Free God Don't Like Haters by Jordan Belcher

"But I would like
to ask for"—I leaned to the side, and with two fingers I squeezed
an imaginary apple seed—"one teensy-weensy little favor."
    He put his hands on his
hips and made an  umph  sound, as if he hated
favors. But I could tell he was one belly-poke away from a smile.
Men liked it—or couldn't resist it—when women begged.
    "I don't do favors," he said.
    "Just this one. Please?"
    "What is it?"
    "My producer, Gee Beats, is a functioning
alcoholic," I explained. "Is it okay if he has an open bottle or
two on stage while he's deejaying?"
    "Open bottles, no. Cups, yes."
    "He needs a bottle."
    "I need a Ferrari."
    "Have a heart, Jason."
    I said his name like I knew him. But all I
really knew about him was what he posted on The Site, which was the
avenue I used to contact him. Jason Carell had a hellavuh following
and an impressive track record in promotion. And I was sure he knew
that I managed two of the hottest artists in Kansas City.
    His eyes were checking me out. He stuffed
his hands in his slacks pockets, shifting his weight to one foot as
if trying to look behind me at my ass. He was wearing a suit. And I
was wearing a suit for girls—a classy white jacket with a
bootytight skirt.
    "My daddy was a wino," Jason said. "He drank
day and night."
    "So you understand the struggle then?"
    "Yes. He killed himself by jumping off a
bridge. He was holding my mother when he jumped."
    I gasped.
    "Your producer can have his bottle," he said.
"But it's at your own risk. If your people under-perform, they
won't be welcomed back. The whole city will be watching."
    "Thank you, Jason." I gave him prayer hands
and a little bow. He shook my hand and walked off.
    I stood there in the aisle with my purse
strap on my shoulder, looking around at this enormous indoor arena.
There were more than 19,000 seats. The Sprint Center's first
concert was by the English singer and songwriter Elton John, and
now this stage would be blessed by the up-and-coming rapper Coras
Bane.
    I hated that I had to ask Jason to allow Gee
Beats to carry his liquor bottles into this prestigious venue. It
was a waste of a favor. We were nobodies, basically, making
ridiculous requests that should have only been reserved for
celebrities. I had talked to Coras more than once about starting a
new team. Gee Beats had a horrible addiction and Kirbie Amor
couldn't be counted on. But Coras, as bullheaded as he was, swore
we had the best of the best.
    Blind,  I thought.
    But who was I to call Coras
blind? Here I was, a college-educated woman of God, competing for a
drug dealer's love against a jobless female who expected hand-outs
(Monifa) and an even younger girl who was not only a negligent
singer but a pill-selling hoodrat (Kirbie).  Where did my standards go?
    Andre "Coras Bane" McDougald was just
supposed to be a one-night stand. I hated that I welcomed him into
my life and agreed to help his career. Now I couldn't pull away. I
was invested. At first I tried to tell myself that he was just a
good dick, a fun disposable thug that tickled my happy place every
so often, but then his sex became an integral part of my health and
well-being. He became more than meat. I had fallen in love.
    My phone started ringing.
    I sat down in a fifth-row seat as I went in
my purse for my cell. My shoes were killing me! These steampunk
stilettos were no joke. I crossed my legs.
    "Hello?" I answered.
    "May I speak to Ashleigh Hedgman,
please?"
    I didn't recognize the voice.
    "This is she. Who's calling?"
    "Hi, my name is La'Renz
Taylor. I'm the CEO of Taylor Music Group. I just came across a CD
titled  Swope Park Gritter Vol.
2  that I found very interesting. On
the back I saw your contact info."
    Oh my God! This was La'Renz "Buddy Rough"
Taylor! I had followed his outstanding career and accomplishments
long before I even had an interest in being in the music business.
La'Renz had been a multi-millionaire before he went to prison.
Taylor Music Group was a brand name. I had just