2
“…I think that’s all I had on our agenda for today. Oh, wait…I rescheduled your maternity photo shoot for this weekend like you asked,” I said, my eyes glued to the agenda on my iPad.
Jo finished chewing the rest of her apple and rubbed her humongous belly. “Good! I’m so glad we got that worked out since Everett couldn’t reschedule his appearance on that show. He tried to back out, but I wouldn’t let him. His fans would’ve had a fit.”
“Yeah, I know. Folks love them some Big South, and he’s talking about retiring, too? That might be one of his last shows.”
She shook her head as she popped a grape into her mouth. I swear this baby made her eat all damn day! “Girl, please. The way he stays in the studio, he ain’t retiring from nothing. He’ll probably just do shorter tours or something.”
“I don’t know, Jo. He really hates leaving you, and it’ll be hard to tour with two kids.”
She shrugged as she grabbed a banana from a bowl on the coffee table in front of us. “We’ll see.”
“Yeah.”
“So, how was your audition from earlier today?” Jo garbled through a mouth full of banana.
“It—”
Her doorbell cut me off, and then she just sat there and looked at me.
Rolling my eyes, I said, “I’ll get it.”
She swallowed her food, gave me a huge grin, and said, “Thanks, Bridge.”
I rolled my eyes again, and mumbled, “Lazy, pregnant, always-eating ass…”
“Uh, I heard that!” she yelled at my back.
“Good!” I replied, as I made it to the door and checked the peephole, knowing whoever it was had already been cleared by Chink, their bodyguard who was manning the gate that day. I guess it was just a habit since I still lived out in the regular world where you had to fend for yourself.
Seeing that it was Nolan, with his fine ass—all the McClain brothers were fine, by the way; even Neil with his tortured self—I opened the door and smiled at him. Nolan was a nice guy if a little artless at times. I liked him.
“Hi,” he said, returning my smile.
“Hey, Nolan. Come on in.”
Stepping over the threshold and into the foyer holding a leather satchel, his eyes never left me. If I didn’t know he had a thing for clear women, I’d almost think—
“Hi,” he repeated, still smiling.
I took him in, all of him—smooth toasted brown skin, neat mustache and goatee framing his full lips, thick eyebrows, eyelashes I’d pay good money to have glued to mine, piercing dark eyes, and hair in a precise Caesar cut. He was in his usual attire—buttoned up but not quite formal. His style was that of a relaxed businessman—usually rocking a suit with no tie—well-groomed, expensive-looking, and he always smelled divine. He was about an inch taller than me, and I could tell there was a nice body under his clothes. If Nolan McClain liked black women, I would’ve gladly rocked his whole world, because everything about him turned me on. He ticked off all the boxes for my prototype of the perfect man.
“Hey,” I said. This entire exchange was awkward as hell, though. You’d think he didn’t know how to interact with a woman, but I’d seen him talk to his sister, Jo, and Leland’s wife, Kim, plus his harem of comrades plenty of times, and he never seemed this odd. He was actually pretty articulate and very intelligent. Maybe it was me…
“Who is it—oh, hey, Nolan! You looking for Everett?” Jo’s voice echoed in the foyer.
“Uh, yeah. He here?” he responded, still looking at me. Almost in a flirty way. But…nah.
“Mm-hmm. He’s in his office.”
“Uh, thanks. See you ladies later,” he said, giving me another smile before heading down the hall.
I lifted a brow and stared down at my short friend. “How you gonna have me answer the door then waddle your ass in here anyway?”
She shrugged. “I wanted to see who it was.”
“I swear I don’t know why I deal with you.”
“Because you love me, and I pay you well.”
“The second part is true.”
“Hateful heifer. Come on and take me to get a burger. Then we can pick Nat up from daycare, and on the way, you can finally tell me what you and Nolan were talking about at Leland’s and Kim’s party last week.”
“There’s nothing to tell. He was asking me about that new Michael B. Jordan movie. He wanted to know if I’ve seen it and what I thought about it.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah. What’d you think we were talking about?”
“I don’t know, but you looked irritated. I thought maybe he was hitting on you or something.”
“Would you quit that? How was he gonna be hitting on me when his Red Sparrow was a few feet away from us?”
“Because he likes you. How many times I gotta tell you that?”
“He likes pastry, not sweet potato pie. Croissants, not cornbread. Kale, not collard greens. Ham and cheese, not ham hocks. Mayonnaise not sandwich spread. You really need to stop playing with my emotions, anyway, bad as I want me a McClain brother, knowing you and your sister-in-law got the only two viable ones.”
“Nope. He likes you and he’s your type.”
As I stated before, he really was my type, but I wasn’t going to admit it. “So, he’s supposed to like me because Leland told South he saw him looking at my booty? He was probably trying to figure out if this out-of-control thing is real. I really have got to do something about my ass. I mean, I know I look good, and in any other career, it’d be an asset, but I’m an actress, a fucking thespian, not an Instagram model! It doesn’t go with my body at all…”
“I’ll trade you your ass for my stomach.”
“Hell no. You can keep that. It looks like you’re having triplets.”
“I knoooooow. Damn those Big South genes!”
“That baby prolly gonna come out six-four with a goatee and some bass in his—or her—voice.”
“Shut up, hooker,” she groaned, as she rubbed her stomach again. “Back to the issue at hand: why were you looking so crazy when Nolan was talking to you at the party, then?”
“I don’t know. Tommy was there, and I had gotten used to not seeing him since he moved to St. Louis. It just felt…weird.”
“You miss him?”
“I miss his penis.”
“Bridgette!”
“What? You asked. Wait, was that your stomach growling? Out loud?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I’m starving.”
“You’ve been eating since I got here!”
“Don’t you think I know that? Come on, let’s go get this burger and then hurry back because I need to attack Everett after I eat. I am so horny right now.”
“Shit, I bet you are. Look, you’re gonna have to start paying me extra for these food runs, and you know good and well you can’t leave without security. You ain’t gonna have Big South jumping on me.”
“Ugh! Let me text Oba so he can drive us.”
“And you’re buying me a shake.”
“Them shakes are responsible for that ass Nolan is so fond of.”
“You really need to quit,” I sighed, as I followed her out the front door.
“So we’re actually doing this? We’re casting Honey Combs as the lead? Shit.” Everett shook his head as he stared down at the paperwork I’d brought with me.
“It’s smart business, Ev. She’s a star with a huge fan base. That’s guaranteed ticket sales and a selling point for negotiating a distribution deal. And did you look at her reels?”
He dragged his hand down his face. “Yeah. She can act. Shocked the hell outta me considering she can’t sing for shit. All she does is whisper in the microphone. Her fans are crazy.”
“Yeah, her voice is trash, but shit, she ain’t gotta sing in the movie. Her momager said she’s specifically looking for parts with no singing involved.”
“Probably because her ass knows she can’t sing.”
“Hell, she’s got to know.”
“What you offer her?”
“Turn the page.”
He did, then looked up at me. “For real? And she accepted it? How the fuck you get her management to agree to this?”
I shrugged. “You know me. I get shit done.”
“What you promise, Nole?”
“Uh, I had to guarantee roles for her sisters.”
“Shit. Can they even act?”
“I have no idea.”
“Nole, man…”
“No, listen…Jazz, Honey’s character, has three sisters, right? Candy and Sugar are gonna play two of her sisters.”
He sighed. “At least they’re small roles. One of the sisters doesn’t even speak through the whole movie.”
“Ev, do I look stupid? I wasn’t giving all three of them big roles and letting them screw them up. The name of the movie is Floetic Lustice, not Confection. I ain’t letting them take over this thing.”
“You talk to Adams? He on board with Honey playing his love interest?”
I nodded as I reclined in my chair. “I thought it was gonna be a hard sell, because you know he wanted a dark-skinned chick to play Jazz, but as it turns out, he was good with it. Said his wife would be more comfortable with someone like Honey.”
“Yeah, Honey is the polar opposite of his wife. You seen her? Tall, dark, real pretty.”
“Of course I have. She signed on to do wardrobe, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah. So, Mr. Casting Director, have you found someone to play Cynthia, Jazz’s BFF?”
“Uh, yeah. That’s a huge role, and we need an experienced actress to fill it, so I was thinking Jo’s friend, Bridgette, would be perfect for it.”
“Word?”
“Yeah. Don’t you think so?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know you’d seen her in action. Did she submit her reels or something?”
“Naw, I checked out that movie she was in that you produced. She really stood out.”
“Oh, a’ight. You gonna just…offer the role to her unsolicited?”
“I was thinking maybe you could…”
Everett just sat there and stared at me.
“What? You don’t wanna offer it to her? You think she’s wrong for it?” I asked.
“Naw, I think she’d be great, and I’m cool with offering her the part. I’ll contact her agent, but you know…it’d be cheaper for you to just ask her out, Nole.”
“What?”
“You like her, don’t you? Tell the truth. That’s why you’re giving her this part.”
I shrugged. “No—I mean, she’s a good actress, and she’s-she’s…cool.”
He kept staring at me.
“Damn, man! Shit! Okay, I like her,” I confessed. “What of it?”
Everett tilted his head to the side and stretched his eyes wide. “I don’t know. Just can’t believe it. It’s crazy.”
“How is it crazy? She’s attractive and talented, got a great personality. What straight man wouldn’t be interested in her?”
“One who don’t like black women.”
“Who said I don’t like black women?”
“You always walking around with them Bulgarian chicks said it.”
“They’re Russian, Ev. How many times I gotta tell you that?”
“Shit, ain’t that the same thing?”
“Really, Ev?”
He shrugged.
“Anyway, I love black women. I have my reasons for not dating them.”
“But you wanna date Bridgette?”
This time, I shrugged.
“What does that mean? A shrug ain’t an answer, Nolan.”
“Didn’t you just shrug?”
“Yeah, but I ain’t the one with the MBA. Use some of them educated words you love using when you’re doing business and explain this shit to me.”
“I-shit, I don’t know if I can date her.”
He frowned. “What you mean?”
“I mean, every time I approach her or try to have a conversation with her, I freeze up, fumble my words, and start talking about stupid, unimportant stuff.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know? Out of practice, I guess.”
He leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “I told your ass about that point-and-click fucking you been doing.”
“And I told your ass I don’t do online dating or whatever.”
“Then how the hell you find that many Croatian chicks that like black dudes?”
“Can we get back to the subject at hand? What I’m saying is, since I don’t really have to try with the women I usually date, I feel kind of awkward around her.”
“Then stop feeling awkward, nigga. Bridgette is cool people. I mean, shit...black women don’t attack on sight. They ain’t all angry bitches like they’re stereotyped to be.”
“I know that.”
“Then just talk to her. You the smoothest nigga I know. Hell, you almost as smooth as me, can always talk your way into or out of anything, by far the smartest McClain brother. Work your magic on her. Ain’t no need in you being nervous.”
“You’re right, man. Thanks.”
“Oh, and look, if you serious about getting with her, you gonna have to stop bringing them Slovakian motherfuckers with you everywhere you go. It’s hard to shoot your shot when it looks like you already got a woman. Ain’t no woman—black, white, or green—going for that shit. At least any woman worth having would have a problem with that.”
I nodded. “I know. I just…”
“Don’t like being alone. I know. But you gotta make sacrifices for what you want. If you really want her, and you show her that, then you won’t have to be alone for long.”
“You really think so? You think I have a real chance with her?” I asked.
“Nigga, you’re a McClain man. Hell yeah, you got a chance! Now, let’s get back to work. Who we got playing Jazz’s mama?”
I shrugged again, staring down at the stack of papers before me on the edge of Everett’s desk. “I was thinking Esther would work for that role.”
He shot straight to his feet. “Hell. Fucking. Naw! You must be done lost your got-damn mind!”
I fell back in my chair, finally breaking character and laughing so hard that tears filled my eyes. “I’m just messing with you, big brother. Calm your big ass down!”
Everett fell back into his chair, and mumbled, “Man, don’t be playing with me like that.”
I couldn’t stop laughing as we continued our meeting.