WILD THANGZ by Winston Chapman (An Essence Magazine National Best Seller)

Chapter 10

In late October, I was packed and running late to the Hartsfield International Airport to catch my flight to New York City to sing for all of the record label executives.

Neither Brea nor I had spoken to Trina. Well, Trina hadn't spoken to us. We'd left messages at the dorm for her, but she never answered any of our calls.

When we finally decided to go by her dorm, we found that she didn't live there anymore as her parents had made the move from Savannah to Atlanta and Trina lived at their new suburban home in Alpharetta, Georgia.

Brea was dropping me off at the airport and I hoped that I wouldn't regret allowing her to use my car while I was in New York for three days.

She needed my car because she had tried-out for and made the Atlanta Hawks cheerleading team. The job didn't pay hardly anything, only $75 per game and a pair of prime-seating tickets. But that didn't matter to Brea, she was all about the shine anyway. It was more about the fact that she was one of only 16-women that made it, out of over 1,200 that tried-out.

Her real job, well the way she made the rent money was still from selling her bootleg CDs and DVDs at the clubs and beauty salons. And of course, some of the revenue she got from the plethora of men that she dated.

I think being a part of the Atlanta Hawks cheerleading squad was just another magnet for her to use to intrigue more fellas by telling them she was a part of the team.

When I arrived at NYC's JFK Airport, the record label had a car waiting for me to take me to my hotel.

As I went to the baggage claim area, I saw a limo driver holding a sign with my name on it.

"Hi, I'm Jazmyn Wallace," I said to the man.

"Welcome to New York, Ms. Wallace. My name is Curtis, I'll be your driver while you're in town."

"Ohhhh-kaayyy?" I said sounding like a rookie, but lovin' every moment of it.

"If you'll be so kind as to point-out your bags, I'll be happy to collect them for you and put them in the car," Curtis said courteously.

After he'd put them in the jet-black Lincoln Town Car, I didn't know what I was supposed to do, so I offered him cash as a tip.

"Oh, thank you, but I can't accept it. Everything has been taken care of for me," he said.

I wonder if I was looking stupid to Curtis by not knowing the protocol. But Curtis seemed to be on my side by not making me feel bad about being in awe. He was black and in his late-20's or early-30's, so that helped.

"Just relax Ms. Wallace. The entire weekend, I'll take care of everything for you!"

"I appreciate it Curtis. Listen, you don't have to call me Ms. Wallace, you can call me Jazmyn," I offered to my new friend.

"Well, they like me to use a surname with clients," he explained.

"I won't tell, if you won't?" I smiled to him in the rear view mirror. "Alright, cool Jazmyn," he said, returning his own smile.

As we pulled into the luxurious entrance of The Plaza Hotel on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan near Central Park, my eyes widened and I wished that I had someone to share it with.

"Here we are, The Plaza Hotel," Curtis said, after opening my door for me. "Thank you," I returned, in a daze, busy looking around.

"You're already checked-in. Here are your room keys, Ms. Wallace and my card. Call me if you ever need to go anywhere, I'm on call 24-hours a day the entire weekend for you," Curtis said, as I was nervous about his departure.