Relapse: A Novel (3 page)

After Beijing explained the situation to her, Seville said, “Girl, that damn Johnny Wiz! I can’t believe he’s bi, but then I shouldn’t be surprised that he would think nothing was off limits to him with that ego of his. And you were keeping his secret from me?” She raised an eyebrow. “And I really can’t believe you are going to help that cocky asshole. After the way he treated you yesterday?”

“My job is to assist him. He’s in my care until he leaves this hotel. And I don’t want it to ever be said that I allowed a scandal to happen because I didn’t like the way a client spoke to me,” Beijing explained, leading Seville back into the hallway with a quick look to make sure none of those bottom-feeding scandalmongers were in sight.

“As cocky as he was, I would let him get caught,” Seville said, following her.

Beijing shot a look at her cousin and Seville knew Beijing meant business, so she changed her tune. “You know I got yo’ back. But I am only doing this because of you, not to help that self-absorbed booty bandit.”

“Well, let’s put the plan in motion. I will call you when the coast is clear and then you take the freight elevator and meet me upstairs, Room Nineteen Thirty-four.”

When Beijing arrived at Johnny’s room, it was apparent that he was worried. He looked vulnerable as he paced the floor and continuously peeped out the window.
This is not the same arrogant man from yesterday—not the way he’s on edge sweating bullets
, Beijing thought.

“Calm down, everything is going to be okay,” she assured him.

Beijing turned to Johnny’s lover. “Will you please put this on?” She handed him one of the hotel housekeeping uniforms she had grabbed on the way up. There was a knock on the door. Beijing checked the peephole and saw Seville standing in the hallway,
twirling a finger in her long hair. She quickly let her into the suite.

Seville strutted through the door swaying her hips from side to side, looking fashionable and seductive with a twist of class.

Beijing made her introductions. “Johnny, this is my cousin Seville, your date out of here.”

Seville was the perfect person to play the role. She stood five foot nine, with a long black deep-wave hair weave. She didn’t need the makeup that she painted on her mocha skin, but it made her eyes stand out. She was beautiful.

Johnny’s eyes met hers. “Thanks for coming to help me wiggle out of here,” he said sincerely.

Beijing could see the relief overtaking the worry on his face when she began to explain how they were going to maneuver out of the hotel and to the airport. “Beijing,” he said nervously, “the reason I don’t want anyone to know about this is because of my mother—”

Beijing stopped him. “You don’t owe me, or anyone else, an explanation. It’s simply nobody’s business what you do. Johnny, I am here to make your stay here and your transition home as smooth as possible.”

He took a deep breath and smiled at her.

“Thank you, Beijing.”

“My pleasure, Johnny.”

“Do you think this will work?” he asked, still somewhat unsure.

“Of course it will,” Beijing said with confidence.

“If it does, you know I will owe you big-time,” Johnny Wiz said. He pulled a wad of folded cash from his pocket and started counting out hundred-dollar bills. “Take this,” he said with his hand full of money, extended toward Beijing.

She shook her head no. “I can’t accept that.”

“You have to, you saved my ass; this is only a small token of my gratitude.”

“Johnny, it was my pleasure, and if you want to do something nice for me, just refer another client or two my way.”

“You can bet on that,” he said smoothly.

She looked at him with a smile. “Now let’s get you to the airport.”

Before they left the room, he reiterated, “Beijing, I am in deep debt to you. Please, if you need anything, and I mean anything, don’t hesitate to call me.”

Beijing was at her post at the front desk smiling as Seville played her part as Johnny’s girlfriend, sashaying through the lobby like a stuck-up celebrity princess.

While Beijing watched the taillights of the car move farther and farther away, she wanted to pat herself on the back, proud of the publicity stunt that she had pulled.
I swear, every day I get better and better at this
. She turned around and saw the reporter angrily pick up his camera bag and head toward the door after Johnny and Seville drove away.

“Didn’t your friend show up?” she asked.

The jilted paparazzi snarled at her, “No, he didn’t. I’m actually going to leave.”

“Well, before you go, why don’t you have a drink on the house?” She asked for his business card, then led him to the bar and told the bartender to pour the man a drink. That was Beijing’s MO. She had beaten the man at his own game, gotten his contact information, and even given him a consolation prize.
You’s a badass bitch
, she said to herself, stroking her ego. A huge smile spread over her perfectly symmetrical features as she thought about how, just moments ago, she’d put the brakes on a would-be national media-story-of-the-year about how one of the most powerful men in the music business liked to pack sausages in his lunch box on his downtime.

Beijing went back to her office to take a breather. She looked around the luxurious room with the view of the waterfalls outside. This was her dream life, her dream job: to work in hotels and
make everything right for people who traveled. When she was young, she had traveled damn near all over the continental United States, Canada, and Mexico, and even to the Caribbean with her stepmother, Greta. Greta would encourage Beijing to do all the organizing and find out all the places that they’d want to see. Through those childhood experiences she learned how to get around in strange cities and communicate with people from all facets of life. Who knew that she’d turn her passion into profit?

“Daydreaming on the clock, I see.” Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice.

It was her boss, Thaddius Collier, the owner of the Tabby. Thaddius had grown up with a silver spoon in his mouth, but he was taught at an early age that he had to polish it himself. Before his tenth birthday, his father had taught him the ins and outs of the stock market and the basics of business. When Thaddius turned eighteen, his father sent him to Morehouse instead of Harvard or Princeton where all his friends were going. Although one of the Ivy League schools would’ve looked better on his résumé, Mr. Collier wanted his son to know what it felt like to be in an environment where he was a minority. Besides, a son of his would never need a résumé, he would be sitting on the other side of the desk.

When Thaddius turned twenty-five, he received his first fortune the old-fashioned way: He inherited it. With his own money to do with as he pleased, he opened his first hotel. He named it after his mother, Tabitha, and just like his mother his hotel would be eclectic, modern, and classy. And the Tabby was indeed in a class of its own. It was the playground for a lot of new money and young socialites.

This hotel chain was Thaddius’s baby and he treated it as such. He oversaw the operation of each and every hotel, and his relationship with Beijing was special. He had handpicked her to handle the extreme demands of his rich and famous guests. In return, in addition to her healthy salary, she received a spacious
one-bedroom suite at the hotel with a view to die for. Since she had taken the job, not only had her Rolodex grown but she and Thaddius had become good friends as well.

“You did well here today. As always, I’m so impressed with all the rabbits you seem to pull out of your hat.”

“Thank you. That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”

He chuckled before speaking. “That brings me to the reason I’m here. I have a special assignment for you.”

Beijing grabbed her pen and turned to a fresh page in her notebook. “What?” she asked.

“Jamie Tiller. You remember him, don’t you?”

“Yes I do, the big-time investment banker who met his girlfriend at the bar.”

“How do you manage to remember each and every client? I’m always moved by your photographic memory.”

Because I am that bitch. You don’t get it! I’m just that good
, is what she wanted to say, but instead she replied, “It’s what I do.”

“However, your personal life is nonexistent.”

“It’s nonexistent because I have no personal life,” she stated.

“You need to get one. You make enough to buy one,” he joked.

“I’m going to ignore your corny digs and get back to business. So, I know he’s having a surprise engagement party for his girlfriend on Tuesday night.”

“Yes, but he will need you to fly to Las Vegas—on his jet, of course—to pick up the ring from Harry Winston.”

“No problemo. You know I love Vegas. When do I leave?”

“I’d like to have the ring here no later than Monday evening.”

“Do you mind if I leave Friday night after I drop off Seville at the airport? The big fight is in Vegas on Saturday, and I would love to go and maybe pick up some new clients for the Tabby.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. Do you have tickets?” he asked, and then shooed his question off. “It doesn’t really matter if you do right now, because I know you will get them.”

She lit up like a Christmas tree at the thought of the fun she
was going to have in Vegas. “I’m happy to go and even happier that I’m going in the private jet. Thanks for such a great opportunity.”

Thaddius finished giving her the details for the coming weekend and exited her office. Ten minutes didn’t go by before he popped his head back in. “Hey, you should go sit down in the restaurant and have a steak dinner tonight. You seem to always have room service.”

“Maybe I will. I haven’t had a good tender piece of meat in a long time.”

“You need some excitement in your life. While you’re in Vegas, you should take advantage of the spa. You never get a moment to take care of you since you are always so busy taking care of everyone else.”

“Thank you again, Thaddius.”

At the end of the day, and to commend herself on such a good job, she took Thaddius’s advice and ordered a scrumptious steak dinner, compliments of the Tabby. As she took the last bite of the juicy filet mignon, her phone rang. It was Johnny Wiz.

“Hi, Beijing.”

“Hello, Johnny, how was your flight?”

“Worry-free, thanks to you.”

“Not a problem.”

“I wanted to tell you thanks again and to remind you if there is anything you ever need, please call me.”

“All in a day’s work.”

The MGM in Las Vegas was crammed with Hollywood’s elite. The hotel was hosting the biggest fight of the year, and the atmosphere crackled with electricity. It was a sold-out event; everybody who was anybody was there, and everybody that wanted to be somebody was hating on those who were.

“May I see your tickets, please, ma’am?” the young usher asked. He was tall and had his long hair pulled back into a pony-tail. The two ladies handed him their ticket stubs. He took a quick glance at the tickets then back at the attractive women.

“Follow me,” he said after pulling his eyes away from the girls. He led them to their seats.

“Girlllll,” Rayna squealed after the usher stopped at one of the aisles and pointed toward their ringside seats, “these seats are top-flight. A bitch is close enough to land a punch her damn self.” She shot a short jab, as if to give her approval. Then she asked, “How’d you manage to cop tickets like these?”

Beijing was sidetracked scanning the room with her trained eyes, making mental notes on who was there, whom they were with, which ones she’d dealt with, and the potential clients she’d like to meet.

As she nonchalantly looked around, she made eye contact with a boxer, Taymar, who was there as a commentator on the fight. She had hosted him when he was at the hotel, and not only did two of his girls end up fighting over him, breaking furniture and lamps and spilling liquor all over the rugs, but he had skipped out, leaving a bill of over sixty thousand dollars. Beijing smiled on the inside because she knew that Taymar thought he had seen a ghost. After all the people he had faced in the ring, at that very moment he was scared shitless not knowing if Beijing was going to come over and embarrass him in front of the boxing officials.

“I thought I told you,” she said, turning to Rayna for a brief moment, “I did a favor for the trainer of one of the boxers once or twice. After he found out I was a huge boxing fan, we stayed in touch. I can get him to give me a light workout routine for you, if you’d like,” she added while giving Taymar the evil eye.

It was no secret; Rayna had been struggling to maintain a “society-approved” weight for years. Truth was: she was tall and naturally big-boned, and she carried her weight well but was still self-conscious.

Rayna was about to take Beijing up on the workout routine offer when she saw the ponytailed usher return with two fine brothers in tow. The usher pointed to a row behind them for the two handsome guys to sit. Rayna gave Beijing a nudge with her elbow to get her full attention, then gestured toward the duo. They were making their way into their seats when Beijing glanced at the fellas.