Page 30 of Finesse
“Um, yeah, sure.” The weekend was a whirlwind of events. We shopped, we dined, we danced, and we made copious amounts of love. Cameron kept me busy so I didn’t have to wonder about what he was doing other than the jewelry store trip. Everything still felt…off.
I can admit sometimes I get caught in my own neuroticism that it drives me nuts. It’s a gnawing feeling about Cameron I can’t shake. Is he too good to be true? I don’t know, maybe. But I don’t think he’s completely true blue.
Hayley returned with a spontaneous charcuterie plate and we both dig in. “Cameron and Que work hard, Tay. They own a lot of businesses together and even some in other countries, from what Que told me.” Hayley turned to me. “Why? Did something happen?”
“We went to a jewelry store and he was gone for a long time. He said he was handling business but it took over an hour.” The memory still stays with me. “He didn’t mention the jewelry store being a part of his businesses.”
“Why do you care?” Hayley asks. “If it’s none of your business, Tay, then respect that.”
“I know better than to be in a man’s business when it’s nothing I need to be concerned with.” I know how men are and most importantly, I know how wealthy men are. Cameron showed me in few ways I needed to STFU about what he’s doing. “What if it’s underhanded shit?”
“Are you going to break up with him if it is?” Hayley asks. “Be real. If you found out Cameron was involved in some illegal stuff, would you look the other way?”
I know what the answer is. The same answer I thought about when Cameron told me how his mother reacts to his father’s affairs – ignore it and enjoy the lifestyle. “Depends on what it is, I guess.”
Hayley smiles at me. “And that right there tells me you’re willing to stay with him.”
“Whatever.” I rather not deal with the potential truth than to come up with a clever lie. “I see you got new fits.”
“Went shopping and Que told me to get whatever I wanted so I did,” Hayley is wearing just some shorts and a light sweater but I also know they didn’t come from the flea market. She’s probably wearing a few hundred dollars worth of clothing. “Then we had sex in every room in his home. We literally just finished when he dropped me off and went to go pick y’all up.”
“TMI, bitch, TMI.” I shake my head. Hayley keeps it a little too real sometimes. I love her for it, though. “Cam wants to meet Daddy.”
“Oh.” There’s a small frown on her face. Hayley knows how my father is. He wouldn’t care that Cameron is white, but he might care who Cameron is related to. “You think your dad will be okay with Cameron?”
“I don’t know.” After the conversation we just had about Cameron’s and Que’s potentially illegal dealings, I know for a fact my father would want nothing to do with Cameron no matter who he is related to. “I think it’ll be okay.”
“So, Ms. Thang…” Hayley turns to me. “Are you in love with Cameron? Is it serious?”
“It’s serious but I don’t know how serious.” Once the uncomfortable conversation from the dinner dissipated, it was like that particular moment never happened at all. “It’s only been a few weeks. We’re still in that new stage.”
“The new love is fun. Thewhen is he going to call?And theI hope I can see him this weekend!” Hayley sighs. “And you wake up next to funky breath and you have to wash his equally funky draws, and then you think, ‘Thank God you have a big dick.’”
“Okay, you and Que are clearly comfortable with each other.” I take a bite of the prosciutto and mozzarella. I push the worry aside and focus on the semester ending and looking for an internship before I graduate.
I’ll worry about my father’s reaction to Cameron later.
Thirteen
My father wants to kill Cameron; he just haven’t figured out how.
As we’re driving to Cameron’s parents’ estate, Daddy is being awfully quiet. He’s normally talkative and can’t shut up about something – be it his business, a woman, or some sports. Now he’s barely saying a word.
Rick James is serenading us about the ghetto life and here is my Daddy, in the blackest car he could possibly drive as we head into Buckhead. He has a small selection of cars – the Toyota Matrix for business, a Mercedes to impress the ladies, and a low-rider to bring around family and friends.
Of course, Daddy chose the low-rider to go meet Cameron’s parents. The candy-apple paint along with the 20-inch rims is shined to perfection. He’s bumping “This is America” as loud as he can.
Other protest songs are also on the playlist – “Fight the Power”, “Whitey’s on the Moon”, “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised”, and the all-time favorite, “Fuck Tha Police.”
It seems my father wanted to go Super Black for this visit. I don’t think he’s trying to break us up, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the thought didn’t cross his mind.
The GPS takes us to a neighborhood where the streets are wide and the sidewalks are neatly paved. It’s clear we’re not in East Atlanta Village anymore. The vibe is different. Neighbors are outside chatting with each other, holding their respective expensive full-breed dogs and just as expensive full-breed children.
Nothing mixed, just the way they want it.
The homes are two and three-story tall with manicured lawns and blindly white picket fences. Some of the homes are a special type of wealthy with the street numbers spelled out instead of numerals.
Seventeen Ninety.
