God Don't Like Haters (6 page)

"What about my mixtape?" I cut in. "How am I
gonna work on it if we're on the road?"

"You're mixtape is up next, Kirbie," said
Coras. "We just gotta give mines the biggest push while it's
hot."

"Let all things be done decently and in
order," Ashleigh added with a smile, quoting the Corinthians verse
from the Bible.

This was the second time my mixtape was going
to be pushed to the backburner.

Coras looked at me, reading my
disappointment. He sounded like a politician when he said, "You can
always write on the road. Have Gee Beats download some
instrumentals onto your cellphone. By the time we get back, you
should have half of your mixtape ready. And before I forget, I just
wanted to say I'm proud of you, Kirbie. You've been making it to
the studio on time and making music a priority."

Gee Beats turned the music back on and I
tried to get back in writer mode. But I couldn't. I had too much on
my mind.

Sighing, I picked my phone up and logged
into The Site, something I always did when I had writer's block. I
made a status update about being excited to perform at the Sprint
Center—I tagged Coras and Gee Beats in the post, like always—and
then I went to Archie's profile page. His latest update was ten
minutes ago:

ArchieGotSkittles36:
Missing my woman :(

This post was typical of Archie. We'd argue
and break-up, he'd make a status about being glad I was gone to
rack up Likes from the single-woman Site users, and then days or
weeks later he'd post a stat about how much he missed me.

There was one factor that
seemed to always pull us back together though. And that was
those 
Purple
Gorilla
 pills. We made a good
hustling team, me and Archie. And when we did have our separations,
it was like we were still together because I'd still sell my share
of pills and travel with him to re-cop. Sometimes we rode in
silence and sometimes we rekindled our relationship on those
out-of-town trips. Last night I went to our storage unit and found
him hobbling around inside on crutches. I grabbed a bag of pills
out of the unit and didn't say barely two words to him.

My phone rang. It was Archie.

For a moment I wondered if I should even
answer. Did I really want to jump right back into the same
situation, knowing I was going to be single again as soon as we got
into another argument? This last time it was basically my fault,
getting caught fingering myself to Coras's verse, but who's fault
would it be next time? Because there would be a next time.

There always was.

I looked across the basement and saw Coras
talking to Ashleigh in the corner of the room. It seemed like they
were having some kind of heated debate because Ashleigh looked
close to tears. She was probably complaining to him about playing
second-fiddle to Monifa. I watched him take his finger and lift her
chin gently, edging his lips close to hers.

She turned away.

I asked
myself: 
Kirbie, is that the man
you're waiting for to sweep you off of your feet? You need to come
back down to reality
, 
boo-boo
.

Listening to my phone ring, I finally put it
up to my ear. Archie was all I had.

"Hello?" I answered.

CHAPTER 10

La'Renz "Buddy Rough" Taylor

I was sure the security guard called the police, so
I didn't have a lot of time. As soon as the elevator doors opened,
I walked out onto the top floor and stalked across the room. I kept
an important pace and didn't even turn to look at the workers as
they began to notice who I was. Some of them started standing up at
their desks, gawking and whispering.

"Is that La’Renz Taylor?"

"That 
is 
La'Renz. That's Buddy
Rough."

"He killed his wife. Jazzmine was so
young."

"I can't believe they only gave him seven
years."

I kept walking to where I remembered Eliyah's
grand office to be. Then I opened the door without knocking.

"Yes, we need to broaden our
distribution—"

It was Thomas Dyer in the executive's chair,
not Eliyah. He looked stunned by my presence. I was bothered by
his.

"Let me call you back," he said into the
phone, then hung up and set it on his desk. "What the hell are you
doing in my office? How'd you get past security?"

"Is that any way to talk to your boss?" I
said.

"You're not my boss. I'm CEO here at Mount
Eliyah ENT now."

"I can't believe you, Thomas. You let that
white boy convince you to work for him?"

"This is the biggest hiphop company in the
world, La'Renz. When you went to prison, no one wanted anything to
do with Taylor Music Group. What was I supposed to do? Starve?"

Before prison, I had hired Thomas Dyer as an
A&R for Taylor Music Group. He scouted talent, and he had a
knack for it. I remembered sitting in my office smoking Cuban
cigars with him as we laughed about Eliyah leaving the TMG family
to start his own label. We never guessed the no-rhythm Jewish bitch
would build a rival company in just a few years' time.

Thomas was young back then. He had a goatee
and kept a swirl part in his head. Now the goatee was gone and he
was balding. He looked older than me.

"Why are you here?" Thomas asked me.

"I just wanted to look Eliyah in the face and
tell him that I'm dedicating my life to shutting Mount Eliyah ENT
down. Taylor Music Group is going to rebuild. Success is gonna be
my revenge."

Thomas sighed, as he leaned back in his
office chair and scratched his head. "Eliyah is rarely ever here,
La'Renz. He just bought a pro basketball team and an advertising
company. He's too busy to be here. That's why he hired me."

"Come back to Taylor Music Group, Thomas.
That's where your loyalty is at."

"La'Renz, are you crazy? I don't wanna have
anything to do with you. You killed your wife."

I charged toward Thomas and he sprang up out
of his seat. He snatched his letter opener off of his desk and put
his back against the wall, the sharp end of the letter opener
pointed at me.

I paused. He was trembling.

"You know I didn't kill Jazzmine," I
snarled.

"You pled guilty, La'Renz."

"Because I had to! Eliyah set me up! I would
still be in prison if I went to trial. He knew the prosecuting
attorney on the case. Hell, I didn't trust my own lawyer because he
was buddies with almost every defense attorney in New York and
probably still is. He's Jewish, Thomas. He came from wealth and
political power. He had my wife killed and he framed me!"

Thomas was still trembling with the letter
opener. I knew I could disarm him in three moves and have my knee
on his neck all within 15 seconds, but I didn't want to risk
fucking up my new suit.

"Please-please ... leave," he stuttered.

"You made your choice then," I said, as I
turned and walked out of the office buttoning my suit jacket.
"You're the enemy now."

***

I took the stairs instead of the elevator. I didn't
know if the police were in the building yet, and I had one more
stop to make.

I hurried down just two flights, stopping on
the second floor. Last time I was here the submissions department
was on this level. In the stairwell, I pulled open the second floor
door in an attempt to be discreet, then I went in.

Music was playing on this floor. Rap music. I
looked and saw most of the employees all grouped to one side of the
room, crowding around a young kid with a microphone. This was some
kind of listening party or audition.

Good,
 I thought.

I was able to walk into the submissions area
unseen. Atop several desks were stacks of envelopes and packages
containing CDs and digital files from aspiring musicians from all
over the United States. I knew that all of the top talent in the
country would be submitting here, and I was going to steal some.
Simple as that. Just like Eliyah had done to me. I would need
fresh, undiscovered talent if I wanted the new Taylor Music Group
to be a success.

I grabbed a nearby trash can and dumped all
of the junk in it onto the floor. I started stuffing submissions
into the trash bag, one after another.

"La'Renz?"

I turned and saw a face I hadn't seen in
years—seven to be exact. It was Sundi Ashworth, the woman who I had
cheated on my dead wife with. Many nights I stayed up at night
laying on my bunk, hands crossed behind my head, wondering if I
should have ever slept with her ... wondering if she should be on
my fuck-you list too.

She looked gorgeous today. Long hair, soft
butter skin dressed in a blouse, pencil skirt and high heels. She
had aged beautifully. Seven years would put her at 27 years
old.

"Hey, stranger," I said, as I kept stuffing
my bag.

"La'Renz, what are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm
scouting talent."

"You could get arrested for this?"

"Not if I move fast enough."

"When did you get out?" she asked me.

"Like you care."

She never wrote me one time. She never came
to see me either. And I had given her a chance in the music
industry when no one else would. She had been my secretary at
Taylor Music Group. She had no credentials—no college degree, no
previous experience, no recommendations. Just a 20-year-old pretty
face who knew how to dress.

"So you're working for the enemy too, huh?" I
said. "You and Thomas sure know the meaning of loyalty."

"La'Renz, I had bills."

"Mount Eliyah ENT is the only place in town
that can pay your bills?"

"They have the best opportunities here.
Eliyah hired me as an A&R, not a secretary."

My bag was getting full. I gave it a tug,
testing its weight. It was way too heavy, but I still picked it up
over my shoulder. Black Santa in an Armani suit.

"Do you think I killed Jazzmine too?" I asked
her.

"It's none of my business."

"We had an affair together. It should be your
business."

Her lips went tight. That gesture brought
back so many memories. She always got tight-lipped when she was
offended. It was her way of stopping herself from saying the first
thing that came out of her mouth, which was usually negative.

Damn, she's beautiful!

I adjusted the bag on my shoulder, trying to
distribute the weight evenly. "Are you gonna try and stop me from
taking these packages?"

"No," she said.

"Well, can you get the fuck outta my way?
This shit ain't getting lighter."

She stepped to the side and I walked past
her, heading back to the stairwell.

"La'Renz."

I stopped and turned. I
said 
What? 
with my eyes.

"My Site name is still SundiTaylor718," she
said. “I didn’t change the Taylor.”

I turned back around and kept walking. "You
should have," I said over my shoulder.

GabbyTV:
 I got a muthafucking
ANNOUNCEMENT! La'Renz "Buddy Rough" Taylor is a free man! Sources
say that on La'Renz's second day out of the slammer he acted a
fool. Lol! Allegedly he stormed into Mount Eliyah ENT with a gun
and threatened to shoot several security guards. He then went to
the top floor looking for Eliyah Golomb himself but was attacked
with a knife by his former friend Thomas Dyer. Unfortunately Thomas
Dyer refused to respond to our requests for comment but I will keep
you posted, folks. Look out! La'Renz is on a rampage. The hiphop
world is no longer safe! AND I LOVE IT!

CHAPTER 11

Kirbie Amor Capelton

"This is our first night back together and you're on
your phone," Archie said to me, as he set a plate of food in front
of me at the dinner table.

I heard him, but I was still trying to finish
reading the article.

"Kirbie, I'm talking to you."

"One more minute," I said, irritated. "It's a
breaking news story."

The internet had gone viral with reports
that La'Renz "Buddy Rough" Taylor had been released from prison and
had already jumped back into his "rough" ways. Reportedly, he
barged into Mount Eliyah ENT with a gun and tried to take over the
whole record label single-handedly. I was only 11 years old when
La'Renz went to jail for killing his young wife, but I knew his
whole story. Anybody with internet access and a love for hiphop
knew that La'Renz had been a phenomenal music industry mogul until
he developed a coke habit.

"So that gossip shit is more important than
us rekindling our relationship?" Archie asked me.

"This isn't gossip," I said. "This is
facts."

"No, it's not, Kirbie. It's entertainment.
It's a bunch of lies to convince you to buy their product."

"This is a GabbyTV article I'm reading.
She's not selling nothing. She's a celebrity blogger, just letting
you know what's going on behind the scenes in the music industry. I
need to know this stuff if I plan to be successful when my music
career takes off."

Archie gave me a doubtful
look. It was a non-believer look—the same look I got from everybody
when I told them I was an aspiring singer.
 
Hardly anyone believed in
being rich and famous anymore.

"Can you set the phone aside for one minute,
Kirbie? That article will be there after we finish eating."

I set my phone down on the table and scooted
my chair closer, conceding. "Thank you for preparing this meal,
Archie."

"You're very welcome," he smiled.

Archie knew how to cook. On
my plate was one of those mid-morning gourmet cooking show meals. I
had lemon butter grilled tilapia on my plate, barbecued popcorn
shrimp with macaroni and mashed potatoes. It was his best yet. And
he had moved around the kitchen fairly well on his bad leg without
crutches. But like normal at the dinner table, we talked about what
he wanted to talk about—selling 
Purple Gorilla
 ecstasy pills.
He wanted to know my opinion on scaling down the ecstasy operation
and delving into cocaine.