Riding Dirty on I-95 (34 page)

“What is it? You all right, old man?”

“I need a smoke,” Benjamin said, nodding towards the drawer on the credenza behind him.

Cleezy gave him a Cuban cigar, and they sat and had a drink together like two old college buddies as they waited for the attorney to call Benjamin to tell him that the release documents had been drawn up.

“I swear, man,” Benjamin said. “I didn't know she wasn't paying her people.”

“Well, she wasn't,” Cleezy informed him. “If she was, I wouldn't be here now.”

“I believe you. It's just that there have been times when she came to me for the money she needed to pay them.”

“Well, the joke was on you, huh?”

Eventually the attorney phoned Benjamin to let him know that he was faxing the documents. Once they arrived, Cleezy had Benjamin take him to the office where Cook'em-up and Tallya were. Benjamin walked into the room with his cigar in his mouth, placed the documents and a nice Montblanc ink pen in front of her, and said, “Sign right here.”

Tallya skimmed over the documents. “Baby, what's this? Why are you doing this? My company?”

“My company,” Benjamin corrected her. “Just sign them.”

Tears filled Tallya's eyes as she began signing on the dotted line. Benjamin might as well have been pouring gasoline on every dollar she ever got and lighting a match to it. The life she had been living was over.

“There's one more thing you guys forgot about,” Benjamin said.

Cleezy looked at him with a puzzled look on his face. “Pardon me?” Cleezy looked over at Cook'em-up as if saying, “Is this nigga stupid or something? Damn, I know we were drinking together, but I know he ain't about to help us out.”

“You nice fellas need to go into her purse and get her checkbook so that she can pay the artists whatever they are due from her own personal checking account. I'm sure she has it there. I mean, it has to be somewhere,” Benjamin said, turning his attention to Tallya, “since there isn't any money in the company account and the only thing that has been paid out of that account are bills to Louis Vuitton, Chanel, and Saks.”

Cleezy watched as Tallya damn near had a nervous breakdown coming off all of those ducats that she had hidden away in her own personal account.

“And don't even think about trying to stop payment on those fuckin' checks, either. You stop payment, bitch, you stop breathing,” Cleezy sharply and coldly reminded her. Tallya looked up at him, and his eyes confirmed to her that he meant business.

Cook'em-up suddenly intervened, as if having an epiphany. “You's a smart little bitch.” He then looked up at Cleezy. “It was in the name. It was all in the name.”

Tallya stopped whimpering for a minute and looked at him. “It was in the name, only motherfuckers just didn't get it,” Cook'em-up continued. The room was silent. “Bermuda Triangle. Motherfuckers don't never know what they getting into when they go into the Bermuda Triangle. I should kill you for being a bold bitch!”

“Package that shit up,” Cleezy said, turning his attention back to the release documents. “Put them in the FedEx envelopes and address them out. This is the last mail run for Bermuda Triangle.” Tallya did as she was told. “And it's like this. All that shit that you sold, talking that gangsta shit, that's what the fuck I live every motherfucking day. Every time you think you want to talk about this night, think about the worst killing ever done gangsta style, and that's what you are going to get.”

“And that's a promise, you greedy beyatcchhh,” Cook'em-up added.

“I'll make the drop of those packages for you.” Cleezy grabbed the packages and exited the house.

They went to the nearest FedEx drop box and put the envelopes in them. The next morning the packages were delivered to each of the artists. Some were greeted by letters from Tallya on their fax machines and e-mail accounts letting them know that their rights had reverted back to them. The next day, the coroner announced that Benjamin Arlow had died in his Hamptons mansion of cardiac arrest.

I
t was three days before the premiere of Mercy's movie. The front-page story on every newspaper stand as well as the top story on every news broadcast were all the same. “In a sad and bizzare turn, noted billionaire entrepreneur Benjamin Arlow died recently from a heart attack in his mansion in the Hamptons. It has been speculated that this was precipitated by an argument with his girlfriend, Tallya Daniels, whom he caught in a compromising position with two men in the home they shared. Daniels is currently on suicide watch in the county jail after being arrested for embezzling funds from Bermuda Triangle, the film distribution company that she and Arlow founded, and which Arlow recently dissolved.

“Immediately after the death, Arlow's daughter, Monique Arlow, pressed embezzlement charges against Daniels. When the authorities finally caught up with Daniels, she was on the Brooklyn Bridge about to jump.” On BET news, Monique Arlow provided the following comment: “My father had plenty of gold diggers in his life, but never has one ever got away with his riches.” She then looked into the camera and added, “And this goes for Ms. Daniels. I never liked the
bleep
anyway.”

As Mercy tried to digest the news about Tallya, the entertainment
reporter came on, and she heard another anchor say, “That brings us to Mercy Jiles's new movie,
A Snitch's Life
, which is about a drug dealer's girlfriend who kills a snitch to save him. The movie hits the big screen this week. Her first film was produced by Bermuda Triangle, but her new work was produced and distributed by Paramount Pictures—and the inside scoop is that the film is a winner! Two thumbs-up for Mercy Jiles.”

Mercy was overwhelmed by all the free publicity for her new movie as the gossip papers and shows called her for a comment on the “Bermuda Triangle tragedy,” as they called it. She spoke to any and all and pushed her new project each time. The day of the movie premiere, the response was overwhelming. Everybody who was anybody in the entertainment industry was at her premiere. There were major openings all over the country, and people came out of the woodwork to see her movie.

But her hometown premiere was the best of all. Ms. Pat showed up with all of her old cronies from the projects. Even Bri-anna was there, acting like she was one of the dang stars, but all in all she was cheering from the sideline.

“You look beautiful, baby,” Cleezy said as he removed her long mink coat that she endorsed for Alan Furs. He proudly escorted her into the lobby of the theater where they were showing the Richmond premiere. Mercy sat on the edge of her seat, listening to the reactions of the audience. They laughed and cried at all the right parts. When the movie was over, people applauded and the compliments flowed.

As she and Cleezy came out of the theater, Mercy saw so many people who wanted to meet her. It seemed like everyone wanted a job from her, including a very forgetful Farrah, who acted as if she and Mercy were old friends. Her mouth started hurting from all the smiling she felt she had to do. Mercy noticed a local reporter interviewing a woman in a long black dress outside the theater. It
was her momma!
Guyd damn people crawl from all under rocks when you make it.
She hadn't seen her since that day at the Ambassador Hotel. Her mother was still a good-looking woman, and now she was out here talking about “my baby girl … always knew she had talent. She takes after her daddy.”

Mercy stood there with her mouth open. Her mother looked over at her with proud tears in her eyes, and in that instant Mercy forgave her and released any hatred she had in her heart. After all, you only get one momma.

“You done so good, Mercy, baby,” her mother said. “I hope you can forgive me for not being the kind of momma you wanted me to be. I guess I lost my head after your daddy died. I know I can't take back the past; I can only move forward. I have God in my life now, and I am a changed woman.”

Mercy didn't know what to say. She might be able to forgive her momma, but she would never forget the way her momma ran around and desecrated her daddy's memory.

“I'll call you sometime,” Mercy said. “I have other events to go to, but when I get back and I'm not so busy maybe we can see each other.”

Her mother nodded as if that was all she could expect. “Well, let me pray with you before you go.” She pulled out her prayer oil and placed it on Mercy's forehead and began to pray

Mercy thought it was funny that her momma was there now when she didn't need a mother any longer. But hating her wouldn't do any good. Who knew what would happen? Maybe she and Cleezy would have kids someday, who might want to meet their old grandma.

Mercy's momma looked closely at Cleezy just as they were getting up to leave.

“You look familiar to me,” she said. “I wonder where I know you from?”

Cleezy shook his head and shrugged.

“I guess you just look like someone I used to know in my past life,” she said. “Mercy I do hope you'll call me when you get back. I've missed you.”

“Sure, Momma,” Mercy said, and then they were out of there and on their way home.

T
he next night Mercy was in Chicago for another premiere event. Cleezy had business to attend to, so Chrissie came with her instead. As Mercy was about to take the red carpet in front of the beautiful old theater, a guy bumped into her.

“Hello, beautiful,” she heard a familiar voice say. She turned to look and gave a little smile. “You look stunning,” he added as he looked Mercy over. “Besides being the woman of my dreams, I know you from somewhere. I just can't place it right now.” Tay-mar scratched his head as if trying to place her.

“Merci, merci
, we need you. We need you to pose for photos with the president of the NAACP and Condoleezza Rice,” one of her French publicists said as she tried to pull her away. Mercy turned back to Taymar.

“Look, I've got something for you. Please give me one minute and wait for me,” she said to Taymar, who by then had turned into a washed-up boxer who could not win a fight if his opponent was blindfolded. Although he played the stock market big, Mercy knew that his trophy, dime-piece, size-4 baby momma milked him for everything she could. The judge never cared that she had poked a hole in the condom to guarantee getting her claws on his riches. Radio personality Wendy Williams kept the public abreast on the latest lowdown on Taymar. He was the
ongoing joke on her radio show and every other urban radio show.

He beamed and made goo-goo eyes at Mercy as she smiled for the flashing cameras. Once she was done, she was notified that she only had a few seconds before she was to make her grand entrance on the red carpet. She headed back over to Taymar. Standing before him, she dug into her three-thousand-dollar clutch and pulled out the small, worn Liz Claiborne wallet that her father had given her for her last birthday before he was killed.

“You are so beautiful. Have you ever experienced love at first sight?” he said to her in a sincere tone, admiring her flawless makeup and shapely figure.

“Only once,” Mercy answered him.

“Well, I am experiencing it now. I really want us to build something from here,” Taymar said.

“Look, that was possible at one time,” she said, and handed him a piece of paper.

“What's this?”

“It was my inspiration, and I owe it all to you.” She pointed to the boarding pass he now had in his hand. “I have been saving this for you for a while now. My dad always told me to be careful what you say, because if you speak it you can make it happen. I think the last thing I told you was ‘See you on the red carpet.’ And look at us now.”

He hadn't realized that the beautiful woman before him was Mercy. After running through so many women in his day, he had forgotten about her, but now everything was coming back to him. He tried to recover by saying, “I know, and you looking real good, too.”

“Well, maybe I was off a bit. You're not on the red carpet; you're just a spectator. Lost your A-list status, huh? Well, as it
stands, you ain't a good look for my image, so if you'll excuse me.” Mercy's publicist called out to her. “Do you know what
my
publicist would say?” she said to Taymar as she walked off.