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Like me, Khadijah makes mistakes. She’s never been malicious about her actions. She constantly balances everyone’s needs, whereas I’ve selfishly placed my needs above the band’s for a long time.
I don’t know if I’ll get back to who I was a year ago, but staying stagnant the way I have been isn’t the answer.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
Kenya
“Ican’t thank you enough for letting me move in here with you. Are you sure I won’t cramp your style with and Hottie McHotpants?” Jazzy unloads the last box in the truck rental and follows me inside.
“There goes our nightly streaking contest to see who the faster runner is.” I snap my fingers while feigning regret.
“Should I even ask?” Cameron takes the box I’m carrying out of my hands.
“Jazzy thinks we’ve turned this place into a miniature version of Covo del Peccato.” I lead the pair up to Jazzy’s new room.
“So she hasn’t seen the renovation plans for the bungalow. The contractors have to customize a lot for the dunge—”
I pinch his side.
“I’m only kidding!” Cameron shies away from me and runs ahead of us and returns to take the box from Jazzy. “I’ll leave you two to catch up. Holler if you need my…abilities.” He flexes his arms like the men on Muscle Men Magazine before kissing my cheek and leaving the room.
Jazzy catches me staring where he exited. “You haven’t told him how you feel, have you?”
It’s been four days since our talk about my concerns regarding the L word. “Not really. I told him I’m not ready to return the words. He just nodded and kissed me on the forehead.”
* * *
“Hashe declared his love since then?” She opens a box and begins to empty the contents.
“Yes, though he doesn’t say it often. I sense he would say it more, but he’s holding himself back because he doesn’t want to pressure me.” I slump against the bed frame resting on the wall. “I feel guilty because the times he does tell me he loves me are so unexpected. I think if he did it while doing something romantic I could prepare myself to hear the words. Not when I’m sitting with his arms around me while we talk about whatever random subject crosses my mind. I never know what to say.”
“You’ll figure it out. All I ask is you don’t pull a Greg on him. Shit, why did I say his name?” Jazzy drops her head and covers her face.
I run to her side to wrap her in my embrace. “I promise to never be like him.”
After a few moments, Jazzy pulls away. “Sorry about that. Let’s get this place habitable because I refuse to bunk with you two in your room.”
“You were never invited. I have a great sofa that will do until your ready to assemble the bed.”
“Okay, I need a break,” Jazzy says on her newly pieced-together bed.
We head to the kitchen for a snack.
“Oh, Kenya, a delivery service dropped off a package. It looks important.” Cameron hands me a thick envelope with a grin. “Look who it’s from.”
Studio Z97’s logo takes up the upper left corner of the envelope.
I shriek and jump into his arms.
“Don’t you want to see what’s in the envelope to know how much celebrating we’re doing tonight?” Jazzy snatches the mail from me and rips into the package.
I snatch it back. “Back off, lady. My eyes will be the first to witness them appreciating my greatness.” I scan the pages of a legal document.
Ever since the convention the studio lawyers, my lawyers, and I have been going back on forth with my contractual requests. I speed to the pages until I get to the request I put in a few days ago.
“Jazzy,” I stretch out her name, unable to contain my excitement. “Now that you’re independent again, how about coming to work for me on my series?”
“Are you shitting me right now?” Jazzy grabs my arms. Her disbelief brings tears to my eyes. “I’m going to need a job with all the mess in my life. You wouldn’t be so cruel as to dangle this in front of me.”
