I'll Be Down for You: A Bay Area Saga (12 page)

We did a lot of smiling on the way inside the club from all the catcalls from boys. I waved and spoke back to a few, but kept it moving. I needed to get inside and see what all the options were before I settled on one—
if
I settled on one. Desi wasn’t lying though, I saw a few fine ones and we weren’t even in good yet.

The strobe lights were in full effect inside. The club had three levels and there were wall to wall people. At first sight, I was a little nervous because I never liked crowds too much because crazy shit could happen and nobody would see shit because the minute commotion started, everybody would scatter and it would be hard to tell who the culprit was. But I was trying to think past all of that. I’ll admit that the setup was nicer than I thought it would be on the inside. For some reason, whenever I thought of motorcycles, I thought of old ass white dudes leaned back on big ass hogs wearing bandanas and smelling like cigarettes, liquor and oil. But black people knew how to do shit in style. That was just the reality of the situation. Nobody was fuckin’ with us on making shit appealing—especially when it came to partying and flossing and all that shit.

Desiree had her hand inside mine leading me through as we navigated our way up to the upper level. When we got up there, my anxiety decreased and I was put at ease. It wasn’t as packed as it was downstairs, and not just that, we had a front row seat to people-watch. We went over to the bar and ordered drinks, and then managed to find one of the tall tables with stools to sit at. The deejay was good and seemed to have Bay Area rap in heavy rotation, and that was never a bad thing. But when he switched it up and “No Bullshit” came on, Desiree turned toward me and gave me a knowing look before smirking and rolling her eyes. She knew I was something like obsessed with Chris Brown’s fine ass.

“Whatever, girl!” I exclaimed. I raised my hands over my head and started swaying to the music, snapping my fingers, and singing along with the lyrics.

Somewhere near the end of the song, a cute guy approach. He was brown-skinned, nice physique, somewhere around 5’10, nicely dressed and smelling all kinds of good. I smiled at Desi when I saw him lean into her ear and say something. She turned around to look at him and then nodded her head, while preparing to get off her stool and follow him somewhere. She signaled to me with her finger letting me know that she’d be back in a minute. He smiled in my direction as they walked off to the balcony that was near where we sat.

A short while later, I turned in the direction of the balcony to see if Desiree was headed back my way. When I didn’t see her, I scanned the immediate area to see if they were inside, but I still didn’t spot her. I was starting to become alarmed and pulled out my cell to call her phone. But then I thought about how loud it was in there and that she might not hear her phone, so I gave up the seats and went in search of her instead.

“Hey!” I heard coming from behind me.

I snapped my head around and was met with an approaching Desiree. “Where the hell did you go, Desiree? You just taking off and shit knowing I don’t know no damn body here!”

“I’m sorry! That was one of Nick’s boys asking me about Nick! I’ll tell you about it a little later!” she insisted.

But minutes after she got back, the same guy returned to our table and stood on the other side facing me, and then waved. I returned the gesture.

“How you doin’?!” he asked, leaning in close. I looked over at Desiree and she had a goofy ass smile on her face that I couldn’t really read. 

“I’m good! And you?!” I didn’t know what he had in mind but I sure as hell wasn’t about to sit there and attempt a conversation in a loud ass club where I had to compete with treble and major bass.

“I’m cool! Can I holler at you real quick?!”

I really didn’t feel like abandoning my seat and especially if dude was talking about going outside, but I figured why not. He was cute as fuck and he smelled good…two things I kinda dug a little bit. What could it hurt? Before I even tapped Desi on her shoulder, she waved me off with a smile. “Just don’t disappear for hella long!”

“Oh, I ain’t you! I’ll be right back!”

Outside, he leaned against a thick railing and smiled at me. I got to see clearer what he looked like since there was lighting outside. The smile was nice, the eyes were mysterious and dark, and he had deep waves in his immaculate low-cut fade. He didn’t have any facial hair which gave him a ‘baby face’ appeal.

After staring at me for a few seconds, he introduced himself. “I’m Dominic, but everybody calls me Dom. You can use either,” he offered. Then he caught me off guard. “You are so beautiful, Jazz. Curvy in all the right places,” he complimented, as he scanned my body’s full length. “Pretty hair.”

He was staring at me like I was on his favorite restaurant’s menu. I didn’t know if I was flattered or uncomfortable. “Thank you, Dom. I see Desiree already gave you my name,” I chuckled. “When did y’all squeeze that in?” I asked curiously.

“Somewhere between me asking her where my dude is and her telling me that she had to get back before you put an APB out on her,” he laughed.

“Your
dude
…?”

“Not like that! I can tell you that!” he laughed. “I’m talking about my boy Nick. I ain’t heard from that dude in a few days and was asking Desiree if she’d heard from him.”

“Oh, okay. He’s grown, right?”

“Ha! That’s funny.”

“I’m just sayin’ though,” I commented, laughing just a little bit. “He might just need some time alone.”

“Yeah, could be anything with that nigga. Never know.”

I was half joking and half serious when I asked him, “So, he just up and disappeared?”

“Seems like,” he chuckled. “But that nigga probably dipped to Vegas for a few days. It wouldn’t be the first time. Just kinda odd that the nigga ain’t at least answering his cell or checked in. I told Desiree she must have that nigga’s head spinnin’ and he needed to get away and regroup.”

“I doubt it,” I started laughing. “I met your friend and he don’t seem like the type to be that wrapped up in anything or anybody.”

“You’d be surprised, Jazz.”

“Well, you know better than me. I hope he’s good wherever he is. I’m sure y’all will have a whole lot to talk about when he comes back.”

“Yeah, I’m sure of that too. Right now though, I wanna see if I can get to know you a little bit before I try to ask you on a date somewhere nice with seafood and expensive wine and shit like that.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He smiled at me again; he knew he had sex appeal. He probably had girls going crazy over him all the time. He was interesting to watch. “Cool,” he replied. “Your girl told me that you’re a college-educated woman. What you studying?”

I had told Desiree before we left to not go divulging information about me to any of these people, and here she was running her mouth like diarrhea.

“You mean she stopped there? She told you I’m college-educated, but didn’t give up no more of my life?”

He produced a thin smile, then remarked, “That was all she gave me. I told her I would see if I could get the rest from you myself.”

“Okay, well, she’s right. I am college educated. I have a master’s in business from Stern.
But
…I got some ‘
street
’ education too. I won’t ever credit my knowledge to an institution for higher learning. So, let’s just say that I’m educated.” Before I even finished my sentence, I heard myself switch gears. The same gears I often had to switch to in front of professors and anybody else who wasn’t a part of my regular everyday life. I didn’t think I ever did it, but talking to him, I realized that I did. A part of me always got defensive when people threw the whole degree thing in there like being taught by books was what made muthafuckas smart. I hated that shit. I mean, my uncle paid a lot of money for my schooling. But honestly, the only thing I felt that I didn’t have
before
five years of school, was how shit like Theory and different processes around business worked. Outside of that, my common sense and street sense were the key ingredients to who I had become.

“Stern, huh? That’s at NYU, right?”

Woww!
I won’t lie; I was shocked as hell that he knew where Stern was. I purposely didn’t say NYU to keep some kind of label off of it.

“Yeah…” I smiled. “It’s NYU.”

“Shocked I know that, huh?”

“Kinda.”

“I can see that. We ain’t all hood out here. Some of us got a little pedigree. Just so happens, my sister graduated from Stern some years ago.”

“Nice.”

“That school is expensive as hell. Did you get a full ride?”

“So, what did your sister study when she was there?” I was attempting to deflect. I didn’t want to get into the whole ‘how I got there,’ with him. It would only lead to further discussion that I didn’t want to engage in. I wanted to maintain as much anonymity as I could.

“She’s a psychiatrist for the rich folks out there in New York. She stayed after she graduated. She was over California, and particularly the Bay Area. Married her a rich white dude and settled into this big ass life.”

It was a trip the random stuff you had in common with people. His sister had done the same thing that my aunt had done—uprooted, married big, and went on to live a rich ass life. I wondered if his sister was as estranged with her family as my aunt was with hers.

“That’s cool,” I responded.

“So, Jazz, what are you gonna do with your degree?”

And there was another question that I didn’t want to really tackle. But then I thought about it, and decided to forego all the secrecy and just give a little bit. It couldn’t hurt anything.

“I’m going into the family business.”

“
Ohhh
, family business. You didn’t need a full ride to Stern. You got that good family money. I see you, girl.”

“So, what do you do?” I asked, shifting the conversation in his direction.

“Me…?”

“Yeah, you,” I smiled.

“Well…I’m…
uhh
…in pharmaceuticals. Kinda like a lead pharmacist.”

“Oh, okay.
Lead
pharmacist. A lead pharmacist with his own lab and shit like that?”

He smiled at me slyly, and then traced along his chin cockily. “You wasn’t lyin’, huh? You do know somethin’ ‘bout these streets out here.”

“A lil’ something, I guess.”

“Yeah, well, in answer to your question . . . you could definitely say that I have my own. But put an ‘s’ on the end of labs. I don’t do small shit.”

Wow, a dope dealer
.
Surprise, surprise
, I thought to myself. I put on a forced smile and asked, “How did your sister end up
there
and you
there
?”

“She wanted one life, and I wanted another. It’s that simple. What works for her, didn’t work for me. She got her riches and I got mine. That’s all that mattered at the end of the day. She moved away to separate herself from her life. I bought my parents a few pieces of property to keep them in some wealth. It helped them to not focus on the daughter they gave a good life to, going off and thinking she was better than them. We all win.”

“So, you’re close to your parents then?”

“Kinda. Closer to my pops than moms, but yeah. What about you? Moms or pops?”

“Neither,” I responded. “I’m an orphan.”

“Oh shit. Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s all good. I got all the love that I needed. No daddy issues here. Mommy issues either.”

“I like that. A strong, educated woman—who happens to be beautiful as fuck at the same time.”

“Thank you.”

“So, when you think it’ll be cool to take you out on a date? Somewhere real nice.”

“When did you want to?”

“I’m the boss, so I make my own schedule. You just let me know.”

“Okay, let’s exchange numbers and then I can call you next week to set something up. Is that good?”

“Sounds good. As long as you call. I’m looking forward to linking up with you.”

~*~*~

After we left the party; somewhere around one in the morning, my buzz was still in full effect, but I wasn’t drunk. I was right where I needed to be—at a place where I could forget just enough without being twisted out my fuckin’ mind and suffering from a hangover later on. I leaned my head back against the seat and zoned out to the soft Jazz music that the driver had coming to the back where we were. Ordinarily, I’d want some of my Rap or R&B playing, but this mellow shit was just what I needed.

I did find myself—even when I didn’t want to—thinking about Khalil and how apparently what happened between me and him had been a one-shot deal. And that he was okay with it! All good though. I knew that if I was a little more tipsy, I’d be calling that fool to cuss him out.
As long as he’s willing to give up the dick if I come calling
! Before I knew it, I had chuckled out loud and that was when I noticed that Desiree was staring out the window into nothingness.

“What the hell you laughing at, crazy?” she asked, slowly, never once turning from the darkness.

I nudged her shoulder trying to pull her in my direction. “What’s wrong, boo? You missin’ your man?” I teased.

“I ain’t got no man.”

“Well, what’s wrong? Talk to me,” I suggested, turning my body sideways to face her. I leaned the side of my head into the seat and reached over to nudge her again. “
Talk
…
now
.”

“I can’t, Jazz. I…just can’t.” She reached over to the ice chest for the bottle of champagne.

I watched her bring the bottle to her lips, then squinted my eyes up at her. “
Uhhh
…what if I wanted some more, chick?”

“Then you can do what I’m doing,” she said. “I ain’t got no germs.”

“I don’t know that shit, girl!”

“Whatever,” she said, chuckling, as she took back another small gulp.”

I reached over to take the bottle from her hands. I was becoming more concerned about her by the second, and because of that, she was fuckin’ up my melancholy.

“Okay, Desi,” I shot, setting the bottle on the floor next to my foot. “What the fuck? You were just alright and now you’re not. What changed? And why are you talking about you
can’t
talk?”

“You got your own shit going on. That’s what I mean. I don’t want to bring my shit to you too. And besides, I don’t even think I should—even if you didn’t have shit going on. It’s just too much.”

“Well, bitch, now that you don’ just took my high all the way down with that cryptic ass shit, I need to know for real.
What’s goin’ on?
”

“Hella shit, Jazz,” she confessed, training her focus on me strongly. “Like…
hella
shit.”

“Just say what it is, man! I’m getting annoyed with this shit. One minute you’re good, the next minute you’re not and then you keep on with this ‘
hella shit is goin’
on’, but ‘
I can’t talk
’ and—”

“Nick is dead,” she blurted out. And before I could respond, she said, “And Dom is thinking that I had something to do with it.” But that wasn’t it. While my mouth was still hanging open and my brain was wrapping around the first part, she finished with, “He threatened me. That’s why he wanted to bring me outside. Now, I’m scared as fuck. I really am.” She turned to look at me and I could see the tension on her face even though it wasn’t that light in the back of the car. “Now you see why I didn’t want to say shit? Why I said that I
couldn’t
say shit? Yeah, you do. I can see it on your face.”

“I mean, you just threw so much shit at me at once!
This dude is dead
and his thug ass friend is threatening you! That’s why you told me that you wasn’t fuckin’ with him anymore?! Was he already dead when you told me that?! Why the fuck would you even let me go outside with this nigga when he’s threatening your life? And why is he threatening you anyway?!” I was livid with her. “You’re gonna need to tell me more than that. Because now you don’ put me on this nigga’s radar.”

When Desiree started to cry, I knew then that there was a whole lot more to the story. I just didn’t know if I was ready to hear it. But the cat was out the bag now, and she let that shit pour…

“Nick killed somebody—a girl. He killed her and then gave me her dog.”

My eyes bulged at her revelation. “You mean, Jada Pinkett?” I asked, in a shocked whisper.

“Yeah. But I didn’t know, Jazz. I swear I had no idea. He brought her to me and told me that he bought her for me. I
just
found out that she actually belonged to somebody…that he murdered.”

“Oh my God, Desi. Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I wish the hell I wasn’t.”

I was over this shit. I had never heard of so many deaths in my life. It was just too much happening. Too much and I wanted to muthafuckin scream! Like for real!

“Well, he ain’t gonna just be making threats! That’s what the fuck he
ain’t
gonna do! I’m gonna call Khalil and we’ll get that shit dealt with! We ain’t doing this shit. Hell naw!” I exclaimed, searching for my cell inside my clutch.

“No, Jazz,” Desiree said, stopping me from retrieving the device. “Don’t call Khalil. Let me finish telling you the rest. Because I’m gonna need for somebody to know just in case...”

“Alright, but I’m calling him after.”

“That’s fine. I shouldn’t have even come to a party that his friends were at. That was stupid on my part. But I didn’t think they would even…know…anything.”

“What does that mean, Desiree? Did you have something to do with his death? What the fuck kinda shit are you into?”

“I’m not into anything, Jazz. It was all Nick. They don’t know that he’s dead; just that they haven’t seen him.”

“But you know
for sure
that he’s dead?”

“Yeah, I was there.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I was there. The woman that Nick killed…her dog had a chip in her and the boyfriend was able to track her to my house. They showed up last week—some white guy and his goon. I went in my backyard to look for Jada and the white dude had her in his arms. They came inside and asked me how I got her. I didn’t wanna die, Jazz,” she cried. “I thought they were gonna kill me too.”

She had begun to shake. I rubbed her arm as she talked. “It’s okay,” I consoled. “Then what?”

“They made me call Nick and when Nick got there, they did him—in my living room.”

“What! Is that why you moved, girl?!
Fuuuck
.”

“Yeah, he put me up somewhere and paid for somebody to come and clean the place up. But I don’t wanna go back there. I saw him die, Jazz.
Saw him die
. I never saw no shit like that before. I didn’t want that man to walk into his own murder, but my hands were tied and I thought I was dead too. I really did. Luckily, not only did the white dude believe me, he let me keep Jada Pinkett.” Desiree lowered her eyes away from me. It looked as though she was processing her own words. “He really loved his girl. I could tell. He was hurt more than anything that somebody took her away. And that somebody just happened to be the nigga that I was fuckin’. I had no idea that I was fuckin’ with a murderer or why he even killed that woman. But to bring me her dog was fucked up. I feel bad for even having Jada Pinkett now.”

“So, where is he? Nick, I mean.”

“I have no idea. What tripped me out was that Dom didn’t mention other dude that was with Nick.”

“So he came with somebody?”

“Yeah, they killed him too.”

“Damn, Desi. And you saw all that?”

“Yep, and ain’t really slept since…I don’t know what to do. Dom knows that Nick came to my house. So now, as far as he’s concerned, I’m the last person to see him.”

“Well, look. He waited all these days then only asked when he saw you at a party. So maybe he’s just seeing what you know. Don’t panic. Are you still in contact with dude that…you know.”

“Yeah, he actually called to check on the dog and to see how I was doing. He put me up in that little place I’m in.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I’m glad I could finally tell somebody. It’s been on my heart since it happened.”

“I’m glad you could too.” I moved over closer to her, put my arm around her and laid her head on my shoulder. “I’m gonna call and let Khalil know and see what he can do. Wow…” I sighed, leaning back into my seat. “Shit is way outta control.”