It was a Sunday evening when my buddy Anthony, who’s known as Ant, phoned me to meet him at our favorite daiquiri shop for a few games of billiards.
As I turned into the driveway, I noticed the female in the departing lane. It only took me a moment to realize that I knew her.
I grabbed a parking spot and sat for a moment, thinking how unlucky I was. If Ant had only called me a couple of minutes earlier.
As I exited my car, I saw her pulling back in. She cut a look before shifting her eyes away. I tossed up my arm, forcing her attention. She stopped next to me. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” Her broad smile was just as I remembered. “Your name is Trish, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Stefen.”
“I remember you.”
“So you weren’t going to speak?”
“I didn’t even see you until you waved me down.”
“So what’s up?”
“Nothing. I thought I would just pass by and get myself something to drink.”
“Isn’t that a daiquiri in your cup holder?”
She tossed her eyes sarcastically. “What, are you some kind of a detective or something?”
I laughed. “No.”
“You shouldn’t be worried about what’s in my cup holder. You should be trying to ask me out. That’s what you should be worried about.”
“What happened to your dude? You’re not with him anymore?”
“You’re talking about Jerome? He’s gone. He went to jail for selling to an undercover.”
“Really?”
“Where you been? That happened almost a year ago.”
“Why was he dealing? I thought he was doing it big with Club Hush.”
“I did, too, but enough about him. Are you going to ask me out or what?”
“Are you going to admit you drove all the way back just to see me?”
“Whatever.” Trish placed the car in gear.
“Hold up, Trish. I’m kidding.”
“Take my number and you’d better call me.”
“I will…”
“Don’t play with me, Stefen.”
“Look, I’m putting your number in. See?”
“Call me right now.”
“What, you don’t believe me?”
“Well, don’t call me then…”
“I just dialed you.” She grinned mischievously as she added me to her contacts. “You just wanted my number, didn’t you?”
“I sure did… Bye.”
Ant had just walked up and was standing next to me as she drove away. “Trish… She was just in here.”
“You know her?”
“No, I never met her. I just remember her with Jerome. Are you going to get with that?”
“We talked about doing something.”
“Be careful, I heard she’s big-time jealous and all about that drama.”
I’d arrived home, eaten, taken a shower, and was relaxing in front of the TV watching the NFL night game when Trish called. “Hello.”
“Stefen, this is Trish.”
“Hey, what’s up?”
“I was trying to see what you were doing.”
“The game is on and…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, when are you going to come over and see me?”
“When do you want me to?”
“I’m bored right now.”
“Well, I guess I’m on my way.”
Trish lived in a Mansion just off Magazine Street that had been converted into apartments.
She was standing outside waiting as I pulled up. I was immediately reminded of how long her thin legs were. She was wearing a red skinny strap top with khaki shorts, cuffed just below her butt cheeks.
The entrance to her unit was through a wrought iron fence along the side of the residence to the rear. It was a quaint kitchen combo, living room, bedroom, with a small bath. She’d furnished it with a queen-sized bed, dresser, a chifforobe set, and a single window unit air conditioner.
Flickering licks from scented container candles were aglow, and on the walls were images of jazz greats, John Coltrane, Miles Davis, and Ella Fitzgerald. Just below the thirty-two-inch TV was a small three-piece stereo set, and next to it were two CD towers filled to capacity.
“This is a nice place, Trish. It has a cool vibe.”
“Thanks.” She sat on the bed, patting the spot next to her. “Have a seat. Do you want to listen to some music? I have just about everything. What do you like?”
“Seventies soul?”
“Stax, Philly, Motown?”
“Philly.”
“Stylistics, Blue Magic, Intruders…?”
“Delfonics?”
Trish placed the disc into the player. The crack of the snare, followed by the orchestra and William Hart’s rich tenor on ‘La La Means I Love You’ filled the room.
She cuddled up next to me with an ashtray and a partially smoked blunt. “You want a hit of this?”
“I’m good.”
“Okay, but I need you to show me something.”
“What’s that?”
Trish lit the joint, taking a couple of draws and breathing out. “Hold on, I’ll tell you. Give me a second.” She took a few more tokes, letting the smoke fill her lungs. She knocked off the flame, brushing away the remaining sparks with the tips of her fingers as she set the outfit onto the dresser. She then crossed her legs in front of me, Native American style, focusing on my crotch. “Let me see your dick. Can I take it out?”
Trish opened my zipper, reached in, and removed me. “Oh, this is nice, Stefen.” She gripped me tightly, placing the head to her parted lips, kissing and nibbling gently. “Mmm. I’m about to suck every drop out of this.”
She lowered my pants and shorts to my ankles. Starting at my inner thighs, Trish briskly ran her teasing tongue to my perineum.
She then took my shaft into her mouth for what seemed like an eternity. I’d drifted off into a fog of pleasure, balancing between high arousal and semi-consciousness. The Delfonics were now on their fourth song when Trish finally released me. She turned her attention to my testicles, playfully suctioning each one, pulling and stretching them to their limit before releasing.
I’d reached the end. Trish quickly placed me to the back of her throat, matching every spurt with a timely swallow.
I awoke to the scent of food and sweet-sounding music. I slipped into my boxers and stepped into the kitchen.
“Good morning. I was just about to go and see about you. Are you hungry?”
“Sure.” I pulled a chair and sat at the table. I watched as Trish piled my plate with scrambled eggs, grits, and bacon strips. “This looks delicious.”
“Thanks, did you sleep well?”
“Yeah, I did. But I didn’t know you could sing like that. I thought it was the radio.”
“I got it from my mother. She sang in church since she was a little girl.”
“Have you ever thought about doing anything with it? You’re really good.”
“I’ve tried before, but something always gets in the way. I have bad luck, Stefen. Like you could never imagine.”
“You can’t give up with talent like that. What about the Gong shows? I’m sure you could win.”
“You mean the gong shows where they can’t wait to boo your ass off the stage? They be booing when they’re standing in line outside paying to get in.”
“But you can sing.”
“Jerome had one of those at his club. I thought about it but…”
“Just try it. You never know. I have a friend from high school who’s in the music business. He’s a producer, and he has a studio. I can talk with him and get some advice.”
“Who is he?”
“Larry, Larry Frick.”
“You know Larry?!”
“Yeah, I’m sure I can put something together.”
“Are you going to be my manager?”
“I could do that, sure. Why don’t you let me do a quick video with my phone, and I can show it to him?”
“Okay, you’ve talked me into it. I’ll do it!”
“Where did you find this girl? She’s unbelievable.” Larry restarted the video. “I’ve been looking for someone like this for years, and here you are, not even in the business, and you hit gold.”
“I’ve known her for a while, and we ran into each other. We hung out, and this morning she’s making breakfast and…”
“Oh no.”
“What? What’s the matter?”
“Stef, have you fucked this chick?”
“Technically speaking I haven’t.”
“If you’re trying to manage her, you’ve already made a big mistake.”
“All this happened before I even knew she could sing.”
“Don’t worry about it. That’s usually how it works out. Now, just because you’re in a relationship with her doesn’t mean you don’t need to protect yourself. You don’t want her to be able to walk after you’ve invested your time and money.” Larry removed some papers from the mixing console and handed them to me. “This is a standard artist-management contract. It’s for two years.” I perused the wording and legal terms. “Have her look at it and sign it or let her take it to her lawyer.”
“Okay.”
“What’s your plan so far? Have you set any goals with her?”
“Well, like I said, all this just happened this morning, but I was thinking we could check out the Gong Show. You know, let her get the feel of it. There’s one tonight.”
“That’s an excellent idea, but let me tell you what’s going to happen. With that kind of exposure and the talent she has, she’s going to be bombarded with offers and opportunities she’s never had before.
“She’s a very attractive girl; beautiful. Producers and managers are going to come out of nowhere, Stef, telling her that you don’t have any experience or that you’re going to hold her back. They will try to pull her away from you. It’s like a new girl on the stroll. Every pimp and his bottom are after her to choose them. You have to be the best pimp. It’s the nature of this business.”
“Is there anything you can offer us? You heard her sing.”
“Sure. I can shoot a video, get airplay, and distribution. But you’ll have to make it happen. Come up with a hit and bring it to me.”
A few hours later, I arrived at Trish’s place. She hopped in, beaming as she placed a peck on my cheek. “What did he say?!”
“He loved what he’s heard so far. He thinks you have what it takes.”
“Really?!”
“He wants to work with us. Oh, and he also suggested we make it official.” I handed Trish the contract. “This is an artist-management agreement. It states that for the next two years, we’re joined at the hip. You’re exclusive to me, and I represent you.”
“Okay.” Trish flipped to the last page. “Do I sign here?”
“You don’t have to do it right now. Why don’t you take a few days to look it over and…”
“Can’t I trust you?”
“Sure, you can, Trish. I was just…”
“I had nothing planned for the next two years anyway.” She retrieved a pen from her bag and placed her signature on the line. “Is there anything else I need to do?”
“No, that’s it.”
“Let’s go.”
The gong shows were hosted by Benny Merchant, a cross-dressing R&B singer whose glory days were the 1960s. His insult comic routine and trading verbal blows with audience hecklers had become a tradition.
The standout performer was a young lady named Nicole. She had a local hit and often opened concerts for major artists.
The band was led by Jimmy. He was an extraordinary keyboard player whom I’d known since grade school. The rest of the band consisted of a small horn section, a drummer, a bass player, and a guitar player who switched between lead and rhythm.
We had taken our seats at a table near the dance floor, which doubled as the stage. There was a DJ and couples dancing before the beginning of the show.
The waitress had just placed our drinks when Trish stood, kicking her chair away. “I want to go!”
“Why, we just got here?”
She tore out through the entrance with me following closely on her heels. I caught her by the arm, stopping her. “What’s wrong? Are you nervous? We’re just going to watch, remember?”
“I’m not nervous. I have a problem with you looking up and down that bitch on the dance floor.”
“Wait, what? Who are you talking about?”
“That ho’, shaking her ass all in your face.”
“You’re upset about some girl on the dance floor?” I laughed. “So there is a little green monster living inside of you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Whatever.”
“You know, there are a lot of guys on that dance floor, too. I could just as easily say you were scoping out dick.”
“Stop it!” Trish grinned.
We were treated to a rare impromptu performance by Benny doing one of his classics as the opener. In the end, it was Nicole taking the one-hundred-dollar prize for her cover of Anita Baker’s ‘No More Tears’.
The band was breaking down when I escorted Trish over to meet Jimmy. “What’s up, Stef?” He looked to Trish. “And who do we have here?”
“This is Trish.”
Jimmy was full of flirt. “Hello, Trish.”
“We might be interested in singing in next week’s show.”
“Who’s we, Stef? You can’t sing.”
“I’m talking about Trish, fool.”
“Well, if she sings as good as she looks.” Jimmy’s facetious head-to-toe scan was met with a heavy sigh.
“Man, you still got those jokes, don’t you?”
“Alright, alright. Come to the rehearsals on Tuesday around three.”
“We’ll be there.”
“Now, Trish, you can come by yourself if you like. You don’t need all that dead weight you got with you. I can take care of everything.”
Trish countered, “I don’t do anything or go anywhere without my manager.”
“Your manager! Watch out, nah. I didn’t know it was like that!” Jimmy bowed in jest, playing to the delight of his bandmates. “You da man, Stef.”
The union hall was a large auditorium with a stage setup in the rear. In the audience were other local musicians, performers, and neighborhood folk who would come and sit in for the free show.
We took a couple of chairs next to the band and were still getting situated when Nicole strutted over to us. “Hey, Stefen, how you doin’? You haven’t called me in so long. We don’t hang out anymore.”
“I’m doing fine, Nicole, and thanks for asking. But you know damn well we never hung out, I’ve never had your number, and we’ve never talked on the phone.”
“Oh, boy, you so crazy. Come holla at me before you leave so we can catch up.” She lightly touched my arm before walking away. I looked to Trish. “I’m sorry about that.”
“That’s okay, I have something for her.”
Jimmy called Trish to the stage. “What are we doing?”
“Do you know ‘Out On A Limb’?”
There was an instant mumbling through the hall. Nicole cackled from across the room, “Aw, Lord. The bitch better be able to sing, tryin’ to do Teena.”
The crowd went silent as Trish began her opening verse. Jimmy looked over to a gaping-mouthed, befuddled Nicole, taunting with a nod.
Trish was pitch perfect, flawless, closing the number to a standing ovation. She took a bow and turned towards Jimmy. “Do you need another one?”
“No, darling! You are in! Go home and rest your voice. We’ll see you Saturday.” He shouted across to Nicole. “You’re in trouble! You’d better bring your A game!” Nicole tossed up a middle finger. “That won’t do you any good!”
I hurried to Trish, grabbing her by the cheeks, pulling her in for a kiss. “That was unbelievable! I didn’t know you were that damn good. You’re a star. You’re going somewhere.”
“We’re going somewhere.”
It was Friday when I got the call from Jimmy. Trish and I were at my place rehearsing. “Hey, Jimmy, what’s up?”
“Stef. I have some bad news, man.”
“No, what happened?”
“There was a shooting at the club. I don’t know all the details, but it’s not good. You know how those fools always have to mess shit up. It makes us all look bad.”
“Well, how’s that bad news for us? We didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“Stef, the owner, has closed the club down until further notice. There’s no more Gong Show.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, man, it’s all over. They’re talking about turning it into a country and western joint.”
Trish asked. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Jimmy. He said that there was a shooting at the club tonight. They’re not going to do the Gong Shows anymore.”
“I knew it.” She quietly walked away, heading to the bedroom.
“I’m sorry, Jimmy, I was talking to Trish. So are they going to do it somewhere else? Can’t they get another place?”
“Benny’s looking into it now… I know this must sting, man. You and your girl were ready.”
I looked toward the darkened room. “Yeah, I don’t think she’s taking it too well.”
“Look, don’t worry about that. She’s too big for a Gong Show anyway. She needs to be in the studio doing some recording. Does she write?”
“I don’t know, I’ll have to ask her.”
“Get her or somebody to start writing. I got plenty of tracks. We can at least get something to bring to a label.”
“Yeah, Jimmy, I think you’re on to something.”
“I know I am. Do you have access to a studio? Somewhere we can work out?”
“I have a buddy of mine who has one, but it’s not like I could go every day. He owns a label, and it’s always in use.”
“Well, do this. Get you some equipment and put a studio in your place. All you need is a basic Pro Tools setup, and you’re good to go.”
“That sounds even more expensive.”
“It’s not as bad as you think. It’s actually cheaper in the long run. You already have musicians. I know you’ll take care of us down the line. Just throw a few bucks from time to time so we can get a couple bags of weed and we good.”
“Now that sounds like a plan. Pro Tool, right?”
“Pro Tools…with a s on the end of it. Yeah, just go over to Guitar Center. It’s in Elmwood. They’ll get you squared away. You don’t have to go overboard and buy the whole place. Tell them that you just want the basic home studio. If you run into anything, just hit me up.”
“Thanks, bro.”
Trish was stretched across the bed, talking quietly on her cell phone when I walked in. “It’s not his fault.” I paused. Trish continued, “He’s doing what he’s supposed to be doing.” Trish listened briefly. “He can’t help what happened at the club, Keisha.” I crawled onto the bed next to her. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to see, won’t I?” Trish looked up at me. Her eyes were awash with tears. “Look, I have to go.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m alright, I guess.”
“Who was that?”
“That’s my cousin Keisha. I was telling her what happened, and she’s being stupid. Don’t worry about her. Shit… Every time. Every time I try to do something it ends up like this. That’s why I don’t pursue it. I have bad luck, Stefen.”
“This was actually a good thing.”
“How?”
“Jimmy and I were discussing the next step. We need to get you recorded. Do you write?”
“I’ve been writing all my life. I have hundreds of songs. They’re pretty good too.”
“Perfect. I’m going to buy some recording equipment to put in here. He was saying Pro Tools?”
“Are you serious?!” Trish wiped her eyes. “I know what that is. You have to use your computer, and all your controls are on the screen. That’s what everyone is using.”
“Looks like I need to bring you with me.”
“I would love to, but are you sure. That stuff is not cheap.”
“We’re a team, aren’t we?”
Trish leaned in close, nuzzling my cheek. She then ran her hand up the nape of my neck, pulling me closer and rewarding me with light kisses to my face and lips.
I climbed atop her, positioning myself between her long, narrow legs.
I removed her top, raising it above her head, and tossed it to the floor. I lifted her bra, attacking her pert, firm breast, fervidly nibbling, sucking, and biting her erect nipples.
Trish reached below, unbuckled my belt, and opened my pants.
I raised her skirt, pulled the crotch of her panties to the side, and entered her. She responded with a low, resonant, animalistic moan. She dug her fingers into my buttocks, pulling me deeper. My slow and steady pumps were matched stroke for stroke.
Trish looked up at me with lustful fire in her eyes. She grabbed my wrist, placing my hand firmly around her throat. She clamped her fingers around mine, forcing me to squeeze tighter. “Choke me, Stefen. Choke me good. I want to come all over your dick!”
I kept my grip, increasing my rhythm. “That’s it, Stefen, just like that.” Trish’s face was now a bright crimson. Veins bulged from her forehead and neck. Her legs began kicking wildly below me. “Choke me, motherfucker!” A gurgle emanated from her partly opened mouth. Her eyes rolled back. Her body went still.
I panicked, releasing the tension, only to be sharply reprimanded. “Damn it! Why did you stop?” Trish coughed and wheezed. “I was right there. You made me miss it!”
“I thought I was killing you!”
She smiled seductively. “No, you weren’t killing me.” She guided me back in. “Your dick is still hard. You couldn’t have been that worried.” We picked up a slow grinding motion.
“Slap me.”
“Slap you?”
“Slap my titties.” I swatted at her left breast. She responded with a slight moan. “Yes.” I threw another grazing blow. “Do it harder. Make me feel it.”
I struck her again. “Like that?”
“That’s better, but I need you to do it like this.” Trish spanked her chest violently, splashing welts across her supple skin. “That’s how I like it.”
I was thrown aback by her self-inflicted attack, but as an obedient neophyte, I complied. I rested my weight on Trish’s neck with one hand and finger lashed her tits with the other.
“That’s it! Choke me! Slap me! I’m about to come! Whatever you do, don’t stop!” Her gasping pleas were barely audible. “Here it is. Oh shit!” Trish’s back arched. Her body went rigid. “Oh, fuck, Stefen! Ah… That was so fucking good… So good.”
I began pounding into Trish with everything I had. I could already feel my orgasm approaching. “It’s right here, damn it! I’m about to nut!”
Trish hurriedly rolled me over. She grabbed my shaft, jerking and tugging unrelentingly, sending blasts of hot semen across her arms and shoulders. “That’s it! Shoot it! Shit! Look at it. It’s so much.”
Nick was dressed more conservatively than the younger salesmen, sporting slacks and a button-up shirt. Through his thick European accent, he inquired as to what we wanted to do and what we were trying to achieve. We explained our situation and how we needed the ability to record professional demos to shop to potential record labels and distributors.
He set us up with a Digi 003, a set of KRK monitors, a condenser microphone, and a preamp, along with a new Mac computer.
I’d just handed my credit card when I noticed Trish walking off to the side. After checking my receipt, I approached her. “Are you okay?” She turned to me. “Trish, why are you crying? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just never had anyone do something like this for me before.”
I pulled her close. “It’s not a big deal. You deserve this. It’s time you caught a break.”
It was later that evening when Jimmy came over. He set everything up in the living room and ran the microphone cables into the second bedroom closet, setting it up as a vocal booth.
“I got something I think you’ll like, Trish.” Jimmy pressed the play button on the big eighty-eight-key Triton. Through the KRKs came an R&B groove with a catchy hook, sweetened with a rich string accoutrement. Trish loved it and, within moments, had lyrics to it.
The sun was just beginning to rise when Trish felt she was ready. She put down a solid main vocal. Jimmy then did a nice mix, adding in some reverb to open it up a bit. He had Trish go back in and lay down a second vocal to add fullness, and some backing tracks and ad-libs to complete it.
We now had something to work with. We burned a few copies so that Jimmy could use to get his mates motivated, and another for Trish to practice with and maybe come up with a few variations. I also had one to pitch to Larry.
Trish and I began to catch as much live music as we could. We did both weekends of the Jazz and Heritage Festival and hit the House of Blues almost nightly.
We found some informative vocal exercises online and worked on her voice, breathing, warming up, and loosening of the mouth.
We then began to work hard on new material, often into the middle of the night. Jimmy began coming over with Elton, the drummer in his band, to help with percussion. It resulted in three more songs that definitely had legs.
Lakeshore Drive ran along Lake Pontchartrain, north of the city. Sunday was the day most people hung out. There were pick-up sports, fishing, and picnicking, but it was mostly a gathering of friends putting down drinks, listening to loud music, and guys talking about their freshly polished cars.
“Trish, I’m going and hang out at the lake with Ant.”
“What? Why are you going to the lake to play with ants? Don’t they have some outside? And why would you want to play with ants?”
“Ant is my buddy. His name is Anthony, but we call…”
“I thought Jimmy was your buddy!”
“Why are you yelling?”
“What am I supposed to do here all by myself?!”
“You have your car, Trish. You can do whatever you want to do.”
“I bet Ant is some bitch named Antoinette or Anthonique or some bullshit like that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what I said. You’re going to pick up some bitch and ride her all up and down the damn lake.”
“Why would you even think that?”
“What?! Do you think that I’m stupid?!”
“Trish, I don’t have time for this. What are you going to do?”
“I’m moving back to my house.”
“Moving? Go ahead. You never lived here anyway.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Do you need any help with your shit?”
“Okay, go hang out with your friend Ant. I’ll be gone when you get back!”
“Don’t forget to lock up.” Trish murmured as she stammered away. “Did you say something?!”
“No! Leave me alone!”
I had a quick detail on my car before heading out. Ant was already there when I arrived and was holding a parking spot for me.
I was catching him up to speed, telling him how things were going, when I noticed Trish’s car coming around the bend. As the vehicle came closer, I could see that she had a female in the passenger seat. Trish flashed a big smile, waving as she went by.
“She was always a pretty girl, Stef. I can see why you’ve been cooped up with her for so long.”
“Yeah, but I needed to get out and get some air. I would think that she would have been tired of looking at me. I mean, she has to know that I’m all about her. I just spent some serious money on all that equipment. I’m trying to get her thing together.”
“Don’t look now, but they’re walking this way.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yep, she’s right behind you.”
Trish was still smiling when I turned around. She shot a look at Ant for the heads up. “I’m not staying, Stefen. I just wanted to say hey. And what’s your name? I’m Trish.”
“Everybody calls me Ant.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Ant.”
“You already knew his name. I told you who I was hanging out with.”
“How am I supposed to have known that this was Ant? Ant could have walked away for a minute or something, and this could have been somebody else. Anyway, this is my cousin Keisha.”
Keisha didn’t speak, electing instead to toss a wave from her folded arms. Trish turned her focus to the group of girls standing nearby. “So who are those hot mamas over there? Look at that real pretty one, Keisha. I wonder what her name is. Are they friends of yours, Ant?”
“They were out here when I got out here.”
“Oh, Ant, I am so sure.”
“He doesn’t owe you an explanation, Trish.” She threw up a hand as she headed towards them. Keisha followed. “Dude, do you believe this shit? She’s checking them. What the hell, man?”
Trish gave final adieus as she and Keisha walked away. “Bye, Misty. It was nice to meet you, girl.” She then looked towards us. “Her name is Misty. I’m sure you two already knew that, though. Call me later on tonight, Stefen. Maybe you can come over or something.”
“You see how she did that shit?”
“I see.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“I don’t like to tell another man how to handle his women, but I have to say, bro, that female is crazy. You need to get out while you can, champ.”
“What do you mean?”
“I told you she’s about that drama. She came ready for action. You see, she brought back-up. Her cousin was ready to whip some ass.”
“You think so?”
“Shit yeah!”
“What should I do?”
“Cut your losses and move on.”
“I don’t know. I really like her a lot. Plus I spent some good bread on all that gear.”
“Box that shit up and bring it back to the man. See what they’ll give you for it and take it.” We broke into laughter.
“Come on, let’s go and get something to drink. We’ll take my car.”
“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”
The 7-Eleven was located a few blocks away on Elysian Fields Avenue. We’d purchased a couple of beers and were backing out of the parking space. “Hold on, Stef! Stop!”
“What is it? What?”
“Isn’t that your girl?”
I looked in the direction he was pointing. “No shit, that is her.”
“Isn’t that Rodney she’s talking to?”
“Looks like him.”
Ant grinned. “That motherfucker has got some shit with him. Do you remember the time he was telling people he was a movie producer?”
“Didn’t he run for Mayor once?”
“Twice.”
“I wonder what kind of bullshit he’s selling now.”
“He’s going to be whatever he thinks she wants.”
We watched as Rodney pulled his cell phone. He handed it to Trish. “Now ain’t this a bitch. She’s giving him her number? And she goes crazy if she even thinks I’m looking in the same direction of another woman.”
“Dude, you alright?”
“Come on, man. You know me. Let’s ride by; let her know I see her. I don’t want her to be able to deny any of this shit later.”
We eased through the lot, stopping a few yards away. I tapped the horn to get her attention. “Hello, Trish! Hello, Keisha! Look at Trish’s face, Ant. She looks guilty as hell, doesn’t she?”
Trish made her way over. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know. You tell me. You just complained about us knowing some girls who we weren’t even paying attention to, and here you are entertaining. How does that work?”
“I just met that dude. He started talking to me right when you pulled up.”
“Hold on, before you go there… We were parked in front of the 7-Eleven, and when we backed out, I could have sworn you were giving him your phone number.”
“No, Mr. Detective. I did not.”
“Are you sure you’re going to go with that? I’m lying?”
“What I’m trying to say…if you let me…”
“Go ahead.”
“I didn’t give him my number for the reason you’re thinking.”
“What reason is that, Trish? Ant, were you thinking of a reason?”
“Not me. Not at all.”
“What else you got?” I paused, looking into Trish’s blank stare. “I tell you what. While you think about that, I’ll go back and ask Misty. That was her name, right? Maybe she has something for me. Maybe I’ll give her my number, and I can call her tonight and go over to her place.” I grinned as we pulled away.
“Now you’ve gone and done it. Why’d you have to do all that, Stef? She is going to kill you. You do know that, right?”
“She doesn’t have a right to be mad at me.”
“See, you’re using logic. Logic doesn’t work with crazy people. That’s why they’re crazy.”
We had just turned onto Lakeshore Drive when I noticed my water temperature warning light was full red. Steam began to creep from the edges of my hood.
I pulled next to Ant’s truck and turned off the engine. As we exited, I could see a coolant trail from the road to my car. I knew it was something major.
I raised the hood, but there were no immediate signs. All the main hoses looked good, and there was no dripping around the water pump.
“Look at the bottom of your hood, Stef. It’s wet.”
“I see it.” I searched around the firewall area and discovered the problem. It was a six-inch heater hose that had a split the entire length across the top of it.
“I got that five-gallon container in the bed. I’m going over to the fountain right quick and fill it up.”
We then started the engine and slowly removed the radiator cap. I turned on the heater, filled the radiator, letting the system cycle, and we watched. It wasn’t but a few minutes when the broken hose sprang a rooster tail. I quickly replaced the cap and shut the hood. I checked the temperature gauge. It was at one hundred and eighty degrees. “I think I can make it, Ant. I’ll drive fast to get some ram air.”
“Take the water with you just in case. I’ll follow behind. Go!”
As I pulled away, I could see Trish and Keisha in my rearview mirror. She began calling my phone, but I was well above the speed limit, and I didn’t want to lose focus.
As I entered the I-10 on-ramp, I could see Trish trying to beat the SUV that had the right of way. It was too late. She’d trapped herself. Her car nosedived as she slammed on the brakes, sending her into the guardrail. There was an audible crunch as she side-swiped it, sending shards of sparked metal into the air.
Seconds later, Trish drove around the big SUV from its driver’s side and was now making up distance. I accelerated hard, pulling away.
I entered my apartment complex, parking in my assigned spot. I’d already opened the radiator and was filling it when the two arrived. Trish came over, leaving Keisha in the car.
“Why didn’t you stop when you saw me? You knew I was calling you, too.” She leaned in through my driver’s window, checking my phone. “I can see the missed calls right here.”
“Can’t you see I’m having car trouble? Why else would I be under the damn hood?”
“Who was riding with you? Did you drop her off somewhere? Is she hiding inside?”
“You followed me. Did you see anybody in my car?”
“I’m not crazy. Your seats are high, and you know you had the bitch ducking down. She was probably sucking your dick.”
“You almost kill yourself trying to catch me, and you say you’re not crazy?”
“What’s supposed to be wrong with your car? It looks fine to me. It’s running.”
“Yeah, but it was running hot. There’s a busted hose right where you’re standing. You should move from there.”
“Where is it leaking, Stefen? I don’t see a leak.” Trish was full of sass. “You drive a hundred thousand dollar car, and I’m supposed to believe you’re having problems with it? That don’t make sense.”
The thermostat opened, and the coolant level dropped. I continued filling. “Trish, move away before you get burned.”
“You come over here and make me move.”
“Wouldn’t that be foolish of me to stand in the same spot where I’m telling you that you’re going to get burned?”
“If it’s so hot, why don’t you turn off the motor? I even know that.”
“Because I want the system to be completely full before I shut it off, Trish. Besides, it doesn’t matter. I don’t have to answer to you.”
Trish yelled to Keisha, who had now stepped out and was looking at the damage to Trish’s car, “This man thinks I’m stupid. He’s trying to sell me some bullshit that he all of a sudden has something wrong with his car. He picked up that bitch Misty, and he’s hiding her in his apartment.”
“I did not pick up anyone. I was telling you that because you were giving out your phone number. What’s up with that?”
Trish leaned her head into the engine compartment. “I don’t see a leak.”
“Oh, so you’re just going to… Get your face out of there, Trish!”
“Looks pretty dry to me.”
“It’s dry now because I’ve been driving! Look up above you under the hood. You can still see where it splashed!”
“Oh, I’m sure I can… Maybe it’s not a leak. Maybe it’s just a mist. You get it? Maybe it’s misty down here. You can do better than that, can’t you? Tell me an elephant can climb a tree or that a monkey can do mathematics, but don’t try to…”
The initial whooshing caused Trish to jerk back, but the early warning was not soon enough. She stood, backed away, and walked to her car. She took the passenger seat, hiding her face in her hands. They reversed into a parking space, pulled forward, and drove away.
Ant was just arriving as they were leaving. I’d capped off the radiator and was shutting the engine down when he walked up. “Bro, her car is fucked up! The rear door and the quarter panel is shit! And what happened to her face? It’s all red. Please tell me you didn’t hit that girl.”
“Hell no! You know better than that. She stuck her face under the hood and got sprayed.”
“What happened to her car?”
“She hit the damn guardrail trying to chase me down. I thought she was going to go over.”
“That girl is crazy, bro! I told you. You need to cut her loose while you can… If you can. It may already be too late.”
I had just cleaned up and was finishing off a sandwich when my phone rang. “What, Trish? What do you want now?”
“Stefen, I’m calling to say that I’m so sorry. I should have believed you.”
“Have I ever lied to you?”
“No.”
“So why?”
“I have trust issues. I already know that.”
“Have trust issues with someone who shows you that they can’t be trusted. Don’t be that way with me.”
“You’re right.”
“How’s your face? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It just stings a little. I was more embarrassed than anything. I felt so stupid.”
“I need you to stop doubting me.”
“Okay, okay. You’re right.”
“Now, don’t think that I’m not going to address what you did today.”
“You mean that guy?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“This is the truth, alright? His name is Rodney, and he has a record label. Keisha met him and told him about me. One of his rappers needs someone to sing vocals…for like a chorus.”
“Is that right?”
“That’s why I was saying that it wasn’t like you thought.”
“So, how did he know you could sing? Did you go and audition?”
“I didn’t know it, but Keisha took my demo CD and let him hear it.”
“What?! So let me get this straight. She takes a demo that I had made, with equipment that I bought for you, and let someone else listen to it?! Is that correct? Didn’t you see a problem with that?”
“I didn’t tell her to do that. I swear. She did it on her own.”
“You gave him your phone number, though. How am I supposed to trust you? Do you want to go with him?”
“No, I want to stay with you. That’s why I signed the contract.”
“If we’re going to do this and if we’re going to be together, this has to stop, Trish. It has to stop now.”
“It will, I promise.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
“Hold me? You want to hold me?”
“You know what I mean.”
“But you can still come and hold me.”
“How am I going to do that without a car?”
“I guess that I’ll have to go by you.”
“So just like that, huh?”
“Yep, just like that. I’m on my way, bye.”
I took a quick shower, threw on a tee and a pair of basketball shorts. Thirty minutes later, Trish was at my door. I let her in.
She walked past me, straight to the bedroom. I followed behind, watching as she stood at the foot of the bed. Trish unbuttoned her denims, dropping them to the floor. She then lowered her panties down her thighs.
She looked to me as she leaned over, placing her palms flat onto the mattress. “I’ve been bad and I need a spanking.” She struck her buttock, leaving a discernible handprint across it. “I need it like that.” I smacked her, but my tepid attempt didn’t quite meet the velocity of Trish’s demonstration. “I’m going to need you to toughen up for me. I need a good, strong hand back there. Make me feel it.” I struck her again, but this time with more authority. “That’s it, you’re getting there.” I then began delivering repetitive strikes to her soft flesh. “Yes! You got it now. Don’t be scared thinking you’re going to hurt me. I want you to hurt me. I need to be disciplined.”
I switched sides, balancing my attack. “Spank me, bruise me!” I began punishing Trish for all she’d put me through, striking her with everything I had. “Oh, shit, Stefen, that’s it! Yes!” Guilt kicked in, and if not for her cries of pleasure, I would have stopped, hating myself.
“I’m starting to feel it, Stefen! Oh, fuck!” Trish’s legs quivered. Her knees began to buckle. “That’s it! I’m coming!” She lost support, falling face-first onto the bed. “Owe. It hurt so fucking good. You got me weak.”
She sat up facing me, tearing at my shorts, raking them down to my feet. “I want to suck your nuts. Give them to me.”
She pulled me close, taking my sack into her mouth. I began to masturbate, blowing my load within seconds. Trish hungrily sucked and licked me clean.
She stood, pulling up her jeans. “Okay, Stefen. I’m going to see you later. I won’t impose and try to stay. I’ll let you ask me to come over…when you’re ready. And I’m not going to trip anymore, okay?”
It was the next evening when I received a devastating call from Elton. He’d informed me that Jimmy had suffered a heart attack while driving and crashed into a tree. I had now lost my producer and a good friend.
I stretched across the sofa, and I began to think. Maybe Trish was right. Maybe something does always happen to her. But I was now realizing that it wasn’t bad luck; it had to be karma.
I stole a peek at the recording equipment and thought about how much time, money, and effort had gone into the project. I was deflated and didn’t want to see or talk to anyone. I needed to spend the next couple of days alone.
My phone rang. It was Trish. “Hey.”
“I’ll be there in a little bit, so be ready.”
“Didn’t you just say to me yesterday that you were going to wait until I invite you over?”
“I know, but I want to see you so bad.”
“It’s not a good time, Trish?”
“Why, what’s the matter?”
“I would rather talk to you in person, but not today. I really need to go, okay?”
“Who do you have over there, Stefen?”
“I thought we were over this.”
“You think I’m crazy with some bullshit about talking to me in person. What’s the matter, you don’t want to see me anymore?”
“It has nothing to even do with… I just got some terrible news, and I would rather talk to you about it later, alright?”
“That’s fucking bullshit, Stefen!”
“You know what, Trish? I’m done. I’m over here trying to find a way to tell you that Jimmy died today and that we may have to start all over. But now I don’t care. I really don’t care anymore. Nothing is worth all this.”
“So I’m supposed to believe that Jimmy died! You must really take me for a fool!”
I ended the call, turned off my phone, and closed my eyes.
It was twenty minutes later when I heard a knock at my door. “Stefen, open up. It’s me.” I couldn’t believe it. I decided to ignore her in hopes that she would leave. “Stefen, I want to talk. Let me in.” Trish knocked continuously. “I know you’re in there, sweetie. Open up. Why won’t you open up the door? I just want to talk, that’s all. Stop being so silly.”
The knocking stopped. I peeped out through my bedroom window blinds. Trish was peering into the car parked next to mine, blocking the sun’s glare with her hands. She pulled at the handles but couldn’t get in.
She was at my door again. “Do you have company, Stefen? Is it Misty? I don’t want to fight. I just want to talk. Let’s all sit down and talk together.”
Trish was now climbing atop the air conditioning unit, using it to cross over the fence surrounding my patio. I watched as she tugged at the sliding glass door.
She then spotted me. I was busted. She quickly scaled the fence using the hinges for footing. I lifted the window frame just enough to speak. “What do you want, Trish?”
“I want to know who you have in there.”
“There’s no one here.”
“Well, let me in so I can look around.”
“No way, you’re not coming in here. Go home and leave me the hell alone.”
“If you don’t, then we are through.”
“Good.”
“Now I know you got somebody in there. You wouldn’t let me go like that.”
“I just did.”
“I need to use the bathroom. Let me use the bathroom, please?”
“Nice try, but no.”
“If you don’t, I’m going to pee right here.”
“Go ahead and pee.” Trish unbuttoned her shorts, lowered them, squatted, and began relieving herself. “You are sick, you know that? I can’t believe you. It’s broad daylight, and you’re exposing yourself like that.”
“You see my ass?” Trish repositioned. “Look at it. It’s nice and purple like I like it. I need another spanking. Do you think you can give me one?”
“No, I don’t want to have anything to do with you, ever again.”
“Can you reach me some tissue paper?”
“You do some foul shit like that under my window and have the nerve to ask me for tissue paper?”
“Well, you should have opened the fucking door and let me use the damn toilet! I asked nicely!” She grinned. “That’s alright, it’s breezy out here. I’ll just air dry for a few minutes.” She looked to the parking lot. “Is that her car, Stefen?”
“Whose car?”
“Is that your little girlfriend’s car? It’s parked right next to yours.”
“I don’t know who it belongs to.”
Trish stood, pulling up her pants as she walked towards the vehicle. “If it’s not for your friend, you won’t care if I fuck it up, will you?”
“If you do, Trish, I swear I will call the police.”
“Call ’em. They won’t get here before I finish my work.”
“I don’t want to, Trish, but if you damage that car in any way, I swear I will.”
“If you don’t want me to, then let me in so I can look around your apartment! I want to talk to Misty!”
Here was one of those moments when you have to make a potentially life-altering decision. If I give her the confrontation she wants, someone’s going to get hurt, go to jail, or possibly something worse. I was determined to play it smart and maintain control of my emotions. “I’m not letting you in my apartment.”
Trish punched in the driver’s side window with her bare fist. She entered the car, rummaging through the glove box and console. I grabbed my phone and dialed the authorities. They confirmed that they were sending someone out and advised me to stay indoors and to let the officers handle the situation.
Trish exited. Her hand and arm were streaked with blood. She reached into her purse, removing a large, shiny butcher’s knife, pointing it in my direction. “You should have listened to me!”
“What are you about to do?!”
“Watch me!” Trish went around the car, puncturing each tire’s sidewall, flattening them. With the tip of the blade, she began cutting into the car’s finish, drawing long lines along the sides.
“Trish! Stop that! You’re going to pay for that shit, I’m telling you! Leave that car alone!”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t be worried about this car. Soon as I finish with these seats, you’re next.”
“The police are on their way! Your crazy ass is going to jail!”
“I don’t give a fuck! I’m not leaving here until I see that bitch!” As Trish charged, I backed away. She began stabbing the glass, breaking panes, and was now reaching in, unlocking the latch, when the patrol car rolled up.
The first officer commanded, “Put down the knife, now!” Trish turned to the policeman. He was standing in a defensive position with his hand on the top of his holstered weapon. I watched as the second officer circled around to the side of Trish. “I’m not going to tell you again! Drop the knife!” He looked over her shoulder to me. “You, sir, step away from the window! Retreat to another room and get flat on the floor!” I complied.
I then heard a knock at my door. I opened it.
“Sir, was it you who called 9-1-1?”
“Yes, it was me, officer.”
“Step out, please.” I followed his order, leaving my door ajar. “I’m only going to ask you once, and I need you to be truthful. Did you have any physical contact with this female?”
“No, sir, I stayed inside as I was advised to.”
“Do you know how she was injured? Was she cut with the knife?”
“No.” I pointed to the damaged vehicle. “She punched out the window of that car.”
“Come with me, sir.” I followed him to the lawn and was told to wait. Trish was cuffed from behind. Grass blades and dirt covered her face, hair, and clothing.
I was beckoned over to who seemed to be the senior officer. “She’s telling us that she’s your girlfriend and that you have another female in your apartment.”
I knew she couldn’t do anything to me at this point, but I instinctively searched for that butcher’s knife. I spotted it on the dash of the patrol car. “I tried to tell her, I’m alone. You’re welcome to go in and see for yourself, officer.”
“Whose vehicle is this, sir?”
“I have no idea.”
He looked to Trish. “So you damaged someone’s vehicle, damaged private property, and injured yourself because you thought he had someone inside?” Trish dipped her head, her eyes focusing on her bare feet. “And now you find out he was telling the truth.”
I cut in, “I’ve always told her the truth.”
The neighbors were now out, and the apartment manager had arrived. She explained that the car was for a friend of a tenant who had taken their car and was out of the state on vacation.
The EMTs treated and bandaged Trish’s wound. Her rights were read to her, and she was placed into the police car.
I could not help but feel bad for Trish, but I realized it could just as easily have been me in the back of that car or stretched out in the ambulance. I’d made the right choice.
I dropped in at Larry’s studio to hang out a bit and let him know that I was officially out of the manager business. After getting him up to speed, he broke it all down for me.
“Stef, what you have to understand is that when you have a talent like Trish has, and you’re not mature enough or have the people in place to bring you through it, you’re bound to make rash and reckless decisions. You had good intentions for her, but when she has someone close that she trusts, like her cousin Keisha, who is as misguided as she is, there can be no good outcome.
“Keisha could also have had good intentions, or she just may have been jealous of her or you. You may never know. There are thousands of talented people who never make it for many reasons. The one’s who do may not be the most talented, but they are the most determined.
“Unless Trish can get over her insecurities, she’s going to have a hard time making a career in the entertainment business. She can’t be on the road doing shows with a man at home, worrying about his every move. And she can’t have him traveling with her, ready to attack every female that even crosses his line of sight.
“This is what I was saying in the beginning. I wasn’t going to come in unless I knew that either of you was able to handle a manager and artist relationship.
“However, you do have an ear for talent. I would like for you to keep looking, and if you come across something, bring them to me. I’ll determine if they’re ready, and if I sign them or refer them, I’ll cut you a check.”
“Cut me a check?”
“Yeah, a finder’s fee. That’s standard practice.”
“I’ll have to give that some thought, Larry.”
“I hear you, brother.”
I returned all the equipment to Guitar Center and took a beating. I was beyond the thirty-day return limit, so it got sold back to the store as used. It wasn’t pawn shop prices, but it was still enough to hurt.
The following Sunday, Ant and I were cruising Lakeshore Drive. We pulled in a spot and parked. We were standing around talking and watching the sights when Ant looked off into the distance.
“Stef, you’re not going to believe this, bro.”
“What?”
“Your girl is over there on a blanket with Rodney.”
“Come on, man, stop playing.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you. Take a look over your shoulder.”
“Ain’t this some shit? They’re having a picnic? I’m wondering now if they…”
“It’s done, don’t look back trying to analyze it. Chalk it up as experience and move on.”
“I really liked her, though.”
“There will be plenty more, man.”
“You’re right.”
“Well, it looks like she’s seen you.”
“I hope she isn’t bringing more drama.”
“I got you, bro. Just hear what she has to say, and I’ll keep my eye out for Rodney.” Ant grinned. “Just try not to let her stand too close. She might have a knife.”
“Hey, Ant, how are you?”
“I’m okay.”
“I just want to talk to Stefen for a minute, do you mind?”
“That’s up to him.”
“I’m not going to start anything, Stefen. I heard that Jimmy really died, and I just wanted to come over and offer my condolences.”
“Thank you.”
“I also want to say that I’m sorry for not believing you.”
I looked towards Rodney. “Or believing in me.”
“I know, you’re right. That’s the story of my life. One bad mistake after another. How’s your car? Did you get it fixed?”
“Yeah, I did actually. They replaced all the hoses and coolant. Come to find out, it was a factory recall, so it didn’t cost me anything. What about yours?”
“The insurance company is taking care of it.”
“I see your hand is healing well.”
“Oh.” She turned slightly. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“How’s the music business?”
“That’s the other thing I came over to tell you. My new business partner is taking over.”
“He sent you over here, didn’t he?”
“I forgot you’re a detective.”
“It wasn’t that hard to figure out. Is he going to buy out your contract?”
“He said that contract wasn’t legal. It wasn’t even notarized.”
“It doesn’t have to be, Trish.”
“Yes, it does, Stefen. And his cousin is an artist and…uh… artist…and…” She snapped her finger repeatedly, searching. I grinned as Ant tossed up his arms in disbelief. “It’s artist… That’s the first part…”
“You mean artist and repertoire? He’s an A&R rep?”
“Yeah, that, at Sony. He can do more for me than you can.”
“Have you met this cousin of his?”
“No, not yet. He’s out in L.A. right now.”
“Have you even talked to him…on the phone at least?”
“No, but I’m auditioning for him when he gets back in a couple of months.”
“A couple of months, huh? Well, Rodney has claimed all kinds of connections, but I wish you luck with that.”
“What are you… How do you even know Rodney?”
“Ant and I both know Rodney, Trish. He’s been running the same game for years. You got played. But hey, just to ease your mind, I’ll tear up our deal and mail the pieces to you. This way, when you realize that I’m right about the contract and discover Rodney’s full of shit, you can just move on to the next person. Goodbye, Trish.”
Creole Gaudet
Copyright ©2015 by Creole Gaudet. All rights reserved
No part of this book/series may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system – except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or newspaper – without permission in writing from the publisher, Creole Gaudet.