrison counted Trevor among his most important friends.

Beverly loved Trevor’s music, a soft blend of reggae and jazz, and she knew that half of the women in L.A. would love to be standing where she was right now. They would have stripped down naked right in front of Trevor if he had asked them to. But she wouldn’t. Other than his music, which was some of the best, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do for her. She’d been in a serious relationship with the same man for four years, and so far the only other man in the industry that she would consider fucking was Diddy, Doody, Puffy, or whatever the hip-hop bigwig
Sean Combs
was calling himself these days. With other women and babies coming out of his ear, it was unlikely that a relationship between him and her would ever develop. Hell, she hadn’t even met the man in person yet. Anyway, she was happy with what she had in the meantime.

“Well, I guess I’ll hit it if you brothers don’t mind,” Beverly said, plopping down hard on the high chair that Harrison had just vacated. “How did you two meet?” she asked, looking from Harrison to Trevor.

“We met in London about five years ago,” Trevor told her.

“Is that right?” Beverly said, looking at Harrison. “You’ve known each other that long. Harrison never said a word…”

One thing Harrison didn’t do was exploit the relationships he had with a lot of well-known performers. Early in his career he had been bombarded with requests from friends and relatives for him to get autographed CDs and pictures, free concert tickets, and even dates for them. And he had tried to accommodate as many requests as he could. He did until the details of an after-hours liaison that he’d set up between a casual female friend and an up-and-coming rapper ended up on the Internet. That would have been bad enough, but it had included a video that she’d secretly taped with a hidden camera tucked into the folds of her cap—her sucking dick like it was going out of style. From that point on, Harrison was very closemouthed about the relationships he had with celebrities.

“Uh, I’d like to stay so you and Trevor could get better acquainted, but we’ve got to roll,” Harrison told Beverly with a wink. He knew from the way Trevor was looking at Beverly that he wanted to mount her right then and there. To avoid a potential nauseat
ing situation, Harrison ushered Trevor out of the booth and they went straight to the garage.

Harrison ignored the stares they received from the people entering or leaving the parking area. But Trevor loved it. He grinned and waved and would have done more if Harrison had not rushed him to his car.

“Say, brother. I heard you were dealing with Miss Teri Stewart over at Eclectic,” Harrison said, pulling out into traffic.

“Unfortunately,” Trevor said with a groan. He sniffed and adjusted the rearview mirror to check his hair. Then he had to make sure that nothing like a bacon bit or a sliver of bell pepper from the omelet he’d eaten for breakfast was stuck between his pearly white teeth. Satisfied with his flawless appearance, he let out a loud breath and reared back in his seat.

“Oh? You don’t get along with her?”

“Man, Jesus couldn’t get along with that woman for longer than a minute. She’s a bitch! Do you know how long me and my people have been trying to work out some minor details regarding my upcoming album cover? Shit!”

“I disagree with you, brother. I’ve heard some good things about Teri,” Harrison said defensively. “She’s very focused.”

“So was Idi Amin. What’s your point?”

“I like Teri. As a matter of fact, I like her a lot…if you know what I mean.” Harrison gave Trevor a mysterious wink.

“Come again?” Trevor said with a jaw-dropping gasp. “That woman is too stone cold for me, man. She could freeze a ball of fire into a block of ice with one of her mean-ass looks. I wouldn’t go near her without one of those flame-throwing gadgets. That’s what it’d take to thaw that heifer’s pussy out. I bet there’s an ice cube where her clit ought to be! I’d like to shake the hand of just one man who has even made it into her bed, bath, and beyond in the last five years.”

“Be my guest,” Harrison said. He began to steer with his left hand. Then he extended his right hand to Trevor.

T
revor whirled around and looked at Harrison’s outstretched hand, then his face. He stared at him for a few seconds with his mouth hanging open so wide that Harrison could see the wad of Dentyne parked on top of his back teeth. “You? Teri Stewart let
you
into her ‘no parking’ zone? No shit.” Trevor closed his mouth for a moment, then he guffawed in a way that reminded Harrison of a scene from the old movie
Francis the Talking Mule
. His friend, who was one of the most handsome men he knew, now looked like a laughing mule with his teeth bared and his tongue flapping like the soles on a pair of cheap shoes. Trevor slapped the dashboard so hard it made Harrison swerve. “You and Teri? Aw man, you have got to be kidding me!
Why?
”

“Why what?”

“Why would a man like you get involved with a woman like Teri? You can do a whole lot better. I’ve seen you do it.”

“Better? Better than what?” Harrison asked, glaring at his friend out of the corner of his eye. “What’s wrong with Teri?”

“Nothing is wrong with that sister if you’re a robot or Superman. I bet she’s got computer wires and telephone cords where her brain ought to be. Other than that, there is nothing wrong with Teri.” Trevor sniffed. “As a matter of fact, I like the woman. After all,
she is pretty
.”

“I guess you don’t know the Teri I know,” Harrison offered.

This gave Trevor something to think about. He wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes and gave Harrison a thoughtful look. “I guess I don’t, huh?”

“See, there’s a side to Teri that she doesn’t let too many people see, my man. Oh, she’s good at her job and she’s admired and respected by a lot of people, and she is pretty. But she’s also one of the most sensitive and passionate women I’ve ever met. She’s also funny, and witty, and a great conversationalist.”

A dumbfounded look crossed Trevor’s face. “What about all this other action I’ve seen you with lately? Like that former Miss Jamaica with a butt that would bring the pope to his knees? And that light-skinned sister from Frisco? Does Teri know about them?”

“Oh, Teri and I are not together anymore. I was with her about a year ago.”

Trevor looked amused again. But he suppressed his laughter this time by pressing his lips together and caressing his chin. “Oh? What happened? How come you are not with her now if she’s so sensitive and passionate and witty and all the rest of that shit?”

“That’s a good question. We started with a bang, but we both had so much going on in our lives at the time, we didn’t invest enough time and energy in our relationship. I’ve been trying to get back with her, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen.”

“Hell no,”
Trevor told him, putting so much emphasis on his words that it sounded as if he were speaking a foreign language.

“You don’t think so?”

“Well, I know for a fact that she and you have more going on in your lives now than ever before. If that was the reason you couldn’t make a relationship work in the first place, what makes you think you can do it this time? Get a grip, brother, and use your head for more than a hat rack.”

“I don’t think we were ready that other time,” Harrison admitted, defeat in his voice.

“But you’re ready now?”

Harrison nodded. “I am, but I don’t know about her.”

“Well, all I can tell you brother is that if you really want to get back with her, don’t give up on her too soon. Good black women, good women period, are hard to find.”

“Tell me about it,” Harrison mumbled, slapping the side of the steering wheel.

“Me, I lucked out when I found Debra. I’m glad I married her when I did while she was still a young virgin and didn’t know shit! True, she can’t fuck worth a damn, but that’s all right. I got that covered. I’ve always had more pussy than I could handle, anyway. Marriage didn’t change that. Me, I don’t care what Dr. Phil, Dr. Ruth, Dr. Doolittle, or any other doctor says, a man getting him a strange piece of pussy now and then has nothing to do with his marriage. What I do outside my marriage is only about biology, nothing more,” he decided. “But Debra’s clean, she can cook up a storm, she’s quiet and sweet, she’s cute—and she’ll do anything I tell her to do. She’s got everything she needs, and she belongs to one of the most sanctified churches in Atlanta to boot. I can do whatever else I want to and not worry about her acting a fool about it. Leaving me and shit then writing a tell-all book! What more could a man ask for? Shit. Man, do you mind if I smoke?” Trevor didn’t even wait for Harrison to respond before he whipped out a package of Newports and flicked on his lighter. But Harrison had stopped listening to him anyway.

Harrison and Trevor visited an old friend who was now a bartender at a popular jazz club in South Central. This was where they spent the next two and a half hours. It had been a long day for Harrison and all he wanted to do now was relax.

It had been a long day for Nicole, too. She had managed to set up a meeting for Teri with Eric. But because it was after hours and because Eric had a problem getting a babysitter for his daughter, Teri had to meet Eric at his loft. She didn’t have a problem meeting with Eric at his place, even though it was in a fairly rough neighborhood in a semi-industrial area near a vegetable-and-meat-packing plant on Baylor Street. Nicole had even offered to go with Teri to “take notes,” but Teri had jokingly scolded her and told her that she needed to come up with a better plan if she wanted to get in Eric’s pants.

Teri had lived in a loft once so she knew what to expect when she entered the big brooding building Eric called home. The
hallway to get to the elevator was long, dark, and deserted. And it was spooky enough for her to make sure that the can of mace she kept in her purse was easy to get to.

When Teri got out of the elevator on the third floor, Eric was waiting for her. He wore a pair of jeans torn at the knees, a shabby plaid shirt, and sandals. He looked so bohemian and comfortable with himself. It was no wonder Nicole found him so irresistible. His front door, directly across from the elevator, was wide open.

“I hope you didn’t have any trouble finding this place,” he said, greeting her with an embrace.

“I used to live around here. I still know my way around,” she explained, following him inside.

“I won’t take up too much of your time. I know how busy you are, Teri.” Eric had no way of knowing that the only thing left on Teri’s agenda for the day was to pick up some take-out soul food, then go home and see what movie the Lifetime movie channel had to offer.

“Don’t worry about the time. I can stay as long as you want me to,” she said. She immediately wished she had not said that. Yvette leaped up off the floor in front of a large leather sofa with the same scowl on her face that Teri had seen the last time she saw her at the Andrewses’ party. “Hello, Yvette,” Teri said, forcing herself to be cordial.

“Eric, I wish you would stop leaving that damn door open when you expecting somebody. We got enough flies and other flying creatures up in here already.” Yvette paused and gave Teri a crooked smile. “Hi, uh, Teri is your name, right?” Yvette blew on the nails she’d just painted candy apple red.

“Teri is my name,” Teri said, putting a lot of emphasis on her words.

Yvette gave Teri a prolonged critique, staring her up and down determined to find a few flaws. “I’m glad I’m not the only one having a bad hair day,” she said, patting her matted braids. “It must be windy as hell out there. Girlfriend, you ought to wear a cap or something when you go out.” Yvette’s unflattering comments didn’t even faze Teri. Yvette was what she was, and that wasn’t saying much. She was consistent if nothing else, so Teri always ex
pected a chilly reception when she encountered miserable people like Yvette.

Eric’s five-year-old daughter, Akua, entered the room from behind a curtain with an iPod in her hand, shaking it. “I’m Akua. I know who you are already, Teri. My daddy told me all about you and how much he likes working with you.”

“Hi, sweetie. I’m glad to finally meet you.”

“Do you help them dudes make records?”

“Not exactly. All the recording is done in a studio in Encino and I rarely go out there. I work in the administrative end of the music business. But I get to hang out with a lot of stars,” Teri said, speaking in a childish tone of voice.

“You know Bow Wow or Romeo?” Akua wanted to know. She stood in front of Teri, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“No, I’m afraid I haven’t met those young brothers yet. But when I do I’ll let you know.” Teri’s face was all smiles despite the fact that Yvette was staring daggers at her.

Teri knew that Eric had a daughter, but she had never met the girl until now and she’d never even seen a picture of her. Akua looked exactly like Eric, and she seemed well mannered, despite the fact that she had an oafish bitch like Yvette in her life.

“Oh, okay.” Akua shrugged then turned to Eric. “Daddy, it still doesn’t work,” she whined, shaking the iPod so hard it rattled.

“Eric, if this is not a good time we can get together tomorrow or a later date. There’s really no real rush for me to see the prints we discussed or to talk to you about your bid.”

Yvette plopped down on the couch and began to paint her toenails, which were almost as long and curled as her fingernails.

“This time is as good as any,” Eric insisted, cutting her off with a wave of his hand. Right after he said that, Yvette whirled around.

“Boogie Dawson is on her way over here to do my hair. She couldn’t find a babysitter so she’s bringing all her kids with her,” Yvette announced with a smirk. “I didn’t know you had planned no meeting here tonight and I can’t change my appointment.”

“Eric, we can go to my office so I can look at the prints,” Teri suggested. She caught the glare that Yvette cast in her direction, but that didn’t bother her, either.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I don’t mind,” Eric said. Teri could
tell from the look on his face that he was in a situation that he was no longer happy with. Why that was the case was a mystery to her. “Just let me get my gear and we can be on our way. Honey, now that Yvette is going to be home with you, you’d better mind her while I’m gone,” he said to his daughter, offering her a weak smile.

“What?” Akua shrieked. “I want to go with you!”

Yvette let out a croak of a gasp that was probably heard by residents in the next state. “Oh no, you ain’t going there! Just because I’m going to be home, that don’t mean I feel like babysitting, Eric. I already told you that. If you are not taking her with you, you’d better call somebody else up and get them over here,” Yvette told him, not looking up from her toes.

“Teri, I’m sorry. It looks like I’m going to have to reschedule after all,” Eric muttered, a sharp pain shooting through his chest. This was one brother who knew that he had to make some serious adjustments in his life. He loved his daughter and he loved his work so there was nothing he could do about that. And, in his own strange way, he still had feelings for Yvette. Whenever she acted a fool, which seemed to be all she ever did anymore when it came to his friends and associates, he thought about the good times they had had early in their relationship. But the memory of the good times was getting dimmer and dimmer and he knew he had to make a change.