Thug Matrimony (9 page)

“I put those numbers in your in-box this morning. Do we have enough press for them? I think they need more radio play, it’s like they’re teasing their fans,” Angel told him.

“Shit, what artist couldn’t use more press and radio play? I’m on it, though,” Kaylin stated matter-of-factly.

“What’s the A-and-R guy up to, Perry G? You like him?”

“It’s only been three weeks, Red.”

“Three weeks! All that jawing he was doing? All of them connections he’s supposed to have? All the people he knows? I need to see some results!” Angel wasn’t going for the bullshit.

“Damn, I’ve created a monster,” Kaylin joked.

“I’ll give him one more week. Then I think we should get someone else. I like Jet and Aja, the brother and sister team.
Them crackers at the label where they are ain’t paying them shit.” She paused to bite into her sandwich. “And, baby, stop being so charitable. I told you that nigga Perry G wasn’t right.”

“I feel you. Now eat up. I told you that hiring Perry G was a favor I owed. Since he failed his probationary period, my debt is paid. They knew he was a loser, that’s why they dumped him off. We’ll give shorty another week and if he don’t produce we’ll holla at that sister and brother team. Two heads are always better than one.”

The investigation offices of Ross, Ross & Davis always delivered. Their specialty was criminal law and private investigations. Davina Ross went to law school with Angel and they always kept in contact with each other. So it was not a problem when Angel requested her firm’s expertise. By the following Monday, Davina gave Angel a phone number for the mysterious Lil’E.

Since Kaylin, Angel, and Tim Cohen had to take an unexpected trip to Canada, to meet with the owners of the small independent label, Touch Records, and since Angel’s mission was to look over their books and get a feel of the owners, she did that and left the following morning. Plus, she had the appointment with Planned Parenthood with Carmen. They assigned the meeting with Lil’E to the loud, obnoxious wannabe A&R bigshot Perry G. This was his test.

Perry G and his two flunkies barged into Junior’s in Brooklyn as if they were the record label owners, not the employees. Perry G scanned the room and didn’t see a rapper who would look like a Lil’E. He heard Lil’E rap on the airwaves and no one fit the description that he had conjured up in that big little head of his. So what he did was get a table and order him and his crew a hefty dinner. He did, however, feel he needed to place a call into the office.

“Game Over Records. This is Bobbi. How may I direct your call?”

“Yo, this is Perry G. Put me through to the boss man,” he ordered.

“Mr. Santos is out of town. What is this in reference to?”

“If he’s out of town, why do you want to know?”
Click.
The line went dead. “That bitch hung up on me,” he yelled in disbelief as he dialed the office again.

“Game Over Records. This is Bobbi. How may I direct your call?”

“Why you hang up, yo?”

“To teach you some manners. Now, allow me take you to school. I am the gatekeeper. Ninety percent of the goings-on in this office comes through me. Now let’s try this again. What is this call in reference to?”

Perry G sighed and explained that he needed to talk to Kaylin because they were at the spot to meet Lil’E but he never showed.

“Now, was that so hard?” She sucked her teeth. “Like I told you, the boss man is out of town. However, the boss lady is on standby. I know that she gave you her cell number, so I suggest that you use it. Have a good day.”
Click

“That bitch!” he yelled into the disconnected line. He pushed the speed-dial key for Angel.

“Hello.”

“Miss Angel, this is Perry G. How you doin’?”

“What’s up?”

“I’m at Junior’s and that dude Lil’E never showed.”

“He didn’t?” Angel couldn’t mask her surprise. When she spoke to him, he didn’t sound like someone who wouldn’t show up for a big opportunity like this. “How long have you been waiting?”

“For almost an hour,” he lied.

“Aiight, sit tight. I’ll call you back.”

“Cool.”

Angel hung up, pulled over on the side of the road, and yanked out her day planner to get Lil’E's number.

“Yeah,” Lil’E answered on the first ring.

“Lil’E. This is Angel from Game Over. What’s good? You said Junior’s at four!”

“I’m here, yo.” His raspy voice sounded excited. “I’ve been here. Nobody showed.”

“Shit. Look around, see if you spot a high-yellow cat, flamboyant, he always has on a multicolored silk shirt and most likely has two young cats with him. One is dark-skinned and he—”

“Yeah. I see ‘em. They just rolled in not too long ago.” E burst into laughter. “Yo, he works for you?”

Angel laughed too. “Not really. But do me a favor, give me about forty minutes. Order whatever you want. You solo?”

“Of course.”

“Cool, enjoy your meal but don’t say anything to those three clowns. I’ll take care of them when I get there. Can you handle that?”

“I got chu.”

“That’s what’s up. Just tell the waitress you’re waiting on Angel Santos.” Angel immediately dialed Kaylin.

“Baby, what’s good? You all right?” Kaylin asked his wife.

Angel sighed. “You’re not going to believe this.”

“What?” Kaylin asked in alarm. “Where are you?”

“I just got back into the city. I took Carmen to Planned Parenthood, got her an exam and some birth control pills. Thank God she isn’t pregnant. But the drug test? That shit was a whole ‘nother story. This little hooker had coke, weed, and E all up in her piss. I am so fucking mad at her, Kaylin, I could scream.”

“Yo, how did you handle it?” When she didn’t respond he snapped, “Red, you pregnant, Ma. You can’t be brawling and shit! You risking the baby’s life now! You gonna fuck around and I’ma lock your ass in the house and won’t let you come out!” he seethed.

“Kaylin, calm down. I smacked her when we got back in the car, but we didn’t fight. I told her I was too angry to deal with her right then. I dropped her off and I left. Okay?”

“Red, don’t make me—”

“I heard you, Kaylin, damn. But check this out,” Angel continued. “Your boy Perry G calls me up and says that he’s been at Junior’s for an hour and Lil’E didn’t show up. So I calls him and I’m like what’s good? You said Junior’s at four, and guess what?”

“What?”

“Dude is sitting right there in Junior’s looking at Perry G and his flunkies. He said that they just got there. Just like we figured, he got a half-assed work ethic. That nigga was supposed to go to each patron and ask, ‘Your name Lil’E’ or sumthin?”

“Aw, hell no. That nigga fuckin’ with my money like that?”

“Baby, I told you he was all talk. But check it, I told him to order and sit tight, that I was on my way. And I’m getting ready to call Perry back and thank him for nothing.”

“Yo, don’t say shit about him being out of a gig. I want that nigga to show up at the office so I can put my foot in his ass.”

“Do you, Kay. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done with Lil’E.”

“Yo, don’t be flirting with that lil’ rap nigga, neither.”

“Whatever. Why not? You ain’t fuckin’ with me like that, remember? Besides, I need to find out if I still got it.”

“Red, don’t get fucked up.”

“Whatever.”
Click

“What the fuck?” Kaylin called back. “Yo, Red, don’t make me fuck ya up about that bullshit you spittin’.”
Click
He hung up, furious.

Angel called Perry G and thanked him for showing up.

Kaylin’s cell chimed as soon as he hung up with Angel. “Yo.”

“Big money, this me, Pras.”

“What’s brewin’ down in the MIA?” Kaylin asked his and Trae’s homey from way back.

“Yo, nigga. I think this the break you been having a hard-on for. Check it. I’m hearing shit about some new player with a snakeskin patch on his eye.”

“Word?” This news caused Kaylin to stand up.

“But the only reason I’m not sure if this is yo’ man is you said the cat’s name is Snake. But this cat said his name, and you ain’t gonna believe this, son.”

“Nigga, spit it out!”

“He said his name is K, yo.” You could hear a pin drop. Pras broke the silence. “Man, this nigga is either crazy as fuck or you got the wrong cat. But check it, we still on it. But I figured you wanted an update. You know I got chu, just say when.”

“Aiight, nigga. You know what it is.”

“All day and all night.” Pras was gone.

Kaylin hung up, saying, “What the fuck?”

When Angel walked into Junior’s, she told the waitress that she was Angel Santos and that she had a party of one waiting on her. The waitress motioned for her to follow her. As usual Perry G stood out like a sore thumb.

“Excuse me. Just point me to my party please. I need to say sumthin to these gentlemen right here.”

The waitress pointed to a small boy with a hoodie over his head. “Right there.”

“Thank you.” Angel flashed a smile at her.

When Perry G looked up and saw Angel standing in front of him he began to stutter. “M-M-Miss A-Angel. What are you doing here?” He tried to get himself together.

“I was hoping to meet Lil’E. But since he is a no show, I might as well get me sumthin to eat.” She looked at the empty dishes. “If you guys are done now I’ll take care of the tab.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re done.” Perry G stood up and his sidekicks, an Omar Epps reject and an older cat who resembled Danny Glover, followed suit. Perry G wasn’t about to pass up a free meal.

“Thanks for coming,” she told them, wanting them to leave.

“No problem. It’s my job,” Perry said as he handed the bill to Angel. “I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”

She smirked as she watched them leave. Angel headed over to
Lil’E. Her stomach growled as her tastebuds and senses smelled French fries and fried chicken.

When she arrived at the table Angel said to Lil’E, whose back was turned, “Excuse me. I’m Angel, are you—”

“I’m Lil’E.” She tossed her hoodie back. Lil’E was a female … rockin’ blond braids and blue eyes.

“O
h, shit!” was all Angel could get out. Lil’E sat there with a smirk on her face.

“You’re Lil’E?” Lil’E mocked because she knew Angel was shocked.

“Well, are you?” Angel couldn’t help but smile. Lil’E nodded yes. “Get the fuck outta here!” Angel had to take a seat.

This was indeed a surprise. Angel motioned for the waitress. “Can I have two slices of pineapple cheesecake, a plate of fries, and a mocha cappuccino?” She looked over at Lil’E and asked, “You straight?”

“I’ll have a vanilla cappuccino.”

The waitress nodded, took Angel’s menu, and disappeared.

“You know I’m still in shock, right?” Angel confessed.

“Yeah, but it’s cool.”

“My husband … I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I tell him you’re not only a female but a white chick.” Angel was looking her over trying to figure out who she resembled. She did know that she was a tomboy. “Are you gay?”

Lil’E laughed. “Nah, I’m not gay. Even though I may act like a boy, I’m strictly dickly. That’s why I’m in the predicament I’m in. I love dick … black dick at that.” She figured since Angel was keeping it gully she might as well do the same. Plus, it felt good
to talk to another woman, a seemingly strong, powerful, positive woman. Angel’s vibe gave off the feelings of confidence and said,
I got it goin’ on.
And Lil’E liked that feeling.

“Oookay,” Angel said. Just then the waitress came and set Angel’s cheesecake and fries in front of her as well as both cups of cappuccino. Angel was still looking Lil’E over. Her mind, going over the possibilities, was traveling a mile a minute. “You know who you look like?”

“I know who you’re going to say.” E’s eyes rolled upward.

“Who?” Angel indulged in a mouthful of cheesecake.

“Nah. Go ahead. You tell me.”

“Alicia Keyes. You get that often?”

“Yeah.” E smirked.

“Why do you have that hoodie on, covering yourself up? You’re beautiful! The hoodie makes you look crazy like my husband.” She smiled.

“I saw your husband. He doesn’t look crazy. He is fine!”

“Where did you see him?”

“Felon, FEDS, Don Diva. One of them. He was in a flick with Fat Joe and Angie Martinez.”

“Well, you said you like black dick but that’s one black dick that is off-limits.”

Lil’E chuckled. “I was just testing you. I’m not grimey like that.”

“Good. Then we should get along just fine. And I see you got a little sense of humor. Tell me sumthin about you. What is your real name?”

“Lily Penzera.”

“Penzera. You’re Italian?”

“Yeah. But according to my grandmother my mom was white and my dad’s Italian.”

“Where are they?”

“My mom passed away when I was fourteen. My dad was just a sperm donor. I’ve been living with my grandma out in Hoboken.”

“How old are you?”

“Just turned eighteen yesterday.”

“Oh. Happy belated.”

“Thanks,” she answered dryly.

“How long have you been blessin’ the mic?”

“Since I was nine, ten.”

“How did you get so … good?” Angel laughed because she didn’t know what other word to use. “You are amazing. You got my husband and everybody else going crazy over you. Why don’t you have a deal? I mean, I know cats have been coming at you left and right.”

“I already have one,” she said with much disdain. “And yeah, a lot of labels have been trying to sign me but I’m in a jam. My hands are tied.”

“Who signed you?”

“Phillip Johnson over at Tyrant Music Limited.”

“Oh my gosh! That creep?” Angel was shocked.

Phillip Johnson was the East Coast version of Suge Knight. But the difference was, not only was he a bully but he was down right grimey, and the whole industry knew it. What earned him a permanent spot on Angel’s shit list was when he tricked those artists on lockdown to sign a contract. He promised them the world. One of them wrote several lyrics and hooks for his other artists and got nothing. The guy was riding the subway and living at his mother’s. The other cat, a producer, upon his release went to the label, produced tracks for another artist that went platinum, and wasn’t even on the album credits. Now he was working a construction job. And they both were still locked into a contract with Phillip Johnson.