Crossroads Read online

  “But I feel I should apologize.”

  “Give it some time. Just not yet. Focus on you. I gotta run bruh, but I’ll call you as soon as I get out of here. I might even make a trip to NYC. I got to take care of some business there.”

  “OK, let me know. I got the hotel room for the week.”

  Denise hung up with Cooley. She put her phone on the desk. She noticed the time on the clock. Mariah would be there in two hours. She needed to completely sober up. Denise inhaled; she knew something had to happen for the good soon.

  Lena stared at the door to her loft. She didn’t want to stay in New York another minute. She grabbed her things from her room and headed straight to the airport. She booked a thousand-dollar non-stop flight home. She was back in Memphis before the sun completely came up.

  She could hear Sade coming from the inside. She knew Brandon was home. He always listened to Sade when he had a lot on his mind.

  She unlocked the door and pulled it open. The place was ransacked. A gallon of SKYY vodka lay over on its side, empty. Dishes were everywhere, chairs were turned over. Brandon had wrecked the place.

  Brandon walked from around the corner. Their eyes met. Sade’s voice filled the air as they stared at each other. Brandon’s straight face dropped.

  “You’re back.”

  Lena lowered her head. “Yes. I see you did some redecorating.”

  Brandon walked closer. “Well, when a man’s wife runs off to New York to be with some bitch, naturally, he might be a little angry.”

  Lena dropped her purse and keys on the kitchen counter. “Brandon, we need to—”

  “No! Fuck talking, Lena! What the fuck are you doing back here?”

  “This is my home.”

  “Was your home.”

  Lena walked closer to Brandon. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Does it look like I’m fucking kidding?!” Brandon knocked the one remaining kitchen table chair over.

  “Brandon, nothing happened. I just wanted to—”

  “Wanted to what?”

  “I just needed to say good-bye. We didn’t do anything. I didn’t even spend the night in New York. We talked, and I went straight back to the airport.” Lena walked past Brandon, he followed.

  “And you couldn’t do that in Memphis? You couldn’t pick the damn phone up or send her a fucking e-mail?”

  “No! I ... I don’t want to talk about it.” She looked up, and Brandon was replaced with Denise. She blinked, causing Brandon to reappear. Lena’s body began to tremble. Her stomach knotted up.

  “You don’t have a choice. We are gonna talk about this now! What the fuck, Lena? How am I supposed to respond to this shit?”

  “I don’t know. Probably the same way I responded to finding out about your other bitches, and your son!” Lena’s side cramped. She tried to massage the cramp out of her right side.

  Brandon’s lips tightened, his broad shoulders sunk in. “Really, Lena, you want to go there then cool. Yes, Lena, I fucked off. But that’s all I did. I fucked those bitches. They didn’t mean shit to me! You, Lena, you fucking loved that girl.”

  “I never ...”

  “I heard you!” Brandon’s body now trembled along with Lena’s. Tears streamed down his masculine face. “I heard you in her hospital room. You told her that you were in love with her.”

  With one swoop, his hands crashed into the expensive brown vase on the small table, causing it to crash to the floor.

  The knots in Lena’s stomach now filled her whole body. She stood frozen.

  Brandon couldn’t take his eyes off the shattered vase, broken in a million pieces, just like their marriage.

  “How the fuck am I supposed to feel about that? Those bitches never meant more than a quick nut to me. I never gave my heart to any of them, only you!” Brandon cried. His body filled more with hurt than anger.

  Lena and Brandon stared at each other face to face. Both faces filled with raw emotions. There were no words. Lena’s body ached. Her body was hot. She could feel steam rising from her, sweat trickling down her body. She couldn’t be angry, she knew he was right. She loved Denise. If Denise had her, she wouldn’t be standing there right now.

  Brandon’s frustrated expression quickly changed. He took two steps back. A look of pure terror took over his face.

  “Lena!”

  The trickling of sweat wasn’t sweat at all. Lena gasped as she noticed the drops of blood falling from her.

  10

  Denise looked at herself again in the full-length mirror on the hotel room wall. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Her jeans were creased, loose-fitting but still very professional. She opted for one of Cooley’s polo shirts that somehow ended up in her luggage.

  Her eyes weren’t as red or puffy as they were a few hours earlier. She had popped two Tylenol, which helped tremendously. Denise sighed. It was five till show time.

  She walked out of her room. She looked at the numbers on each door. Denise wondered where Lena was. She wondered if she was in one of the rooms in the hotel. She made a mental note to check with the front desk before leaving.

  Denise spotted Mariah’s red hair immediately. She noticed a small, white man dressed in a pair of jeans and a blazer chatting with Mariah. From the two pink cocktails sitting in front of them and his crossed legs, Denise could tell he was family.

  Mariah noticed Denise out of her peripheral. She said something to the gentleman and stood up. Mariah walked over to Denise. A big smile radiated from her face.

  Denise noticed Mariah’s thick legs.

  “Dee, you made it. Great! Come over. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

  They walked over to the gentleman, now sipping his cocktail.

  “Marco, this is who I was telling you about,” Mariah said, holding on to Denise’s arm.

  Marco turned and looked Denise up and down. His eyes widened, and his right lip slanted up. “Well, well, well ... Mariah, you never do me wrong. She’s fabulous.” Marco put his right hand over his face.

  “Hello, I’m Denise.” Denise extended her hand.

  Marco placed his fingers in her hand. “My pleasure. Please have a seat.”

  Mariah and Denise sat down at the table.

  “So, Denise, tell me, have you done any modeling?”

  “Modeling?” Denise said, shocked by the question.

  “No, she hasn’t,” Mariah stepped in. “Which is perfect, ’cause she’s your undiscovered superstar.”

  “I like it. She is stunning. We can try it, test her and see what comes from it. Can you have her at the studio tomorrow morning, by seven?”

  “She will be there.”

  Marco stood up from the table.

  Denise felt dumbfounded. She listened as they mapped out details, discussing her as though she wasn’t sitting next to them. Mariah and Marco gave each other a Hollywood hug and fake kiss on each cheek.

  Marco looked at Denise one more time. “Fabulous. Simply fabulous.” He walked away as his cell phone began to ring.

  Mariah waited until Marco was out of the front door. She turned around toward Denise and squealed. “This is amazing! I told you I would take care of you!”

  “Mariah, what’s going on? I’m not a model.”

  “I know, but you can be. You have the look and you are on your way to landing a serious contract.” Mariah grabbed her bag.

  Denise was hesitant. “Mariah, I don’t know about this. I’m not a model. I can’t walk in heels. I don’t wear dresses.”

  “Denise, come with me.” Mariah began to walk out of the bar. She turned around and looked at Denise, still confused and still sitting in her chair. “Well, are you coming?”

  Denise got up and followed.

  Denise and Mariah walked down the busy Times Square. Denise admired the view. It was beautiful, but dirtier than she’d always imagined. Stands filled with I Love NY merchandise, hot dog stands and more lined the streets. Tourists covered in New York paraphernalia took pictures of
famous buildings.

  Denise noticed the large picture of Diddy. She smiled, thinking about Cooley, who loved anything Diddy.

  “Well, we’re here.” Mariah stood in the middle of the street.

  “Where is here exactly?” Denise said, surveying her surroundings.

  Mariah threw her hands up. “Here, the heart of the city. Look around, do you see all these billboards. Fashion, music, movies, TV ... all meet right here.” Mariah smiled. “Look over there.” Mariah pointed at a long billboard ad for Jocku Couture.

  “Yeah. What about it?”

  “Denise that could be you in a matter of weeks. I was talking to Marco and he was stressing about his campaign. He wasn’t happy with the look and wanted something else. I knew you would be perfect.” Mariah squealed.

  Denise’s eyes widened. She looked at the ad featuring a man and a woman dressed in the Jocku line. “Jocku, that guy was from Jocku?”

  Mariah nodded her head. “You just met Marco Jerroud. The owner and designer of the Jocku brand.”

  “Damn, why didn’t you tell me? I would have done—”

  “Hold it. That is why I didn’t tell you. I wanted you to be relaxed and come as you are. Trust me, I knew he was going to love you. Your face and body, simply stunning.”

  Denise smiled. “Get the fuck out of here. What’s so stunning?”

  “Denise, have you never really looked at your face?” Mariah ran her finger across Denise’s jaw. “You have high cheekbones, flawless skin complexion, height, you’re thin, built right. You are perfect for modeling.”

  “Mariah, I don’t know about this.” Denise took a step back. The whole idea was overwhelming her.Mariah grabbed Denise’s hands. She looked her in her eyes. “Denise, I told you, that I have faith in you and I am not giving up on you. It might not be basketball, but like I told you it could possibly be so much more. The contract with Marco is worth a whole lot more than your basketball contract. I know you are what they are looking for.”

  “I don’t know the first thing about modeling.”

  Mariah smiled. Her red hair blew in the wind. “All I want you to do is go in there and be yourself. Let me handle the rest.”

  Denise opened the door to her room. Things ran through her mind. She pulled her button-down off and threw it on the chair. She sat on the bed. Questions filled her head. Mema entered her head. She could picture her grandmother smiling at her.

  “Mema, this is unreal. If I should wake up and go to this shoot tomorrow please give me a sign.” Denise closed her eyes and opened them back. Nothing happened. She sighed.

  She picked up her remote and turned the wide flat-screen on. Tyra Banks’ face appeared. Denise looked around at her room. She watched as Tyra handed model hopefuls their photos from their shoots for that week. Denise couldn’t help but laugh. She had her sign.

  Cooley sat in Big Ron’s personal lobby. She was nervous. She had never been nervous around him before, even as an intern. She knew that was one of the reasons he liked her, she was down-to-earth and about business. Cooley pushed the nerves to the back of her head and realized she had nothing to be nervous about.

  A Ronnie Marko video came on. She noticed a familiar body lying in a chair. She smirked as she watched Sahara sitting on the beach with her shades on. She knew she was responsible for Sahara getting into videos. She remembered the first time she saw Sahara’s name on MediaTakeOut. The internet blog site gave her a good review, stating that her body was banging harder than the song’s video she was featured on.

  Sahara had been on her mind since she dropped Cooley at her home. She thought about their original meeting, the threesome that changed Cooley’s mind about women. She never felt that way about a woman before then ... until Misha.

  Cooley’s mind went back to the last time she saw Sahara. They made an amazing couple. Everyone said so. She gave it up for Misha. She changed so much of herself for Misha. She wondered if it was time to really concentrate on Sahara the way she probably should have.

  Cooley decided to try to make a date with her, just to see what would happen.

  Cooley’s head turned when she heard a familiar beat coming from Big Ron’s office. It was the track she had created. Her body tensed up, confusion on her face.

  “Cool, he will see you now.” Maranda, Big Ron’s personal assistant and known mistress, smiled.

  “Thank you.” Cooley stood up. The nerves she pushed back were trying to gorilla their way back to the front.

  Cooley opened the big brown door. Big Ron’s office was very impressive. Instead of gold and platinum plaques, his walls were filled with art work and collectible items.

  Cooley’s eyes focused straight on the large Scarface poster. Under it was a glass display box. Inside held one of the original cigars used in the movie. Cooley realized it had to be the female part of her that just didn’t allow her to get excited over Scarface, like almost every man did. She couldn’t count how many houses she’d been to where men created special Scarface rooms or small shrines. Even if they couldn’t afford it all, they at least had the Scarface poster.

  Big Ron looked up at Cooley, his gold grill flashing like a Cheshire Cat. “Aww, lookie here ... our own Scarface.”

  “Ahh, man.” Cooley smiled as Ron’s baritone laughter echoed through the room. Cooley tried to hide her feelings. Her scar was her ultimate soft spot.

  “I couldn’t believe it when I heard it. Did you get the flowers?”

  “Yeah, thank you so much. I was real surprised when I got them.” Cooley eased down in the chair across from his desk.

  “Well, we are glad you are OK. Stop fuckin’ wit’ those crazy bitches and get you one good girl. A God-fearing church woman. That’s what I did.”

  Cooley nodded. She wanted to laugh, knowing that his good church woman had no idea he was banging his assistant every day. “So this track ...”

  Ron smiled. “Thought you would remember it.” Ron pressed stop on the remote. “It’s hot shit, Cool; you did real good with it.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Chill with the sir shit. I think of you as one of my sons ... daughters. Hell, as Cool.” Ron laughed.

  Cooley just shook her head.

  “I can say that Sonic did one thing right, and that was bringing you to Jam Zone. I can’t wait to see what you do with your first artist.”

  “I was going to ask about that. I was interested in going to visit my friend in New York and check out some artist while I was up there.”

  “No need. We got your first artist already.”

  Cooley’s right eyebrow rose like the Rock. “Really?”

  Ron smiled. “Yeah, and that is the track for her first single. Want to hear the song?”

  “Of course.” Cooley sat back in the chair.

  Ron pressed play. The track began to play. Cooley noticed it had been slowed down a bit. A beautiful, soulful voice started to sing. Cooley listened to the words of the song.

  Your face, your voice, your style so fine

  Make me, shake me, take me I’m yours.

  The woman’s voice reminded Cooley of the Songstress from Floetry but with more mainstream sound. The song was sensual, very erotic. There was a familiarity to the voice that turned her on. She loved it.

  “Man, that’s hot. I can’t believe I made that track. Wow.”

  Ron nodded along with the beat. “Thought you would like it.” Ron pressed the stop button. “She is already blowing the minds of people, and we haven’t officially released anything. We got her on a Drake mix tape, and it was on from there. She can sing, dance, and she’s sexy. We got the next Beyoncé on our hands, and I know it.”

  “Wow! I’m excited, Ron, I really am. I can’t wait to meet her.”

  Ron snickered. He pressed the intercom button. “Maranda, send her in.”

  Cooley looked at Ron then looked at the door. She heard the door knob turning.

  “We wanted it to be a surprise. So ... surprise!”

  Cooley’s mouth
hit the floor. Sahara walked in with a big grin on her face. A tall man walked in after her. Cooley recognized his face.

  “Cooley, you know Sahara.” Ron responded. “And this is James; he is the head of your department. He will also be overseeing everything, teaching you the ropes.”

  Cooley bit her lip as she passed Sahara.

  Sahara grinned, excited by her surprise.

  Cooley walked up to James and extended her hand.

  James looked Cooley up and down. His black three-piece suit made him look out of place with the hip-hop crowd that filled the hallways of the building.

  He stared Cooley down. A sly smile appeared. “So, the famous Cooley. The intern turned executive. Our very own P. Diddy.”

  “I wouldn’t say all that.” Cooley pulled her hand, but James held firm.

  “Neither would I, but I guess time will tell.”

  “James, play nice,” Ron interjected. “Cooley is an amazing asset. Put her to good use.”

  “I’m sure I will.” James finally let go of Cooley’s hand. “I have to get back to work. I will see you soon. Sahara, Ron.”

  James’ devilish smile appeared again, causing sirens to go off in Cooley’s head.

  He walked out the door, closing it behind him.

  “What’s his deal?” Cooley asked.

  “Let’s just say that he’s not your biggest fan. He wanted to develop Sahara, but I knew with your dynamic, you would be the right person for the job. Not to mention, he thinks I’m losing my mind for hiring you in your position straight out of school. Hopefully you won’t prove him right.” Ron’s cheery disposition was back in business mode.

  Cooley felt pressure she hadn’t felt before.

  “Oh, Cooley is gonna be great. I know it.” Sahara smiled.

  “Well.” Ron leaned back in his expensive leather chair. “Go out and make some greatness.”

  “Thank you, Ron. I won’t let you down, I promise.”

  “Wait a moment, Cooley. Sahara can you excuse us for a moment?” Ron’s cheery demeanor seemed to change to a more serious nature.