Hot Boyz (14 page)

Rashaad warned, “I’m ’bout to score again real quick. Has he always felt like a dad to you?”

“Always, I can’t imagine having any other father.”

“What would you do if your father showed up out of the blue?”

“I’d tell him to get to steppin’. He hasn’t been a father to me in all this time.”

“Don’t you feel like telling Auntie Venus that sometimes. To get lost, I mean?”

“Not really. I just wish sometimes she’d back off and just be my dad’s woman, not my mom. I don’t need a mom.”

“If that’s the way you feel, it’s cool.” Rashaad stopped playing for a minute, pressing pause. “Hey, isn’t my mom’s friend Sequoia fine, dog?” He put his hand up for a high-five from Cameron.

Cameron slapped him back immediately and then gave him a look. “I’ve noticed. But, aren’t you a little young to be checking out grown women?”

“Don’t tell me it’s cool for you and not me. You’re only a little bit older than me,” Rashaad said.

“No, I ain’t mad at you, though. She’s got a big old ham hock booty, huh?”

“A big old juicy booty.” They both laughed and resumed playing.

Mercedes yelled from the room next door, “Rashaad, when are you two going to go to bed?”

Rashaad froze as he replied. “Soon, Mom. But there’s no school tomorrow because of faculty meetings.”

“Still, you need to go to bed. All I hear are your deep teenage voices in there. I’ll give you until midnight. I think that’s enough.”

“Okay Mom,” Rashaad laughed under his breath, bumping Cameron with his elbow.

“Good night, you two,” Mercedes said.

“Good night,” they replied.

Cameron asked. “Do you think she heard us, dog?”

“Please, my mom? If she did, she’d have been in here so fast.”

They resumed again, speaking lower.

“But yeah, Sequoia is a hottie. How come she couldn’t be my stepmom?” Cameron asked.

“Even Colette is a serious honey, too,” said Rashaad, with a gleam in his eyes. “She could be my auntie any day.”

“Uncle Torino, oh, he’s always getting the ladies. How’d he get so lucky? He’s all old and stuff.”

“He’s not as old as my dad,” Rashaad said.

Mercedes’s voice bounced off of the wall and into Rashaad’s ears. “Rashaad, make that eleven thirty with your loud mouths.”

Rashaad looked stunned, like he thought she’d gone into her bedroom.

Cameron whispered to him, “She’s still right next door, man.”

She spoke again. “Change the subject and tone it down.”

Cameron looked at Rashaad with his mouth open.

“Yes, Auntie Mercedes,” said Cameron, speaking for his cousin. “Just one more game and then let’s go to sleep,” he suggested. Mercedes’s footsteps could be heard walking out of her office and down the hall.

Rashaad spoke low. “That’s bound to come up again. My bootie is grass. I say we do it now.” He turned off the game and the boys called it a night.

It was time for Mason’s big night at his club. Everyone was dressed to the hilt and ready for an evening of fun, dancing, and celebrating.

“I see Claude decided to get himself out of the house tonight, huh?” Mercedes asked Venus. Mercedes wore a knee-length jersey dress. They were seated at a private bar table.

“Yeah, he was actually acting like he was looking forward to the celebration with his brothers. He’s really so proud of Mason.”

“Who’s with Mamma?” Mercedes asked.

“Cameron. He’s good at keeping an eye on her. But she’s really been keeping to her room and staying out of places where she can get into trouble.”

“That’s good.”

Suddenly, Colette walked up sporting a black halter cat suit. Venus spoke first. “Hey, Colette.”

“Hey, I really thought you and your husband weren’t going to be able to make it.”

“Well, Claude had it on his calendar after all.”

“I see,” Colette said, looking over at Claude who was near the bar.

Mercedes looked over, too. “Claude looks especially handsome tonight.”

“I shaved his head this morning. I just love doing that. It’s such a turn on,” Venus said with a smirk about as sexy as her mini-dress.

“Okay?” said Colette, sounding like Venus was simple. She
switched her sights to Mason, who was talking to one of the record producers. “Mercedes, your muscular man is a stud. He just rules the world right now.”

“He’s doing okay for himself.”

Colette told Mercedes, “I think it’s such a trip that every young girl and boy in the country wants to be just like Mason Wilson.”

“Oh, Lord. I can’t imagine that,” Mercedes joked.

“Hey, baby.” Torino came over and gave his woman a hug.

Colette responded. “Hey there, cutie. You sure have this place looking good.” She rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, when the owner gets honored, it’s pretty serious. I don’t want to miss a step. Hey, Mercedes. Hey, Venus. How’s it going?”

“Just fine,” Venus replied.

Mercedes hugged him. “I’m cool. You really do have this place together.”

“I see you ladies are representing the Wilson men well,” Torino complimented.

“Thank you,” said Colette all by herself.

Sequoia approached. “Hey there you all. What’s happening?”

“Hey, Sequoia,” said Mercedes.

“What’s up Torino?” asked Sequoia. Her low waist pants and cropped top matched her skin color exactly.

Torino looked surprised. “Oh, you’re speaking to me tonight, huh?”

“I’m fine thanks,” she said, being facetious.

Colette inquired, looking puzzled, “You two weren’t speaking before?”

“No, he’s tripping. Where’s Kyle?” Sequoia asked.

Torino asked back. “Why?”

Sequoia explained. “I need to check with him about the guest list for Wednesday night, that’s all.”

“I’m the one who approves the guest list. Not Kyle.”

“Well, approve me on that list with two of my girls. Please?”

“I’ll think about it.” He turned to face Colette.

“What’s with the attitude, Torino?” asked Sequoia with a sour look.

Colette peered around her man. “What’s with your attitude
with my guy, Sequoia? You’re trippin’ and then acting like he should do you a favor.”

“Nobody was talking to you.” Sequoia informed Colette.

“Well, I’m talking to you.”

Torino turned to face Sequoia and blocked Colette with his back. “Cool it now. I’ve got you for Wednesday.” He turned to Colette. “I’ll be right back, baby. I see Cicely.” He walked away without looking back.

“I’ll come with you,” said Colette, keeping one eye on Sequoia.

“Who made her his watchdog?” asked Sequoia as Colette switched away.

“Sequoia, ask yourself why you talk to him like that,” said Mercedes.

Sequoia reached in her purse for a stick of Juicy Fruit. “Oh, he loves it. I’ve known that booty since I was in middle school. He can handle it. Want a stick?” she offered.

“No thanks. Maybe that’s what you really want, is for him to handle it,” said Venus. “Did you ever think of that?” Venus looked around to check for Claude’s whereabouts.

“Yeah, right. That skinny little dude. I likes my men four inches taller than me and six inches wider. I’d hurt him.”

“Please, Torino towers over you by a foot,” Mercedes commented. “Either way, when Colette’s around, nobody gets anywhere near Torino’s butt. That girl is on him like white on rice.”

“I noticed. When did that start?” asked Sequoia.

Mercedes glanced over at them. “I’m not sure. I don’t remember her being like that before either. Maybe something happened to damage the trust, who knows.”

Sequoia guessed. “Maybe she just knows what a dog he is.”

“You don’t know that,” Mercedes replied.

“Oh, please. I see him up in here running his game in the name of promoting. That boy gets coochie like Oprah gets paid. And with Kyle by his side, they are double trouble.”

“If you say so,” said Mercedes.

“So where is the man of the hour anyway?” Sequoia asked, smacking the sweetness out of her gum.

Venus answered. “He’s over there, surrounded by the cheerleader-looking women and the businessmen.”

Mason peeked over the heads of a few of his guests and pointed at Mercedes, giving her a just-one-minute gesture.

Mercedes nodded to confirm. “He’ll make his way over soon. He’s just doing what’s required of his profession—being sociable.”

It was time for the emcee to speak to the club goers. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome me in honoring a man who is gifted beyond imagination. A man who excels in a sport rarely thought of as one that African-Americans could or would succeed in. He has, to say the least, succeeded.

“Mason Wilson started his life in Houston, Texas, living in a rural area surrounded by acres upon acres of land. His dad took him out into the fields where he practiced putting with a baseball bat and tennis ball. When his family moved to Los Angeles, Mason asked his father if he would take him to the driving range to hit some balls. After five or so buckets, his dad was tired, but Mason was not. Not being able to afford lessons at the time, his dad taught him all he knew. After a while, Mason was eating up the game of golf, and his dad had to admit that he did not know enough about the game to teach his son any longer. By the age of ten, Mason was playing eighteen holes like it was nothing, sometimes beating grown men.”

Mason stood next to his wife looking humble.

The emcee continued, “One day, Earl Woods, Tiger Woods’s own father, caught a few of Mason’s strokes and suggested that he call one of his instructors to be evaluated. The result was that Mason Wilson had a gift. The fourteen-year-old dazzled the instructor, almost to the point of reminding him of the talents of little Tiger Woods at that time. The instructor contacted PGA scouts who tracked Mason’s progress for the next five years.

“After graduating from high school on a golf scholarship, Mason attended the University of Southern California, where he met Mercedes, who he later married just as his career was starting to take off.”

“Who wrote this bio?” Mason whispered to Mercedes. She grinned.

“For the next fifteen years, Mason Wilson set records and excelled at a level that stunned the golfing community. Even some who had downplayed Mason’s potential as a minority golfer soon had to give it up to him and his A-class game. Mason has won just about every title there is and he’s still going strong.

“Children of all ages, races, and faiths know of Mason Wilson’s accomplishments and his motto of striving for greatness. Mason speaks at schools and churches and is a true example of a man who has made it, against all odds, with determination, practice and focus. Mason Wilson lets all of us know that whatever our skills in life, goals in life or trials in life, we can make it with determination as long as we have faith and we believe. His hard work has paid off and we want to thank him for showing us that we, too, can excel with hard work. Mason Wilson, the African-American Role Models Association would like to honor you with our humanitarian award in the field of athletics. Mason Wilson, we present you with the Arthur Ashe award of excellence.”

“Finally,” Mason said out of the corner of his mouth.

The club members clapped and whistled as Mason approached me stage. The head of the AARM Association gave Mason the twelve-inch statue of Arthur Ashe and handed him the microphone.

Mason looked it over, and then put his mouth to the microphone. “Wow, who is that man you speak of? I’d like to meet him.” The crowd laughed. “I’d like to thank the AARM Association for this honor. It has been a long road, and yes it has taken a ton of faith to stay on this road. But I could not have done it alone. As for my parents, I pray that all young people have a special parent or parents that they can look up to. I thank Jesse and Mattie Wilson for making me feel as though I was good enough to be somebody. They took the time to teach me and encourage me and love me and I appreciate that. To my dad, who is looking down from heaven not only now, but every time I step onto the fairway. Thanks, Dad. Everywhere I go, I take a piece of you with me.

“And to my brothers, Claude and Torino Wilson, who are here
tonight, thanks for the love,” Mason said, nodding to them. “They are my best friends and confidants. There is nothing like the bloodline that exists between family. I’d do anything for you two.” His brothers nodded back.

“And last but surely not least, to my beautiful wife, Mercedes. None of this would have been possible without you. You stood by me, forgave me, loved me, inspired me, had my babies, Rashaad and Star who I love so much. And you had my back so many times I can’t even count. Thanks, baby, for standing by my side no matter what. And I do mean no matter what.”

Mercedes blushed and blew him a kiss.

“Now I say we get this party started and fill these walls with the sounds that this club was built for: partying. Thanks again, everyone, and thanks to my fans. Good night.” The crowd put their hands together and showed their love as he handed over the microphone.

“Shake it Fast” by Mystikal started to play just as Mason made his way off of the dance floor, with antsy couples exchanging places with him to get their groove on. Mason went over to his wife after shaking hands with a few more people.

Mercedes gave him a huge hug and kiss. “That was great, baby. Speaking of writing, when did you write that acceptance speech?”

“I didn’t. I just said what was in my heart.”

“Mason, that was wonderful,” Cicely said, leaning into Mason’s ear and grabbing onto his left arm.

“Yes, it was. Very nice speech,” said a woman standing behind Cicely.

“Thanks, Heidi,” Mason replied.

Heidi extended her hand, “I don’t think we’ve met,” she said to Mercedes. Heidi’s tongue was pierced with a gold stud.

Heidi was no baby. She looked to be in her late thirties and was thick and curvy. She had a butterscotch complexion and long, Cherokee red hair, all one length that hung midway down her back. Her keen features and golden brown eyes added to her striking aura. Her ginger lips looked as though they were painted on with precision. Her previous coworkers at Ladera Realty called her
Miss Beverly Hills because she exuded such class. Some of them even teased her and called her Beverly. She’d say, “Miss Hills to you,” just to play along.