Page 37 of Kisses Behind the Spotlight

“I have to be confident enough in myself to know that you aren’t stepping out on me when women are constantly in your face. Throwing themselves at you! Every time you are even too close to a woman, blogs start rumors, and everybody and their mama runs with it. But I know you’re solid, so I don’t flinch. I never batted an eye. The one and only time I need you to trust me, I don’t get the same in return. You came in here talking to me like I ain’t worth shit. I wasn’t even worth the conversation. Fuck you, Q!”

“Jameera, I apologize but⁠—”

“But nothing, Q! All I wanted was a chance to explain, and I wasn’t even worth that!” Jameera bellowed. “I went into the hotel room because there were two other women in the common areas when I arrived. They both quickly disappeared, so I went to place his clothes on the couch so I could disappear too. When I turned around, D3 was so close that I froze. He wasn’t wearing clothes, was giving me weird vibes, and I got nervous. Right after he put his hand on my waist the second time, I slapped the shit out of him and ran out of there. I told my father and Amill we would no longer be styling him. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make it a big thing. He’s still my father’s artist at the end of the day, and I was trying to keep the peace.”

“So that means he gets to disrespect you?” Q questioned.

“No, but I just wanted to keep the peace. You know what, I don’t want to talk anymore. I’m leaving!”

“Wait, Jameera. I love you more than anything. I fucked up, and I apologize for coming at you like that. Everything you said was facts. I should’ve trusted you above all else. Can we please go home and talk this out? I’m willing to do whatever to make shit right,” I pleaded, reaching for her hand.

“No! And don’t touch me. I’m leaving.”

Jameera started for the door, and I was right behind her, pleading my case all the way to the elevator.

“Ummm, y’all. Please don’t do this in the hallway. We are already on thin ice with the HOA,” Amill remarked, trailing behind us.

The elevator doors opened, and Jameera stepped inside. I slid on behind her, and Jameera spun around, shoving me back out of the elevator.

“Alright, everybody calm down!”

“Jameera, I don’t think you should leave. Come back inside and let Q leave. He was calling me a hoe too. He’s not welcome at my crib either,” Amill pleaded with her.

“She’s right. Leave me alone. I just need some time,” Jameera demanded, yanking Amill down the hallway towards her door.

I stepped on the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. On my brief trek to the florist, I texted Khaleesi to apologize and see if she was willing to come back to work. She agreed, and I sent her details, informing her that work would resume within the next 24 hours. I called the charter company I’d been using for years and had them rearrange our trip to Morocco for the following day.

Our lowkey Valentine’s Day was scrapped, and we were going to Morocco. That was the next destination on her list, and we were supposed to go in April, but we needed the baecation now. It was the one thing I knew Jameera wouldn’t turn down.

After placing my order with the florist, I sat and sent Khaleesi a few additional details for what I wanted to do while in Morocco. We were crunched for time, but I was sure that Khaleesi could get everything done. I’ve seen her do more with less time, so I was confident she’d pull everything off.

An hour and a half later, I was back in front of Amill’s door with brunch from their favorite spot, two bouquets of white roses with a small Moroccan flag in the center. My hands were full, and I had to turn to the side and allow my elbow to hit the doorbell camera.

“We don’t negotiate with terrorists, but we are always accepting free food and flowers,” Amill bubbled, stepping aside to grant me entry.

I sauntered over to her table and set the items down.

“You know you messed up, right? You came in there like she was your enemy and not the woman you love.”

“I know. I fucked up.” I took a deep breath.

“Jameera told me to take the food and tell you she left, but she’s in the guest bedroom taking a shower. Just give her space today. She already told me she’ll be going home later, and she’s been staying here since you left,” Amill detailed.

“I appreciate you, sis,” I smiled.

“Between you and me, did you do something to D3? TMZ put out a story that he was transported to the hospital via ambulance last night. Jameera hasn’t used her phone in days, and I haven’t told her, but it’s all over the blogs, and people are already speculating that you did it or paid someone to do it.”

“Ion know what happened to him,” I lied, walking towards the guest bedroom with the flowers grasped tightly in my hands.

“Q,” Amill called, rushing behind me. “She told me not to let you bother her.”

“I’m just going to leave the flowers on the bed. As mad as she is, I still need her to know we are going to Morocco tomorrow so y’all can pack your shit.”

“Morocco!” Amill bubbled, bouncing on her feet, then stopped suddenly. “Fuckkkk, we just agreed to style a client for the Super Bowl since she thought she was permanently single.”

“Fuckkkk,” I echoed her sentiments.

“Don’t worry. I got you. Y’all need to take this trip and unplug. I’ll handle the work solo.”