Larger Than Lyfe by Cynthia Diane Thornton Read Free Book Online Page A

direction. A wave of uneasiness came over Keshari. It was Marcus Means. Ricky had to have sent him. Marcus Means, nor anyone else affiliated with The Consortium, had ever set foot inside Larger Than Lyfe’s offices nor any Larger Than Lyfe function since the record label’s doors opened.
    Keshari smiled back at him and waved him over.
    “Hey, girl,” Marcus said amiably.
    Keshari played it cool.
    “What’s up, Mark? Since when did hip-hop become a part of your repertoire?”
    “Maybe I’m expanding my repertoire.” He smiled.
    The two of them strolled over to one of the more secluded areas of the dimly lit outdoor living room and sat down.
    “So, what’s up? Are you alone? What brings you here?” Keshari asked.
    “Yeah, I came alone,” Marcus answered.
    They were both silent. Marcus took in the flashily dressed partygoers across the patio and their narcissistic party ritual. He appeared to be somewhere between feeling mildly repulsed and amused as he watched them.
    “I saw Rick today,” Keshari said. “Trial commences in threeweeks. His attorneys are beginning to suggest that they, at least, consider a plea bargain with the D.A. Rick is livid and totally against it.”
    “I know,” Marcus responded. “A plea bargain wouldn’t happen anyway. This is a high-profile, first-degree murder case. The victim is a prominent, White attorney and the accused is a high-profile, Black, alleged gangster who’s managed to escape indictment for YEARS. The D.A. wouldn’t even consider plea bargaining with Rick unless he turned informant on every connection he’s ever had.”
    “When’s the last time you talked to Rick?” Keshari asked.
    “I saw him today.”
    Keshari knew that Ricky had to have told him about their discussion, about her wanting out of The Consortium. Marcus stared at her long and hard before he finally commented.
    “Be careful, girl,” he said. “You’re skating on thin ice. I’m very serious when I tell you this. Rick loves you. We all know this… but this is business and you know the business.”
    Keshari stared back at him, but didn’t respond. Marcus knew that she understood him and he made no move to further elaborate. A moment later, he was gone. Although Keshari was sitting directly under one of the heating lamps lining the chic terrace, goose bumps stood out on her arms. She could do one of two things. She could get through the rest of the evening and be confident that she could come to some acceptable compromise with Rick, or she could become so paranoid and stressed about her situation that she began making the kind of serious mistakes that could get her killed.
    “What in the hell are you doing over here alone?” Terrence, Keshari’s assistant, said. “You look like one of these fish tales just stole your man. This party’s fierce! You run this! Why don’t you get yourself in the mix and enjoy yourself?”
    “I just needed a minute to myself to clear my head,” Keshari said, smiling at Terrence reassuringly.

    He sat down next to her and wrapped his arms around her. She put her head on his shoulder.
    “It’s been a long and fucked-up day,” she told him, “and I don’t even want to begin to try to tell you about it.”
    Terrence looked down at her with concern.
    “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. “You’re shaking.”
    “YES,” Keshari said emphatically. “I’m fine…I’m fine. I just need a good night’s sleep. I’ll be prepared to suit up and conquer the world again tomorrow.”
    Terrence wasn’t sure that he was convinced, but he let it go.
    “You’re on in about fifteen minutes,” he said gently. “Michael Webb and Christina Perlmann from RIAA just arrived.”
    Keshari, along with representatives from the Recording Industry Association of America, would be presenting Rasheed the Refugee with a platinum plaque for his third album,
Ghetto Proverbs
.
    “I’m ready,” Keshari answered.
    “Anytime you need to talk, I’m here,” Terrence