Hip Hop Heat (2 page)

Lalana's panties were soaking wet the whole drive to Capitol Records in Hollywood.

Two weeks had passed since the wine-and-plastic-surgery-show afternoon with her friends; and everything, at least for Lalana, had changed.

A few days after the trio had hung out, Lisa had been at Lalana's again watching TV with her friend. An hour into channel surfing, Lalana's phone rang.

"Ms. Lalana George, please," the caller said.

"This is she," Lalana responded, speaking in her most professional-sounding voice.

"My name is Jennifer Price. I'm with Capitol Records, home of double-platinum rap mega-star MC ROC. Did you enter the 'Party with a Rapstar' contest?"

"OHMYGOD!"

"Oookay, I'll take that as a yes!" Jennifer said, dryly.

"OHMYGOD!" Lalana cried even louder. "Are you for real?"

"Ms. George, you've just won an all-expenses-paid weekend with MC ROC himself!"

Lalana thought she was about to pass out. MC ROC was her favorite artist, and her favorite masturbatory muse. "You better not be shittin' me!" she rasped. "Wait, is this Tina?"

Lisa pulled her attention away from BET and turned to Lalana.

"OHMYGOD! OHMYGOD!" Lalana cried, putting her hand over the phone's mouthpiece. "Lisa, you are not gonna
believe
this shit!"

"Whaaat?" her friend hollered back, irritated.

Lalana struggled to calm herself, but the excitement was overwhelming. She noticed Jennifer was no longer talking on the other end of the phone.

"Okay, Okay, I'm good, I'm cool," Lalana said, taking a deep breath. "Ma'am, you still there?" she asked, regaining her composure.

"Yes, I am. I'd like to give you information about where you can go to claim your prize."

"My prize! Okay, breathe, breathe," Lalana coached herself. She listed as Jennifer rattled off the necessary information.

"Okay, July 3rd, Capitol Records, before 5, driver's license, okay got it, I got it," Lalana repeated. "Yes ma'am! Yes!" Her heart pounded loudly in her chest. She paced the room; the nervous energy was all but killing her.

The conversation finally over, Lalana took another deep breath and walked to the sofa where Lisa sat. She'd been watching "106 and Park" on BET. And who else was performing but MC ROC!

"Did he do his thing yet?" Lalana asked, hoping she hadn't missed his performance.

Lisa shook her head no. Lalana recognized a strange glance, and knew it was time to dish.

"Okay, okay, lemme' chill for a sec," Lalana said, still trying to wrap her mind around her great news. She couldn't believe she had won a date with the most popular rapper in the country.

"Bitch, you got two minutes to pull yourself together then tell me what the hell is going on!" Lisa snapped.

Lalana held up a hand, closed her eyes, and shook her head slowly. "Okay, okay." Her eyes snapped open and her face broke out into a wide grin. She stared Lisa straight in the eye. "I just won the 'Party with a Rap Star' contest!"

Lisa's eyes grew wide. Her mouth fell open.

"Bitch, what?!"

Lalana shook her head.

"What is it? What's the contest?" Lisa screamed.

"'Party with a Rap Star.' Winner gets a weekend with some famous artist. I won a few days with MC ROC!"

"You didn't!"

"Okay," Lalana said, "if I
didn't
, then why am
I
going to Capitol Records on Hollywood and Vine two weeks from today?"

Lisa jumped up from the sofa and blasted the volume on the TV. Soon both women were singing every word of MC ROC's latest hit.

"Some say it's the way I grab them hips/others swear it's the way I lick them lips..."
Lalana sang along.

"
Either way I keeps it hot,
" Lisa joined in, "
chicks linin' up to get what I got..."

The two sang the chorus together:
"I'm MC ROC/12 thick inches strong/Come to me/I'm workin' you all night long/Yeah shorty I'm the real deal/I'm truly hung/I'm a freak for real/bring ya game face 'cause, you buckin' up against steel...
"

Lisa pressed the mute button on the remote and turned to Lalana. "Girl, it just hit me!" she squealed.

"What?" Lalana asked.

"Lemme go wit' you!" Lisa cried. "We could rock his world together, you know, tag team him. Remember, just the other day when his song came on the radio and we were talking about whether he could really go all night long like he brags about? Girl, we could do this shit!"

Lalana looked at her. She didn't want to hurt her girl's feelings, but the woman who called told Lalana to come alone.

"Look, I am not trying to mess this up," she told Lisa. "You just gon' have to live through me 'cause they said I had to roll solo on this one. Besides, you know I'll come back and tell all his business!"

Lisa frowned. "That ain't even right," she muttered.

A car horn brought Lalana back to reality. She was going nowhere fast in all the Hollywood traffic as she struggled toward the record company. If she didn't make it by 5, Lalana would have to forfeit her prize. She would sooner abandon her car in the middle of the busy street and hop along on one leg than she let that happen. The light turned green. Lalana sunk her foot onto the accelerator.

Lalana was petite, but curvy in all the places that mattered most. Lisa and Tina had always been envious of Lalana's natural beauty. Where they had to pile on make-up to hide flaws, Lalana's skin looked close to perfection with nothing more than a little pressed powder for shine control. Her full lips looked sexy with just a hint of gloss.

Lisa was thicker than Lalana, with skin the color of cornbread and a face marred by craters from years of acne. And while Tina and Lalana shared the same skin color, all similarities ended there. Where Lalana was top heavy, Tina could barely fill out her favorite tops without a padded bra.

Lalana occasionally highlighted her oval-shaped eyes with earthy tones, as she had today. Her thick and extra-long lashes were often mistaken for fakes. She was a natural beauty; but her good looks couldn't seem to help in at least one department.

Lalana's luck with men went from bad to worse with each dead-end relationship she found herself in. Kenneth was the latest in a string of losers Lalana was anxious to forget. She was admittedly a magnet for unsavory characters. Lalana blamed it on years of watching her single mother struggle to break the family's curse of going for the wrong men.

Lalana came from a long line of single women who never married. From her mother's great-grandmother on down, not one woman ever had a husband - at, least not one of her own.

Lalana swore off relationships and men for a while, pursuing instead intensive soul-searching. But months with no men and no sex only served to leave her horny as hell, trying desperately to force incessant thoughts of hot, steamy sex out of her mind.

Lalana turned into Capitol Records' parking lot with 10 minutes to spare. She was awestruck as she stepped into the building's crisp cool air. Two massive, life-sized cardboard cutouts of MC ROC stood near a staircase. Gold and Platinum albums lined the walls. Lalana listened to her heels click-clack on the marble floor as she speed-walked to the large information desk made of smoked glass.

"Hi, my name is Lalana George, I'm here to see um, Jennifer..." Lalana couldn't believe she was drawing a blank. In her excitement, she never wrote down Jennifer's last name. Warm embarrassment washed over her.

"Aaahh, Jennifer Price?" the young woman suggested.

"Yes!" Lalana answered.

"Just a moment." A button on the switchboard was pushed. As the receptionist made a call, Lalana glanced around the sleek lobby. It was tastefully done in navy and chocolate, plush leather chairs, and a massive flat-screen TV centered on the wall.

"Yes, ma'am," Lalana heard the receptionist say. "Ms. Price will be out in a second," she told Lalana. "Would you like something to drink while you wait?"

"Oh no," Lalana shook her head. "I'm fine." She walked toward the sitting area of the lobby as a door near the desk opened. A tall and thin redhead with pointed features appeared. The woman walked toward Lalana.

"You must be Lalana George." The smiling woman extended a slender hand.

"Yes, I am," Lalana said, taking the hand and shaking too hard. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said.

"No problem," the woman replied. "I'm Jennifer. Nice to meet you! Why don't we go back to my office so we can talk in private?"

Lalana followed Jennifer into a small office equally as impressive as the lobby. "Have a seat," Jennifer said.

For the next 30 minutes, Lalana received instructions and signed papers about confidentiality rules. Some forms even outlined the company's right to Lalana's likeness, voice and video for future broadcasting in conjunction with MC RO. Lalana excitedly signed or initialed lines Jennifer pointed to without reading a thing.

With all the paperwork in order, Jennifer took a phone call.

"Oh yes, I know," Jennifer said into the headset, leaning back in her chair. The door suddenly swung open and in walked three men wearing jeans. Each was at least six feet tall. The men's pants hung almost a foot below their waists. Gleaming white T-shirts caused Lalana to squint. And their jewelry! Each man seemed to have been dipped in a pot of
Iced-out
jewelry to perfectly demonstrate their levels of success.

From designer sneakers to neatly lined haircuts, everything about them said these men were true poster-boys for everything hip-hop. They stood looking around without uttering a word. Moments later, there
he
was; striding into Jennifer's office like he owned the place. Lalana's mouth opened wider with each step of MC ROC's Air Jordans. It felt like an honor just to breathe in the same air he was breathing out.

Lalana's eyes traveled slowly from the leather of his sneakers up his dark jeans to a massive, blinged-out belt buckle. A Presidential Rolex wrapped around one wrist while a diamond bracelet - at least six inches wide - sparkled on the other. Both arms were covered in colorful tattoos stretching up to bulging biceps.

The white tank top MC ROC wore did little to hide his washboard stomach. A diamond-encrusted
R
hanging from a platinum link chain rested in the center of it. He was absolutely stunning.

When Lalana's eyes met his, she noticed his pink glistening tongue glide across his lips as he smiled at her. She felt her heart melt and her panties go totally wet. Lalana wondered if those lips tasted as good as they looked. She crossed and uncrossed her legs in a feeble attempt at composure.

"'Sup," he said in her direction with a slight nod of his head.

Lalana couldn't find her voice. Jennifer quickly returned the phone to its cradle without saying goodbye and hopped up from her chair.

"Hey ROC," she greeted nervously. "This here is Lalana. She's the winner."

Lalana knew MC ROC was fine; but her eyes stood witness that not a single picture - even those carefully airbrushed for magazine spreads - ever did him justice. He was stop-and-stare gorgeous. When his gazed turned back to her, Lalana managed to ease up from her chair and stand.

"Hi, um, I'm Lalana," she muttered, realizing she'd simply repeated what Jennifer had already said.

A movie-star smile stretched across MC ROC's handsome face. He nodded again. "That's what's up," he said.

His sexy, hooded bedroom eyes fell to her legs, then crawled north over her entire body. He sucked his teeth like a piece of steak was lodged between them as he settled on her breasts; then again said, "That's whassup for real," before turning to his entourage, offering a slight nod, and returning his attention to Lalana.

The guys bumped fists with each other. One turned to ROC: "She tight, Dawg!"

Lalana giggled in spite of herself.

MC ROC turned and took a step toward the door. Lalana's heart sank. But the rapper turned to look at her again: "Wassup Shorty, you rollin' wit' me, right?"

Before anyone could ask for clarification, Lalana grabbed her purse and stumbled in an effort to catch up with him. If only he knew, she thought with a smile. She would follow him straight through the gates of Hell without him even having to ask.

Lalana's mind raced as she and MC ROC walked out to the parking lot. The sun had set, giving way to a perfect, balmy evening. Lalana walked a few steps behind ROC's entourage, overwhelmed by her good fortune. Suddenly ROC stopped and took a phone call.

Lalana stood off to the side to give him some privacy, watching as the other guys rushed to their respective vehicles.

"L," ROC said, "show Shorty here to my ride. I'll holla in a minute; I need to handle some business real fast."

L - a man Lalana hadn't noticed, appeared.

"I'm Logan," he said.

Logan was a towering six and a half feet tall, with mocha-colored skin, a neatly shaped Afro, and a muscular frame. His voice was deep and gave Lalana the sense he had a pleasant disposition.

When they arrived at the car - a custom Bentley! - Lalana jumped back to allow him to open the door for her.

"Ma'am," Logan began, "um, you mind if I ask you a question?"

The question itself startled Lalana. "Oh, I'm so sorry, sure, and my name, I mean, you can call me, Lalana," she stammered.

"Okay, let's get in," he said, holding the door open. After closing Lalana in, he rushed around and jumped into the driver's seat before glancing in the direction of where MC ROC stood using the phone. Logan adjusted the rearview mirror and asked Lalana if she was comfortable.

"Oh, yes sir," Lalana said. "I am."

"You don't remember me, do you?" he asked, his voice a bit shaky.

Lalana was baffled. "Um, should I?" she responded, hoping she didn't sound rude.

"Lalana George, right? Lemme see. You graduated from Washington High, right?" Logan asked.

"Yeah," she nodded slowly, squinting and searching her memory. "You went to Washington?"

"Yeah." Logan grinned ear-to-ear. "I can't believe you don't remember a brotha." He chuckled, looking at her through the rearview mirror.

"Well, turn around for me!" she cried. "High school was a long time ago." But even with him facing her from the front seat, she couldn't place him.

"You were at Washington for all four years?" she asked.

"Yup, freshman to senior year. Just like you."

"Damn, I'm usually good at recognizing people from my past." Lalana felt embarrassed. The look on Logan's face suggested the subject was somehow important to him.

"Well," he chuckled. "We went to school together, but I wasn't exactly in your circle."

"My circle," Lalana repeated.

"Yeah, you know, the popular kids. I was hidden behind thick Coke-bottle glasses, and a mouth full of braces," Logan admitted.

"I wouldn't say I was
popular
," Lalana defended.

"Let's see," he said. "Head cheerleader, dating the captain of the football team, captain of the tennis team - need I go on?"

Lalana felt her cheeks redden. How could he remember so much about her when she couldn't so much as recognize him?

"I'm sorry," she shrugged.

"Hey no worries," Logan answered. "You can't expect to remember everyone."

Lalana smiled warmly and decided to politely hear him out until MC ROC showed up.

"So you went to Washington," she said. "You must've lived in the neighborhood."

Logan shook his head. "Nah, I'm from the East Side. I went to Washington 'cause my mom's sister lived in the area. She didn't want me to go to Jefferson."

Would it be rude of Lalana to turn and see what was keeping ROC, she wondered? Maybe she could catch a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. Logan seemed friendly. He looked good, too. But Lalana was focused on ROC.

"Yeah, I remember when you used to go with... Damn, what's that cat's name?" Logan snapped his fingers trying to trigger his memory.

"So, how long you been working for MC ROC?" she asked, trying to change the subject. She was a startled by the sudden look of hurt on Logan's face.

"I'm sorry," she offered, "did I say something wrong?" "Nah, nothing like that," he answered. "It's just, well, I don't work for MC ROC. I work for myself."

"Oh, do you?" Lalana didn't mean to sounds so sarcastic.

"Yeah," Logan said. "I mean, I'm driving for him, but that's just because my regular guy had to go down south to see about his mom."

"So, lemme get this straight," Lalana said. "You're MC ROC's driver, but you
don't
work
for
him?"

Logan chuckled. "No, he's one of my regular clients. But I own a car service. I mean, I have a fleet of cars and a list of preferred clients. There are some I have to handle with kid gloves, but business is real good overall. Since my driver is gone, I had to fill in."

Before Lalana could respond the door flew open. ROC eased himself into the back seat.

"Sorry 'bout that Boo," he said. "We ready to roll now."

Neither ROC nor Lalana noticed the disappointment that washed over Logan's face.