The Real Deal Read online

  In fact, she did everything she could to do the exact opposite, adding to my point when she said, “You’re so full of shit, Gavin.”

  “Nah, that’s all you, Reagan. I’m just tryna keep up.”

  &

  Our plates had long been emptied, but we were still in the booth chattin’ and tossin’ back drinks like old friends. Reagan had a different air about her when her hair was down and the top couple buttons of her blouse were undone. She was… goofy, and brash, and sexy. Even sexier than she was all put together in her office. And that switch-up made her all the more intriguing.

  “So we met where, again?”

  I smiled as I reminded her for the fourth time, “We met at my show, Reagan. Which is partially true so you shouldn’t have a hard time remembering that.”

  “Oh yeah. You held my hand in the crowd while you rapped that nasty ass verse and that was enough for me to find you and fuck you backstage after your show, right?” The twinkle in her eyes wasn’t enough for me to figure out if she was teasing, or she was drunk, or she was…

  “What?! I mean, damn…. Shit, I wish!” I said with a laugh that I hardly recognized. “But no, I saw you in the crowd and found you after the show. Asked you out and the rest is history.”

  She took another sip of her drink, smiling as she asked, “And we’ve been dating for how long?”

  “A couple months. Two, maybe three. All casual though so she doesn’t think I was hiding you from her. She was already trippin’ cause she hadn’t met you yet; callin’ you her daughter-in-law and shit. Talkin’ about grandkids.”

  “Grandkids? Do we need to go rent a baby too?”

  I busted out laughin’, mainly because of the serious expression on Reagan’s face. “Nah, sweetheart. It’s not that deep. And where the hell do you rent babies from anyway?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Pose as a babysitter for a few hours, I guess.”

  “And you say I’m the criminal.”

  “That’s not being a criminal. That’s using your resources,” she quickly replied without a budge as if she had already done it a time before.

  “Frame it how you need to, Reagan. But we met at the show, we’ve been at it for a few months; what else do we need to cover?”

  She thought for a moment, taking another sip of her drink. “Umm… future plans. Is marriage on the radar?”

  Her eyes were twinkling again, causing me to smile wide as I answered, “We’re seeing where it goes. Taking it slow. Having fun.”

  She nodded to show her understanding. “Cool. Having fun, taking it slow, I can do that. This will be a piece of cake. Wedding cake. Pink champagne wedding cake.” Now her eyes were drifting off to space.

  So I brought her back down to earth by asking, “Do women really think about marriage that much or is it just the big, overpriced wedding that ya’ll fawn over?”

  She casted her eyes downward, thinking it over for a minute before eventually answering, “Honestly… the wedding. Most women wanna be a princess for the day, have the wedding of her dreams with the bomb ass photos, and the perfectly-fitting dress no matter how many pizzas and tacos she devoured out of stress in the weeks leading up to it.”

  “But what about you?” I wasn’t trying to be nosey, but Reagan’s apparent open-book mentality for the night had me eager to get all my questions answered while I had the chance.

  “Me? I’d be happy going to the courthouse.”

  I laughed before I could contain it. “Yeah fuckin’ right. That’s definitely bullshit.”

  She only shrugged as she said, “If he’s the guy for me, it doesn’t matter how we officially unite as one. I just want him. The right him.”

  “And you thought Michael was the right him?”

  She nodded, stealing another sip from her drink before she answered, “I did. He was… perfect. Great job, great with kids, fine as hell, amazing dick…”

  “TMI, Reagan.”

  “What? It’s a redeeming quality. But anyway, Michael was… he was the man of my dreams. And he wanted me. Little ol’ Reagan from the humblest of beginnings had grown up and snagged herself a doctor. I thought God was finally rewarding me for puttin’ up with so many ‘ain’t shits’ over the years. But nope, he had only tossed me another lesson.”

  I don’t know what came over me, but the urge to touch her swept me up before I could pull back. It was only a gentle grasp of her hand, but that small connection was enough to send a current through me so thick that it almost scared me.

  But I was me.

  A regular nigga on the come up in the music industry, playing the role of boyfriend to help Reagan save face. And now she was doing the same for me; willingly doing the same for me. And even if she was just returning the favor, the fact that she was helping me out still meant a lot to me.

  So I grazed her hand with my thumb as I told her, “Maybe God is showing you a bunch of ‘ain’t shits’ so the right him will be clear as day when the time comes.”

  And instead of pulling away, she smiled genuinely as she replied, “Maybe you’re right. But for now, let’s just get through this visit with your mom tomorrow.”

  Reagan

  “I can’t do this! I don’t wanna go! You can’t make me!”

  If anyone was around to hear us, they’d probably think Gavin was trying to abduct me when really we were just walking hand-in-hand into the hospital. The second we pulled up, a wave of nerves and guilt amongst other things rushed over me; so much so that Gavin had to practically drag me through the parking lot.

  He leaned down to the side to whisper near my ear, “Reagan, you gotta chill, girl. I told you it’ll be fine. Just trust me.”

  “Trust you? I don’t even know you.” I whisper-yelled back.

  His voice was low as he stepped in front of me, tilting my chin up with his hand as he said, “Yes you do. I’m your boyfriend. We’ve been dating for a few months. Remember, sweetheart?” His eyes were squinted as he challenged me to say something back. But really I couldn’t say anything back - negative or positive - because I always got lost in his eyes when he did that.

  Oh my God, does he already know his secret weapon against me?

  He grabbed my shoulders to calm me down as he coached, “You can do this, Reagan. I’ll be there with you every step of the way. Just do as least talking as possible and you’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t know how to not talk when I’m nervous, Gavin. Once my mouth gets going, it just never seems to stop.”

  He sighed, licking his lips as he leaned right back into my ear to say, “Reagan, now is not the time to be makin’ a nigga horny talkin’ about that mouth of yours.”

  My first reaction was to melt right there outside of the hospital doors. But I went with my second, which was punching him in the shoulder as I whisper-yelled, “Oh my God! You pervert. We’re going to see your mother!”

  He laughed, holding his arm as he tossed back, “That’s what I’m sayin’!”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, my lips pouty as he continued, “But seriously Reagan. Just relax, okay? Can you do that… for me?”

  I sighed, not answering with words but instead snatching his hand and strolling through the hospital doors. He took the lead, guiding us to the elevator and up to floor 3. We stepped off looking the part, Gavin’s hand against the small of my back as we caught side-eyes from the women at the nurses’ station.

  I leaned in and whispered, “Are they always like that?”

  To which he quickly answered, “Nah, they’re usually throwing me their phone numbers. I guess you crushed their dreams with your existence, sweetheart.”

  We stepped to the door of room 304, but before I let him take us inside I tossed out, “Well for the record, they can have you.”

  He only laughed, pulling me inside with a goofy smile. “Nah, you ain’t gettin’ rid of... Hey Mama!”

  My eyes landed on a woman who hardly looked like she just had surgery. In fact, I was starting to think Gavin may had been e
mbellishing about it being something as severe as heart surgery cause she was walking around that room like it was nobody’s business.

  “Baby! There you are. And here she is. It’s so good to finally meet you, Reagan.” She pulled me into a hug that I awkwardly returned, too surprised that she had actually addressed me by name.

  I was hoping she couldn’t feel my heart beating through my chest as I said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well… Ms. Griffin.”

  She brushed me off with a wave of her frail hand. “Oh please. Call me Mama.” I didn’t even know the woman’s first name and I was already upgrading to “Mama”.

  Lord, this is too much.

  “Mama, Reagan has to get back down to the center soon, so we can’t be here too long.”

  Geez, we’re already telling stories?

  She brushed Gavin off with a hand the same way she had done to me. “Oh hush up, baby. I’ve been talking to you for the last twenty-five years. I wanna talk to Reagan. Matter of fact, can you excuse us, Gavin? I’d like to have a word with her alone.”

  “Alone?” Gavin and I asked simultaneously. I was just sure my heart was gonna commit suicide at any minute from the pressure.

  Ms. Griffin smiled wide, new creases coming to her face as she said, “Oh my goodness, you guys are even thinking the same. But yes, I wanna talk to Reagan alone. That’s not a crime, is it?”

  She was talking to Gavin but her eyes were on me, forcing me to answer, “Umm… no. Of course not.”

  She shot her eyes over to Gavin, giving him the look that only a mother could send. And almost too naturally, he leaned in, giving me a quick kiss on my temple before he graciously bowed out of the room with a, “I’ll be back.”

  I’ll be there with you every step of the way, my ass.

  Once Gavin was completely gone, she wasted no time digging in. “So Reagan, tell me a little about yourself. Gavin has been keeping all the fine details of you such a secret.”

  I’m sure he has...

  She was busy getting herself settled back into the hospital bed, so I answered quickly, “Umm…. there’s really not much to tell, Ms. Griffin.” I still wasn’t quite comfortable with the whole “Mama” thing.

  “Oh, come on. My son hardly ever brings women to meet me, so I’m assuming you must be something special. So what is it? How’d you guys meet?”

  Aw shit, here we go….

  “We met… we met at one of his shows. He saw me in the audience and right after the show he tracked me down.” It was kind of funny how the stories we had came up with sounded like a dream come true under different circumstances. I mean, him tracking me down in the crowd would’ve certainly been a lot more fun than just social-media stalking him that night of the show.

  “So you’re a groupie?”

  I choked on my non-existent drink. Ms. Griffin was clearly coming from blood.

  I tried to remain calm as I explained, “Oh no. It was actually the first time I had ever heard his music. Your son is a really talented musician.”

  She wasn’t moved by my words at all. “Save the flattery for him. I’d prefer to know your intentions.”

  Damn, Gavin really knows his Mama.

  I had never been so grateful for a pre-meeting rehearsal in my life as I answered, “We’re just… taking it slow. Having some fun. Seeing where things go.”

  Her eyebrow piqued, similar to the way her son’s did when he was amused. “Seeing where things go huh? And where do you want things to go? Do you see a future with my son?”

  My answer came from a different place; an honest place. “Possibly. He’s a… really good guy.” Regardless of how we had come together and the shit show we were trying to pull off now, Gavin was actually panning out to be a good person.

  Great person.

  Fine ass person.

  She finally gave me a smile as she said, “I like you, Reagan. You’re pretty, seem smart, and you aren’t in here half-naked like some of the other floozys I know that try to hang around Gavin. I just want to make sure my son isn’t getting involved with someone who’s only using him. It’s so hard to tell these days, you know?”

  And that’s when the guilt settled in. I mean, sure I wasn’t using her son for his money or stature. But I was using him for something.

  He’s using you too, Reagan.

  “Oh absolutely,” I piped out in an airy, high-pitched tone I hardly recognized.

  “And my Gavin spoke extremely highly of you, so I can tell you mean a lot to him.”

  Wait… what?

  “He did? I mean… yeah, we… we mean a lot to each other.”

  Before I could really digest what his mother had said, Gavin came back into the room.

  “Alright, alright. Enough girl talk. Felt like a damn press conference out there with all those nurses asking questions about my girl here.”

  His girl?

  He smiled at me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder to pull me in closer. And just that little motion made me feel… protected. As if I could tackle any question his mother tossed my way and we could really pull this whole thing off.

  “Well since you’re back, let’s talk about these grandkids ya’ll need to get working on.”

  &

  “See. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  I thought it over and even though Gavin’s mom had hit me with some heat, the visit wasn’t the worst thing in the world. In fact, once Gavin came back, she was actually a really nice woman who clearly had her son’s best interest at heart.

  “Bad? Yes. So bad? No.”

  We were in his car headed back to the center so that I could get my own car and head home. It was a Friday night, so I was more than excited to not have any plans beyond catching up on the shows I had recorded on my DVR and drinking a bottle of wine. But something about Gavin’s company suddenly had me wishing I wasn’t gonna be doing it alone.

  “What’d she say to you when I left?”

  “Exactly what you said she’d say to me. She also said something about you speaking highly of me. What’s up with that? We’re not really supposed to like each other ya know,” I teased.

  “Well surprisingly enough, I actually do kind of like you. I mean, if you weren’t my fake girlfriend and supervisor, I’d spit game to you in a quickness.”

  I rolled my eyes, looking out the window so he wouldn’t see me blushing. “I don’t know if I should accept the compliment or punch you in the face. Maybe I’ll do both.”

  He let out a laugh as he asked, “Why you always gotta hit a nigga? I’m just sayin’. You’re not as bad as I thought. You’re actually… cool. Not the uptight chick I imagined you to be outside of the center.”

  I leaned over the middle console, taking a peek at his face. “So you want me to punch you in the left jaw or right? I can’t tell which one is your good side.”

  He leaned forward against the steering wheel to look past me so that he could check his side view mirror, laughing even harder. “Chill, Reagan. I’m tryna compliment you here.”

  “Yeah by saying, “You’re such a brutal bitch at work, but once you get a couple drinks in you, I’d smash.” Thanks, Gavin. I’m so flattered.”

  His smile was crooked as he used the hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel to stroke his stubble. “Nah, I’d smash regardless of your attitude.”

  The punch was gone before I could stop it, landing on his arm instead of his perfect ass face that I could never intentionally harm. But he only laughed at me as he always seemed to do, adding, “What? I would. Knock the kinks out. Ease the tension. Probably all you need.”

  “Probably all I need? So your dick is just supposed to be, what? Some kind of magic cure-all for my stress at work?”

  He smirked as he pulled into the parking lot right next to my car. “You know… I never thought about it that way. But you might be on to somethin’. Maybe I should get it patented. Sell it on infomercials.”

  Now it was me laughing as I climbed out of his truck, tossing over my shoulde
r, “You’re such a piece of shit.”

  He smiled proudly as he corrected me, “No, I’m your piece of shit… girlfriend.”

  Even though he was just teasing, I still swooned. Thankfully the driver’s side door to my car was there to catch me as I worked to unlock it.

  I was just getting ready to climb in when he called out to me through the window. “Hey Reagan.”

  I turned around to see him scrunched down in his seat so that I could actually see his face as he said, “Thank you for doing this for me. I really do appreciate it.”

  Was there really anything I wouldn’t do for him when he had his eyes locked on mine?

  I mean seriously, he could’ve been like, “Hey Reagan, come fuck me in the backseat real quick” and I probably would’ve done it without thinking twice.

  But instead of dreaming, I simply replied, “Just make sure you return the favor with double the enthusiasm next week.”

  Gavin

  “Man, I should slap the shit out of you. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, G. A lifetime! And you’re tryna skip out to go to a fuckin’ wedding? Fuck is wrong with you, man?”

  I knew there was no explaining this shit to Caleb, so I didn’t even try. Of course he saw me passing up a meeting with some record label execs who were potentially looking to sign us, to go to a wedding as the dumbest thing he’d ever heard. But I had a… responsibility, especially now that Reagan had already done a huge favor for me.

  I grabbed a slice of pizza from the box we were sharing before I settled in next to him at the kitchen island.

  “Can’t we reschedule with them or somethin’? There’s gotta be a way for me to pull off both.” The actual wedding wasn’t until 6 PM with cocktail hour starting at 5. But with the meeting being clear on the other side of town at 4:30 PM, it was hardly possible for me to do both as they were.

  Caleb grabbed a slice of his own as he answered, “I mean, maybe if we can somehow get the meeting moved up. But even that’s a stretch. You know how stingy these people are with their time.”

  “Well if they really wanna sign me, they’ll work around my schedule. Otherwise it’s just not meant to be.”