Page 6 of A Little Kissing Between Friends

“We made something for you.”

A little squeal might’ve slipped from my lips. I brought my fists up to my cheeks and peered at the container. Laughing, Anna peeled off the top.

“Baked beans gyoza.”

I gasped.

“Whatchu say?!” The pan-fried dumplings smelled amazing.

Tessa smiled. “It’s a small token of our appreciation of you. You’re not only one of our favorite regulars, but you spread the word about our little business and it shows.”

Nodding, Anna added, “We aren’t yet able to fit marketing into our budget, but as soon as we can, you can expect to be put on payroll.”

“Y’all are so sweet. I’m not doing this for any money, so don’t even worry about that right now. I do love getting to try new dishes though!”

They laughed and handed over the bag, with a promise to see me later. They absolutely would. Not only was the food amazing, but they were good people, and that went a long way with me.

Food secured, I navigated onto the highway and headed southwest to Rhythm & Rainbows, the studio Cyn co-owned with the rapper Xeno. Xeno was Poppa’s other best friend. They’d known each other since they were teenagers and essentially built their careers together. While Poppa did all of her work behind the soundboard, Xeno was an incredibly talented and incredibly fine rapper. She’d been major in the city for nearly a decade, but started blowing up on a national level a few years ago after being name-dropped by a heavy hitter in the rap game, which catapulted her and Poppa’s careers from small stages at local festivals, to requests for tracks from major labels, to nominations at prominent award shows.

The center where the studio was located was surprisingly crowded for a Thursday evening. I texted Poppa that I was outside, and by the time I reached the door, she was already there, holding it open for me. I expected her to make a joke about the food I carried, or stand back and let me enter the building, but she did neither of those things. Pulling a wide grin out of me, she stepped onto the sidewalk and spread her arms wide. We’d spoken on the phone briefly when she landed at Hobby before meeting Carissa in the pickup line, and we talked when she told me about the latest song she’d finished, but I hadn’t seen her in person in so damn long. It felt like forever, and a hug from my bestie boo was an invitation that I’d never decline.

I skipped into her embrace and propped my chin on her shoulder, cheesing from ear to ear as she squeezed me tight around my back. She was warm and soft and felt like home.

It didn’t hit me until just then, but ordinarily we were attached at the hip so I’d been missing home in her absence.

“I missed you, Marie.”

Throwing my head back, I cackled at her use of my middle name.

“I missed you too, Poppa.”

While it wasn’t a rare occurrence for her to lock herself in the studio while she hyperfocused on bringing a project to completion, the nearly two months without seeing each other was a length of time I wasn’t accustomed to.

After a final squeeze and lil rock from side to side, I stepped back and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She shook her arms out as if I’d been the one holding on too tight instead of the other way around, took one look at the bag of food in my hand, and shook her head.

“I should’ve known.”

I smirked at her dry tone. “You absolutely should’ve.”

Pursing my lips, I ignored the rolling of her eyes and stepped around her to the lobby area of the studio. While I waited for her to lock the door, I observed her. For someone who’d been sitting in a dark room all day, she looked good. Her purple basketball shorts and gold t-shirt were only slightly wrinkled, giving her the look of a co-ed from her alma mater, Prairie View A&M University, who was on the way to class. A matching logo baseball cap covered her head, the bill off-center and tilted down, as if she’d been tugging on it while she worked. The two gold chains hanging from her neck completed the relatively simple look.

Door locked, Poppa turned to me, those deep-set, hooded eyes that reminded me of the late Christopher Wallace eyeing the plastic sack expectantly, a slow grin lifting her round cheeks.

Her eyes swept up to my face. “What’d you bring?”

“Your favorite from Yee-Raw.”

“Hell yeah,” she moaned, bringing her fist to her mouth. “You always lookin’ out. Come on to the back.”

Taking the bag from me, she grabbed my hand and led me through the lobby and down a short hallway toward the larger of the three recording rooms. Rhythm & Rainbows had a simple layout, much like an old shotgun house. There was a studio on either side of the hallway and one at the back of the unit, and all three were named after famous women in music. Missy was the one at the back, slightly larger than the others, and was Poppa’s personal studio that she and Xeno used exclusively. The other two rooms, Foxy and Queen La, held much of the same equipment, according to Poppa, but her heart was in her boards. A quick peek into the window of one of the rooms showed a trio of women standing around the room, bobbing their heads as a fourth woman fiddled with dials on the soundboard.

Inside of Missy, two women sat on the small couch against the wall, and a man sat on a stool inside of the recording booth.

“How y’all doin’?” I greeted, offering a nod to the women before taking the bag back from Poppa and bringing it over to the small, two-seat table near the door. They returned the greeting, polite smiles on their faces as they nodded my way. One of the women quickly turned her attention back to her phone, but the other kept her gaze on me, her expression pinched with overt curiosity.

Crossing the room, Poppa leaned over the soundboard and pressed a button, her eyes on the man on the other side of the window.

“Say, Hitta. Gimme five right quick.”