Slick (27 page)

In spite of everything, he was amazingly level. Before anyone had to ask, he stood up and moved on to the next set piece, where Harmony was waiting. He pulled a pack of smokes from his back pocket and quietly offered her one. Nervously, she obliged.

“So,” he said, lighting up both of them, “I guess we about to have a history together.”

 

 

The next ninety minutes were spent catching up on old times. Our goal was to take a set of pictures from three different eras: three months ago, seven months ago, and ten months ago. Per my instructions, all of these so-called candids were to be completely non-suggestive. Just Hunta and Harmony sitting around, friendly but not too friendly. Together but never alone together. I made sure the backgrounds were peppered with faceless extras, whoever was available in the room. The key here was subtlety. Let the media draw their own conclusions.

For each period, Hunta and Harmony had to endure a thorough array of hair, makeup, and wardrobe adjustments to reflect their appearance at the time. Poor Harmony spent at least fifty of those ninety minutes sequestered in one of the bedrooms, getting worked over by Maxina’s crew. Her first ensemble was the one she’d worn for the “Chocolate Ho-Ho” shoot: a frilly bikini top and a leather miniskirt so short I could have used it for a cummerbund. Her makeup job was even trashier than the one she had sported last night at the Flower Club. A strip of white film was taped over her teeth to hide her braces. I couldn’t read her face under all those obstructions. Was she mortified at doing this, or was I mortified for her?

There are just too many of them
, Simba had said to me, twenty-four hours ago.
There are too many sisters out there waiting for the chance to degrade themselves.

I was too open-minded to put the blame entirely on the sisters, and I was too focused to succumb to another attack of progressive guilt, like the one I’d suffered at Keoki Atoll. Besides, my goal wasn’t cheap exploitation this time. Just the opposite. Upon viewing the digital thumbnails of the first few shots, I was delighted to see that Harmony’s wholesome humanity had broken through the makeup. Even in full vamp mode, she broadcast her depth. She was more than a sister. She was
somebody’s
sister. Somebody’s daughter.

For the second round of photos—purportedly taken at Mean World’s fun-filled, rape-free Fourth of July bash—Harmony was dressed more respectably in a short summer dress. By then the Judge had returned from his lengthy phone call. He wasn’t pleased. I assumed (correctly, it turns out) that his problem had to do with Interscope. I also assumed (incorrectly, it would seem) that he’d refrain from making his problem my problem.

I was talking to Big Bank, recruiting him for a very special mission, when I saw the trouble out of the corner of my eye. The Judge had finally seen fit to introduce himself to Harmony, but he wasn’t being cordial about it. He held her arm with one hand and pointed in her face with the other. Her tense posture told me the rest.

“HEY!”

The last time I’d expressed anger at the Judge, it was just for show. A silly ruse designed to get him off my back. This one, I admit, was more natural in origin.

I raced across the room. “What the hell are you doing?”

The Judge let go of her, surprised. “I’m just talking to her.”

“Bullshit. You were threatening her.”

Everyone stopped to observe the exchange. I was too occupied to study their reactions. I imagined at least Hunta and Big Bank were darkly amused.

The Judge wasn’t. “Watch your tone with me.”

“Watch your tone with her.”

Doug chimed in. “Guys...”

“I was just telling her how important—”

“You were threatening her. If you do it again, I’ll bring this whole operation to a screeching halt, you understand me? I don’t care where we are in the process. I’ll stop it and I’ll take her away.”

If this were Suge Knight, I’d already be hanging from the balcony. The Judge, however, was a smaller man in a bigger jam. He was forced to settle for raging indignation.

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Who the hell do you think
she
is? She’s your messiah. She’s the one who’s going to part the sea and lead you all to safety. Who am I? I’m the one responsible for her. And I’m telling you right now, you either treat her right or you’ll wish you had a snorkel. I am dead serious.”

Technically, I wasn’t. My wits (and my wit) came back moments after going away. By then the only smart option was to fake the rest of my fury. Otherwise I’d be undermining my own authority.

Of course, the Judge was unable to back down for the very same reason. Fortunately, he had Doug.

The lawyer stepped between us. “Okay! Look, I think it was all a misunderstanding. Let’s all cool down and take a breather. Guys?”

That was my cue to back off. “If it was a misunderstanding, I apologize. If it wasn’t, then I said what I had to say. You doing all right?”

The question was aimed at Harmony, who stood immobile the whole time. If anything, I owed the Judge a hearty handshake. Our spat triggered a whole slew of beneficial side effects, not the least of which was Harmony’s strong new trust in me. Our relationship started out as a house of cards, became a tower of toothpicks, and was now a construct of pure reinforced steel, stretching all the way to the sky.

“I’m okay,” she assured me.

“It’s all right. We’re almost done here.”

Although I hadn’t noticed, Maxina had come back into the room sometime during the fracas. She stared at me with a mystified smile, no doubt questioning the authenticity of my outburst. I figured she’d want to talk to me, but first I had to finish business with Big Bank.

With a glib look, he shook his head at me. “The only white man in the room and he’s making threats.”

“You impressed?”

“A little.”

“So does that mean you’ll do it?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

“Good. You start tomorrow.”

Big Bank’s assignment was a sliver of work compared to Harmony’s, and virtually no risk. But I needed someone smart and trustworthy for the job. Now I got him. Another beneficial effect.

“You don’t want to turn around right now, “ said Maxina as I reached her at the door.

“The Judge still mad?”

“He’s not used to being told off.”

“He could have ruined everything.”

“Byron’s a good man, Scott. He’s just under a lot of pressure.”

“I get that. Really. But if he wants me to help, he needs to back off and let me do my thing.”

She took a long moment to pleasantly study me.

“Yes?”

“I’m just astounded,” she mused, “by how much you take after Drea.”

Jesus. That one hit me from right field. I couldn’t even mask my surprise. “You knew her?”

“Still do.”

“I...Wow. I had no idea.”

“Small world. Small business.”

Too small. The connection disturbed me, as Maxina knew it would. Damn it. This fat, short-legged woman ran circles around me. She wasn’t playing me for fun. She had very strategic reasons for keeping me off balance. Unlike the Judge, Maxina knew damn well who the real threat to the operation was. Once the ball got rolling, there would be over a dozen ways for me to hijack Harmony for personal gain. All of them sank Hunta. Most of them would take Mean World down with him. A few would even rupture the hull of Maxina’s firm. I certainly had the shrewd mind to pull off a devastating double-cross. But did I have the nerve?

Unfortunately, there was nothing I could say or do to kill her concern. I’d just have to get used to her dorsal fin around me. But at least she knew now that whichever way I went, Harmony would be riding shotgun, a willing accomplice instead of a hopeless dupe.

Maxina watched her pose with Hunta. “Your girl’s a real find, Scott.”

“She’s amazing.”

“You two certainly seem to have hit it off.”

“We have. The best part is that I haven’t told her a single lie.”

“I see. And how many truths have you actively withheld?”

I cracked a soft grin and mentally cursed her out. “Just two. Here’s one of them.”

I handed her a microcassette from my shirt pocket. She examined it. “Is this the whole conversation, or just the insurance part?”

“The insurance part.”

“Can I have a copy of the whole conversation?”

“Of course,” I replied, venting a thin jet of steam. “I can rush messenger a copy the second I get home.”

“No hurry, no hurry. Just curious.”

I didn’t tell Maxina about the fifteen-minute gap in the tape, the part where Harmony and I talked outside the car. That should make her real curious.

She pocketed the cassette. “So what’s the other creative omission?”

“Lisa Glassman.”

That was a judgment call on my part. The hardest thing Harmony would ever have to do was confess to her adoring public that she’d misled them. I figured if she knew about Lisa, it would be all too easy to convince herself that Hunta really was a sexual aggressor. And if she thought that about Hunta, then why save him? Why sacrifice her sweetheart status to deliver an absolution he doesn’t deserve? Harmony would have plenty of motivation to skip out on her mea culpa. I didn’t want to add more.

Maxina mulled it over. “Hmm. I don’t know if I would have played it that way. But I’ll trust you.”

The photo shoot was wrapping up. Hunta was still on his best behavior. He joked around with Harmony—teasing her, charming her, separating her from the role she was about to play. I couldn’t have asked for more. Despite his marital shortcomings, he seemed like a pretty decent guy. And despite Maxina’s fears, I was steadfastly determined to save his public image. Even more, I was obsessed with getting the job done right. Maybe I did take after Drea.

“So how is she?” I finally inquired.

“She’s good,” Maxina replied. “At first she was happy to be out of the game. Now she’s just happy.”

After failing to get a reaction, she looked to me. “Isn’t that nice?”

“What? Yeah. Of course. That’s fantastic.”

Like a child, I was being coy. I was just playing my own round of silly games. In truth, the news had warmed my heart. I just didn’t want to admit I had one.

 

 

We finished at 1:30. It was a very productive meeting. I’d introduced Harmony to her new co-conspirators, met with all the people I wanted to meet with, and come away with a Zip disk full of maximum-quality JPEG photographs. Fifteen minutes later, she and I were safely smuggled out of the hotel. By then we were both starving. I took her to an upscale Chinese restaurant at the Beverly Center.

“You sure it ain’t bad for us to be seen together like this?” she asked.

“No. Not yet.”

“But it will be, I guess.”

Yes. Soon. Although I hesitated to tell her, tomorrow was probably the last day she’d ever see me. After that I’d be nothing but a voice in her ear, an invisible guide on her journey through the Ten Percent Nation. I figured we might as well enjoy the face time while we had it.

Our appetizer arrived, but instead of eating, Harmony rested her chin on her fists and gave me a warm smile. Just like her Polaroid.

“By the way, thank you.”

“For what?”

“For sticking up for me the way you did. He was threatening me, you know.”

I speared a dumpling. “Yeah. I’m sorry about that. The Judge isn’t very familiar with how these things work.”

“He said that if I ever betray Hunta or Mean World, he’ll ruin my life.”

“He won’t,” I told her through a full mouth. “I won’t let him.”

“I know.”

“But Hunta seemed to be treating you well, right?”

She finally dug in. “Yeah. He was great to me. He kept asking me about the police. He heard what happened to me and was all tripping from it, like ‘Yo, I can’t believe those motherfuckers ran you down.’ I told him it was an accident but he wasn’t hearing that. He said there ain’t no accidents with the LAPD.”

“What do you think?”

Harmony laughed. “I don’t know. I never believed in any of that conspiracy shit before. But then you came along.”

I smiled. “Just don’t get carried away with that kind of thinking. It’ll drive you nuts.”

“No. Don’t worry. I got the opposite problem. I don’t think anything happens for a reason. I don’t even believe in God no more. I think we all just here doing our shit, trying to find success for ourselves, and that’s that.”

“Yeah? So where would you like to find success?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what’s your big dream? You looking to carve your way through the music industry?”

She giggled. “Why you think that?”

“I don’t know. With a name like Harmony...”

“Nope. Can’t sing. Can’t play nothing. But I can dance. And I guess I look good doing it, so, you know, videos. That’s as far as it goes, though.”

“Okay. So then what’s your real ambition?”

She took a quick sip of water. “It don’t matter.”

“Oh, come on.”

With a jaded half-grin, she rummaged through her purse. “You know, I answered all these questions for Jay and Sheila.”

“And nobody’s asked since?”

“No,” she said, retrieving her pill bottle. “It’s a very white question.”

I laughed. Now my curiosity was really piqued. I figured a good eight seconds of expectant silence should shake her tongue loose.

It took twelve. She popped her pills, then rolled her eyes. “Children’s books, okay?”

“Ah. You want to write.”’

“And draw.”

“You good at it?”

She shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t know. I used to be. I’m out of practice now.”