As soon as we got off the plane and walked down to the terminal there was a limo driver waiting. He was holding up a sign that read Purpose Driven, Inc., which was the name of one of G’s front companies. I felt like I was in a foreign damn country or somewhere down in Chinatown. There was Japanese writing on all the signs and so many Oriental people it wasn’t funny.
Honolulu didn’t look nothing like New York from the ground. Yeah, the crowds were out there and the traffic was mad, but it was clean and smelled good and I rolled down the window in the limo and sucked up the saltwater smell all the way to the hotel.
G had booked two penthouse suites at the Kahala Mandarin Oriental Hotel, and if I thought our apartment was large, it didn’t have shit on the Kahala. I knew all this had to be costing G some mad yardage, but I also knew he could afford it. Our suites had connecting doors and there was a king-sized bed, a dining area, and a separate spare bedroom in each one. By now I was used to quality stuff. G had exposed me to the best that money could buy and he didn’t believe in skimping. After borrowing Gino’s cell phone and leaving a message at the apartment for Jimmy so he’d know we’d landed safe, I checked everything in the room out thoroughly and decided it was up to standard.
We were all travel-tired and G was getting cranky. We ordered a bunch of food from room service, but by the time they brought it up G was shivering and sweating like he was running a fever.
“Let me run you a shower,” I told him, trying to get back on his good side. If I was gonna be here for ten damn days I didn’t want there to be no unnecessary tension. I started the shower for him, and while he was in there I took his silk pajama bottoms out his suitcase and laid them on the bed and put his slippers on the floor beside the tub.
Me and Gino both picked over our food until G got out the shower, and then Gino left to go to his room and I stripped out of my clothes and got into the shower myself. I was tired as hell, even though it was still early in Honolulu, because of the time difference. A few minutes later I was washed and oiled and had my hair tied down with my favorite silk scarf. I brushed my teeth and said a prayer for my baby brother, then climbed my ass in the bed next to G and crashed.
Chapter Fourteen
G had a boil. Right in the crack of his ass.
It was our first morning in Hawaii and I was ready to get out and see me some sights. Instead G had called me into the bathroom and showed me his split.
The hotel was even grander in the daylight, but there was no way I wanted to be cooped up in it. G had arranged a three-day private tour of the island for us and I was ready to hit it. The hotel clock had said 8:12 A.M. when Gino knocked on the door and asked if anybody wanted breakfast. G was still sleeping, after tossing and turning most of the night, so we went ahead and ordered some French toast, turkey sausage, and scrambled eggs and told them to bring it up to Gino’s suite. The food came pretty fast so I slipped on a robe and went next door to eat so we wouldn’t disturb G.
Gino was sitting on his bed dressed in a pair of Joe Boxer pajama pants. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and the hair on his chest was thick, black, and very curly.
“Hold up,” he told me when I walked in. He snatched a shirt from a bag by the bed and put it on real quick, covering all those muscles he was packing. I really dug his complexion. It was milk chocolate like G’s but more creamy. His hair was jet black and even his moustache was curly.
“ Hawaii is pretty,” I said, looking out the window. He had opened his curtains and the window and balcony covered one whole wall.
“Looks like it.”
I didn’t really know what to say to him. Even though he wasn’t all that much older than me, we lived in worlds that were miles apart. I had no respect for him coming back to Harlem to roll with fleas, and the first time he ever laid eyes on me his father had had me up against a wall, busting my ass. Our first impressions had been ill.
The food smelled so good! I liked the way Gino uncovered my food and then pulled out my chair, then passed me a cloth napkin. I watched him on the sly as I shook the napkin out and laid it in my lap. He opened my Evian and poured it into a glass of ice, then asked me if I wanted him to say the grace.
Grace? Shit, I hadn’t heard or said grace since Grandmother died. It was nice, though, to hear it again. I figured it was his mother or whoever had raised him that had taught him his home-training, because G damn sure didn’t say nobody’s grace!
I had poured coconut syrup over everything on my plate and me and Gino were chowing down and laughing at a Hawaiian cartoon when G bust through the connecting door and ordered me into our bathroom to look up his ass.
“What it look like, Juicy?” he asked, bending over with his black ass all up in my face. He’d been burning up with a fever all night and I could still smell it on him.
“Nasty,” I said. “It looks real nasty, G. It’s fat and has a pink head on it with some white stuff at the tip. Want me to try to squeeze it out?”
He jumped his ass back. “Girl, you crazy,” he said letting his cheeks go and hobbling away. He could barely close his legs good enough to walk and I felt real sorry for him. Grandmother used to get them nasty-looking boils in her armpits all the time so I knew they hurt like hell.
“You need to put a hot washcloth on it, G. Draw it out with some Black Salve or some Boil Ease. Want me to call down to the desk and get you some Tylenol or something?”
He was running water in the tub. “No. Call down and tell them to bring me up a bottle of Courvousier and some ice.” He climbed into the tub and eased himself down in the hot water. I’d never seen him look like this. Sweat ran down the sides of his face and his lips were dry and chapped.
“Don’t you wanna eat some breakfast first?”
“No. I want some Yak.”
Yak it was. I called room service and told them to bring my man a liquid breakfast. “So what about the tour today?”
G waved his hand. “Y’all go. I got some calls to make, then I’ma sit right here and soak my ass all day.”
I eyed the tub. “We’re getting picked up at nine, right? If I don’t get a shower real quick I’ll miss the ride.”
“Damn, Juicy! Figure shit out, girl! Go across the way and take a goddamn shower! Gino ain’t gonna bite you, and as much as I laid out for the tour them motherfuckers bet’not leave you neither!”
I got out his way. He was sick and mean and I knew it wouldn’t be long before he was drunk, too. I’d only seen G get tight a couple of times, but I remember how ugly liquor made him.
Gino was already dressed when he opened the door for me.
“Your father is in the bathtub,” I said, standing there holding all my shower shit. “Can I use your shower?”
He stepped aside to let me in, but didn’t say anything. I went into his bathroom and closed the door. He was just like his daddy. A neat freak. I could tell he had just had a shower because the mirrors were still all fogged up from steam. His razor, toothbrush, and a diamond ring were sitting next to the sink, and the towel he had used was folded up on a little stand near the door.
My mind was going in ten different directions as I stood under that hot water. It was real hot and hard, just the way I liked it. I felt all funny inside but I didn’t know why. Yeah, I was excited about seeing someplace new, and yeah, I felt sorry for G with that fat boil on his ass, but there was something else rumbling through me, too.
The Kahala was a top-quality hotel and the shower proved it. The water hit my skin like little fingers, massaging my muscles and my neck. I poured creamy shower gel all over my washcloth then stroked myself from head to toe, letting the suds glide over my skin as the scent filled the bathroom.