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of time together. Whenever he had an event I was right there on the red carpet with him chinning and grinning. Award shows. Premieres. Vacations. Shopping sprees. But also plenty of romantic surprises and hearing “I love you.” That ninja was straight on point . . . until he got out of my eyesight.
    I called his phone and it went straight to voice mail. I didn’t bother leaving a message. He would eventually call me back and have his excuse ready. I’d heard them all:
    “I turned the ringer down by mistake.”
    “I couldn’t hear the ringer over the loud music.”
    “I was sleeping. I didn’t hear it.”
    “You know I don’t like to be interrupted when I’m in the studio.”
    “I texted you . . . didn’t you get it?”
    I sat up in bed and reached for the pack of Newports I kept in the top drawer of my nightstand. Visions of him eating the pussy of some random bitch ate me up inside as I leaned back against the leather-padded headboard and lit the cigarette. I only smoked when I was stressed the fuck out.
    I dialed Goldie’s cell phone. I hated to call her this late, but my desire to talk to Make$ outweighed any doubts or concerns I had.
    My heart was racing as I listened to Goldie’s phone ring in my ear.
    “Whaddup, Luscious?”
    I exhaled a stream of smoke, filling the air with the smell of Newports. “I hate to call you so late, but I been calling my so-called man’s phone and that motherfucka ain’t answering,” I said, hating how hard my heart was pumping. Hating it even more how desperate I felt.
    “After the show, I left him and his crew at the venue. Maybe he’s in his suite wasted. They was drinkin’ and smokin’ like crazy.”
    I tucked my phone between my ear and shoulder as I tapped the ashes into the palm of my hand. “Would you go check his room for me? I don’t know why he ain’t let me go with him.”
    The line stayed quiet and that made me go all stiff and shit. I frowned. “Yo, Goldie, go check and see if he in his room . . . motherfuckin’ alone,” I said, climbing out of bed to dump my ashes into the commode in our adjoining all-white master bath.
    I dumped the cigarette too, the taste of it making me nauseous. The embers went out with a hiss. I didn’t even inhale.
    “Luscious, I’m in my bed. Just keep trying his phone.”
    I paused on my way back to the bed and looked down at my phone like “You ain’t that tired.” I would have hopped up out of bed and did a bed check on her man if she asked me. Who cared if it was 2 a.m.? “I tried the other girls but they at some club,” I told her. Meaning? There’s no one to do it but you, Goldie, so stop playing.
    “If I see him before we fly out I’ll tell him you was looking for him. A’ight then. Night.”
    Click.
    It wasn’t Goldie’s responsibility to keep up with my man, but damn. The letdown and the hang-up. That shit felt like “Bitch, fuck you.”
    Bzzz.
    My phone vibrated in my hand and Make$’s face filled the screen. My heart pounded. “Hey baby,” I said, feeling the pleasure in my heart that he called even as my doubts fucked with my head.
    “We just left the after-party. I wanted to call you before I went to bed. Tired as fuck, you know. This touring kicking my ass but I gotta hustle until I sign that new deal with a big advance, you know?”
    I nodded but to keep it one hundred, I really didn’t know. Make$ made a good enough living, and we lived well but nothing over the top. He had more than enough to slow the fuck up some. “I know,” I lied, focusing on hearing any noises in his background to peep if what he told me was the truth.
    I heard the television and I relaxed a little bit. I pictured him sitting on the edge of the bed, no shirt, just boxers, jewelry still on.
    Make$ yawned. “I know I’m away a lot but when I get back next week we’re going on a trip. Wherever you want,” he promised.
    Now this the shit. Make$’s word was good like money. I knew that all I had to do was point