Page 14 of Cause When You Love Someone

Clarke

D esperado

I stared at my phone like it was covered in shit after my mom went over plans for the night.

“Mama, this is bogus, and you know it. Doing a club appearance is going to send mixed messages.”

“Clarke, who gives a damn? Jupiter’s Lounge paid you and Chaz twenty thousand dollars to attend their grand opening. You signed a contract, and I’m not getting dragged into court, because you’re acting like a fucking diva.”

Disgust drove my eyes around my head. “Can you stop being my manager, for one second, and act like my mom?”

“No matter what role I play in your life, I would still expect you to do a job you’ve been paid for.

Ishmael should be there soon, and I already informed him that Chaz and his friends are a part of your entourage for the night.

I won’t be able to make it, so act like I raised you right, and go secure the rest of our bag. ”

Sage freed a shaky exhale after I ended the call.

“You could just give the money back,” he suggested.

My head sank into the pillows near the headboard. “I could, but me and Chaz split the deposit down the middle. I’m pretty sure he’s spent his half, and I’m not paying his portion back.”

“I mean, it may not be that bad. You are only expected to show face in the lounge for two hours.”

“Two hours or two minutes is too long. Any amount of time in the same room with a man I’m trying to break free from is too long,” I whined. “I’ve been doing so good, too. I’m going on four weeks of no contact.”

“After witnessing what you’ve gone through with Chaz, I’m proud of you, Clarke,” Sage professed. “Is Ishmael coming along tonight?”

“Of course.”

“Of course.” Sage playfully mocked me. “What’s going on with you and the bodyguard, Whitney?”

“What do you mean? He works with me.”

Sage’s silence prompted me to sit up on my elbows.

“What?” I squealed playfully. “I don’t know what’s going on between us. Ishmael is … different. He challenges me, but he also makes me feel safe. He checks me about things without making me feel judged. We’ve come a long way in the six weeks we’ve worked together.”

“Look at you, sitting here with rosy cheeks,” Sage teased. “I knew he was something special when you trusted him to pick you up from the club. Usually, you just hang around until Simone is ready to go.”

“True, but Ishmael made me feel like if I called, he would come running. I’m not really used to people doing that without expecting something in return. I like that about him.”

Sage lifted his finger in the air. “I’m sure you also like how fine he is. He reminds me of that rapper AZ Chike, but he’s finer and thicker and a few inches taller.”

I snapped my fingers when Sage pretended to drift into a trance.

“Hey! Stop daydreaming about my man—bodyguard.”

“Nah, you had it right the first time,” he joked. “Let’s go get you ready so your bodyguard can escort you and your ex-boyfriend out on the town.”

I placed a pillow over my face and screamed, “That sounds horrible!”

Along with Sage, I walked into my closet at my mom’s and searched for my leather D2 two-piece.

Since I decided to get dressed at my mom’s house, my selection wasn’t as broad, but I still tried to coordinate with the options Chaz had sent earlier.

In the same message, he asked if he could get dressed at my place, and I quickly vetoed the idea.

I knew our closeness that night would send mixed signals, but I prayed my dismissive behavior would remind Chaz we were done.

As I put on a pair of big silver hoops, I looked out the second-floor window and spotted Ishmael.

He leaned against a party bus with his attention planted on his phone; however, after a few seconds, his eyes floated up to my window.

Stuck in place, I could feel him touching me, even from far away.

His studious frames had been replaced with a pair of buffs, and instead of slacks and a polo, Ishmael dressed in a motorcycle jacket, black pants, and boots.

For the first time, he wore a diamond piece around his neck, and the watch on his wrist shone bright enough for me to see from upstairs.

“I see the bodyguard pulled out his good shit tonight,” Sage commented, breaking my trance.

“Don’t do that. Ishmael always looks fly.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t always wear diamond frames.”

Nervously, I wandered around the room, making sure I had everything I needed for the night, then I made my way out the front door. The night breeze welcomed me outside, and Ishmael’s dimpled smile soon followed.

I strutted over to him, swaying my hips like an African beat played in my head. “I see you brought out your Sunday best,” I greeted him.

“In that case, I guess every day is Sunday.”

“Oh. You’re on your cocky shit tonight. I like it.”

In the midst of our flirting, three black foreign cars sped up my mom’s driveway and parked behind the party bus.

My eyes did a lap around my head as I stepped away from Ishmael when Chaz and his friends walked in our direction.

His low growl made my eyes cling to my leather boots.

Ishmael may not have agreed, but I didn’t want him involved in my personal drama.

I didn’t need Chaz to latch onto the idea that Ishmael and I had something going on and act a fool during our booking.

A little while after Chaz and his crew arrived, Simone and some girls I worked with in the past showed up, and we got on the road.

I purposely sandwiched myself between Sage and Simone so Chaz wouldn’t have the chance to sit next to me. Luckily and unluckily, the spot planted me directly in Ishmael’s line of vision.

Are you mad at me? I texted Ishmael when I observed his tense disposition.

Superman : Mad at you for what? I didn’t say anything, Clarke.

I tried not to stare him down before texting back, Not verbally, but your body language is loud.

Superman: What is it saying, Clarke?

That you’re . . . bothered? I replied with a question mark since I didn’t know if I was right.

Superman: I’m here to work, Clarke .

STOP TYPING MY NAME! I responded.

Superman: I’m here to work, Lois Lane.

I couldn’t hide my smile before Chaz pointed in my direction.

“Who are you talking to? You blushing and shit.”

For a second, I forgot I had on makeup and swiped my hand across my forehead.

“You gon’ disrespect me like that?” Chaz quizzed between slits for eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We are not together. Four weeks without talking confirms that.”

“Bullshit! I gave you space to get your mind right since you’ve been acting like a bird brain.”

Ishmael cleared his throat, interrupting our back and forth.

“Do you need some water or something, nigga?” Chaz snapped.

My protector didn’t respond with words. He just smiled and looked down at his phone.

“Clarke, stop acting like this,” Chaz continued. “You know I can’t live without you, woman. I’m not perfect, but I’m perfect for you.”

I scoffed. “Bullshit. Would you want your daughter with a man like you? You would want her to love a man that cheats, lies, steals!”

“I’ve never stolen anything from you.”

“Chaz, you’ve stolen things I could never get back.”

Simone waved Chaz away before he could speak. “Enough of all this. She doesn’t want to talk. Give her some space until we get to the club. Damn!”

Instead of challenging her, Chaz openly poured a bump of coke on his knuckles then fed it to one of his nostrils. I slipped my shades on and faced the window to keep from calling him out. He wasn’t my man, and I didn’t need my words to be confused with concern.

The clock struck midnight as we pulled up to the lounge.

Ishmael stood up when the party bus slowed down.

From my seat, I admired how good he looked when he checked the gun tucked in his waistband.

I smirked when he cut his eyes at Chaz while he did it.

I never wanted tension between them to expand to the point of needing to cut with a knife, but I enjoyed having someone around to put a little fear in the user’s cold heart.

“Sage, you and Clarke’s friends will get out first. I’ll follow you, and the princess will walk between me and dude.” Ishmael looked at me over his shoulder. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’m going to be.”

A plethora of flashing lights hit us like fire to a blunt when our driver pulled the sliding door open. Careful not to trip over my jacket, I accepted Ishmael’s outstretched hand as I found my footing. There was a line of people waiting to get in, while others were fans pleading for a picture.

After walking the red carpet and taking a few pictures with Chaz, the club promoter escorted us to our section.

I had never been to the spot, but the two-story layout covered in gold, screamed elegance, though the crowd was rowdy.

The dancefloor was huge, and aside from the second floor being reserved for VIP, there was a rooftop area where guests could enjoy a blunt or a cigar.

When we made it to our section, I noticed we were placed between another reality couple and a group of men and women dressed in black and red, sporting diamonds. Most of the men looked like athletes, and the women at their sides rocked different styles but were all beautiful.

While everyone partied and enjoyed the perks of being in a private section, I stayed attached to Sage and enjoyed a mixed drink. We danced in our seats and talked shit about people on the dancefloor until Simone’s drunk ass crashed into the cushion beside me.

“Why are you sitting over here like two boring bitches in the club?”

Sage mugged her. “Boring? Bitch, we’re sipping and sitting pretty, while you’re over there dancing offbeat with a group of powder heads.”

“Sage, you got one more time to talk to me crazy before I slap the hell out of you.” She faced me. “Anyway, come dance with us! This wallflower shit is the same shit you pulled at the club a few weeks ago.”

“You know more than anyone why I’m not in the mood to party.”

“Right. That’s why I’m trying to turn you up!”