Page 51 of Cause When You Love Someone
“Simone, you can say what you want, but what you did was foul. You moved like a hater, and it makes me wonder ifyouever slept with Chaz.”
Simone scooted her chair back and jumped to her feet. “Yeah. You’ve lost your mind. I’m out of here.”
Once Simone stomped out of sight, Jerry redirected the conversation. Along with my mom, Sage and I discussed my reasons for leavingHotties of the West Coast,then we talked about a few brand deals I had in the works.
By the end of filming, the tension was still thick, but my shoulders felt lighter.
I started toward the elevator with Sage at my side, but I excused myself when I saw Jerry in a corner smoking a cigarette.
“Whew! Today was a full day. I know the network is going to love it.”
“I hope so.” I checked my surroundings. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Of course, beautiful. What’s going on?”
“Well . . . I know the show is supposed to highlight the drama in my life, but what if I wanted to take things in a different direction?”
His brows knitted together. “Different direction?”
“Yeah. I’ve considered getting back into dance, and I want the show to document the journey—along with everything else, of course.”
I explained my plans to train and then open a dance studio. I already owned a space I inherited from my father and had never figured out what to do with it.
“Look at you! You sound like a producer.” He grinned. “Have you spoken to your mom about this?”
“I have not.”
The pale man massaged his non-existent beard as he bobbed his head up and down. “I like it. The network may give some pushback, but once they find out your mom doesn’t know about your plans, that will be enough to give the green light.”
Ishmaeland I hadn’t made things official, but that didn’t stop him from arranging date night at least once a week for the last three weeks.
On any other occasion, I would have hired a team to help me get ready for a black-tie event. But, since I gave up my hotel hideout, I had a thirst for proving my independence to myself. My bob needed maintenance, so I slicked it back like Mystique fromX-Men. Makeup wasn’t my forte, but I knew enough to make my face as pretty as the diamonds I planned to wear.
In between completing my look, I sipped on a glass of Don Julio and cranberry juice. Love songs played throughout my beauty room, but when the music shuffled to “Girl”by Destiny’s Child, so did my thoughts.
Simone and I hadn’t spoken in weeks. Based on the amount of finger-pointing she did, there was a chance we could go years without exchanging words. I wasn’t above forgiving my friend for crossing the line—I had forgiven Chaz plenty of times. Still, Simone wasn’t asking for forgiveness since she didn’t think she did anything wrong. That was where she lost me. In the last text she sent, she called me out for being hugged up with Ishmael so soon after cutting ties with Chaz. Even though my actions crossed my mind, I was a grown ass woman. A single woman. If I wanted to pop my kitty for a protective, fine, intelligent big dawg, that was what I was going to do.
“Hell, I’m ready to do it again.” I giggled to myself as I put on a pair of diamond drop earrings. The jewelry and the three-foot train attached to my black gown were over-the-top, but I lived for a good statement piece.
With only a few minutes to finish getting myself together, I switched my ID, lipstick, and key fob to a red Jimmy Choo Callie clutch, then pranced to the living room.
A soft knock on the front door triggered a smile to overpower my face. I checked the security camera to ensure a knight was at my door instead of a frog before tugging it open.
I had no consideration for my fresh lipstick when I swept my tongue across my lips. “Damn, you’re fine.”
“You love to make me blush. These are for you.” He ushered a bouquet of red roses into my hands. “Before you say anything, those are chocolates, not flowers.”
My heart did a pirouette. “Aww. You remembered what I said about flowers. Let me go put these in the fridge, then we can go wherever we’re going since you won’t give many details.”
Our small talk comforted me as we made our way downstairs, but my pulse surged when Ishmael guided me to a big-body Maybach. Don’t get me wrong; I had been in plenty of luxury vehicles. The difference was knowingIshmaelarranged for us to ride in style.
“Pretty lady, I know you’re not crying over this car. You’re always riding in some expensive shit.”
I nodded. “True, but I purchased them for myself. You set this up for me. For us.”
Ishmael removed the handkerchief from his tuxedo pocket and softly dabbed the corners of my eyes.
“Don’t worry. I’m not messing up your makeup,” he commented. “I’m happy to know I can make a woman who has everything smile about something.”
