Page 66 of Love's Free Will

Me: You in LA?

He responded before I could even put the blunt down.

Logan: Always. What’s up?

Me: I’m comin’ to LA. Need help findin’ new rep. You got somebody in mind?

It took a second.

Logan: T&A Management. Kylei Alexander and Elijah Townsend. Kylei is Lux’s wife — they’ve been doin’ crazy numbers. She manages Heaven and two of our other platinum acts. If she fucks with you, you in good hands.

Me: Set it up.

Logan: Bet. I’ll text you the details.

I stared at the screen for a moment. That was it, I was goin to LA. Not for her, not yet anyway. I had a long way to go before I even deserved to speak her name again. But step one was going to be handling my shit. Clean my slate. Get back tome.

I opened a new text to my assistant—Cory—who’d been workin’ with me since I dropped my first independent CD. Cory was the younger brother of this chick I used to fuck with. He went to school for business management, knew his shit.

Me: We headed to LA for a few months. Gonna need a place. Gotta be fire. I need to be close to the label.

Cory: You need a condo or a house?

Me: House. Private. Not too flashy. But I want amenities.

Cory: Say less. You need Zay with us?

Me: Yeah. We all flyin’ out. LAX. Handle the travel, car service while we there, and all that.

Cory: I got you. And you said we, I’m included right?

Me: Yeah nigga. But keep in mind, this ain’t a vacation.

Cory: Bet.

I sat my phone down, stood, and started to move. My mind clearer than it had been in weeks.

That next morning Cory was at my crib, and I instructed him on what to pack. Not a lot, just the basics and the bullshit I knew I’d forget if I waited too long; anything else I could get there.

I stopped by my mama’s place that afternoon.

She was cleanin’, like always. A towel over her shoulder, gospel music in the background, chicken thawin’ in the sink.

“You leavin’ again?” she asked, not lookin’ up from her rag.

“Yeah,” I said. “Goin’ to LA for a while.”

She paused, wiped her hands. “You goin’ for business?”

“Yeah. Got some meetin’s. Label shit. Also, lookin into new management. King gone, so I need somebody to handle the business side of stuff.”

She nodded. “Need me to watch the G-Wagon?” a sly smile appeared on her face, and I chuckled.

“You already know.”

She smiled, soft and proud. “Be safe, baby.”

“I will.”

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