We sat on the beach in identical chairs far away from other people. I really wanted to get in the water, but Zeke had talking plans. He pulled out a notebook and ink pen like he was in school.
My brows merged, "What's that for?"
"I'm gonna ask you some questions, and I just want your honest answers. That cool?" He held the notebook in a way that made it hard for me to see what he would write.
I nodded my head.
Zeke began, "Have you ever dyed your hair?"
Random! "No, but I've worn different colors before."
"What colors?"
"Umm, brown, blonde... burgundy and purple. I was really excited when I wore purple hair." I grabbed a handful of sand and slowly released it.
Zeke cleared his throat, "Are you into fashion?"
"Not today's fashion. I have a strong like for old Hollywood glamour. I love the dresses they wore."
Zeke said, "I like your voice. It matches the way they spoke back then. Don't change that."
"My speaking voice?" I inquired.
"Yeah. So, I know you like R&B. Are you interested in singing other genres?"
"Yes! Pop, maybe rock, and I have to sing a Jazz song at least once. My dad played Jazz all the time when I was a kid."
"Who are three old artists that you would like to collab with and three new artists?"
My eyes opened wide. "Dead or alive?"
"Yeah."
I looked out at the ocean, the waves - one after the other. It was beautiful. "Three old artists would be Michael Jackson, Curtis Mayfield, and Whitney Houston. Three current artists would be Beyoncé, Beyoncé, and Beyoncé." I laughed.
Zeke smirked, "Who are the other two current artists?"
"Oh, how could I forget to mention Aja Frost? I would love to work with Aja Frost. Her remix to 'My Girl' is my favorite from her." I sang the lyrics, "When it's cold outside... He's thinking about me... I guess you could say... What can make a man pay... Aja, I'm his girl, they all know I'm his girl, he brings me the whole world, he spends and I twirl..." I had to stop myself before I got carried away.
I looked at Zeke as he was writing. I wish I knew what he was writing. Then, he asked, "What is one thing that scares you about fame?"
I don't know how much longer I can do this. I took a deep breath. "One thing that scares me about fame... is... being a one hit wonder, and being chewed up and spit out. I don't want to be too naïve, and then get tricked into doing something that goes against how I was raised."
"Like what?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "I guess like... sleeping with people and being oversexualized. I want to sing, because I want to sing. I want the first thing people to notice is my voice; not what I'm wearing or how I look."
"But we are visual creatures. It's not just men. It's women, too. They're looking for the next person to compare themselves to, who they can dress like, and get inspiration from." Zeke licked his lips. "My last question is do you think you're attractive?"
I arched a brow. "Wh-what kind of question is that?" I didn't want to answer.
"You've looked at yourself in the mirror before. You know if you're attractive or not," Zeke told me. "Do men ever tell you that you are beautiful or cute, sexy?"
"Sometimes," I answered. "Do you think I'm attractive?"
Zeke didn't take his eyes off me. "I didn't fly you out to California, offering you a singing career, because of how you look."
I mumbled, "I can't change how I look."
Zeke closed his notebook and took off his shirt. "Looks can be changed, though. The question is... should they be changed?" He stood up and held his hand out to me. "Let's go have some fun now."
I took his hand without a second thought. "Thank you!"
I ran towards the water, kicking up sand along the way. I looked down at my sandals and nearly had a heart attack. I quickly took them off. "No, no, no, no, no. I got sand all over them."
I was turning around when Zeke caught up with me. He turned me back around. "You can clean them off in the water."
"These are a gift from you to me, and I'm already mad that I messed them up."
"It's just a pair of shoes, Jamie. They don't breathe like you and me," he explained.
I shook my head, "These cost a thousand dollars. Do you know how much a thousand dollars can buy me? I can pay my rent, my utilities, gas in my car, groceries..."
Zeke took off his sunglasses and threw them in the ocean.
My mouth was wide open. "You are insane."
"Gold is real value. Money is just paper. I was born into money. I had my phase of blowing it, but now I spend it smarter. I don't pay for everything I get. The sunglasses I paid for are still at home, put away. I try to have a relationship with every business I know I can profit from. Your swimsuit is from a new clothing brand called Primavera by designer Suzie Cantrell. We hang around some of the same people, and her parents are up there with the politicians."
Zeke continued, "I didn't throw the sunglasses to say throw other people's money away. I did it to show you that it's replaceable." He took my sunglasses off my head and put them over his eyes. Then, he ran to the ocean.
"Hey!" I dropped the sandals and chased after him.
We played in the water for about twenty minutes before I heard my stomach growl. How I heard it over the waves in the ocean is beyond me, but I also felt it. "I haven't ate since I got on the plane," I admitted.
"I know the best restaurant to go to. Do you like fish?" Zeke asked me.
"Like? I love fish."
We left the beach together. When we got in the vehicle, Keri Hilson's "Pretty Girl Rock" was playing.
"Is this Maximo's playlist?" I asked Zeke.
"I told him to play it." He looked at me.
"Why?" I dried myself with the beach towel.
"I think it's how I'm going to communicate certain things to you. You are attractive, Jamie. You're beautiful. Tell yourself that every time you look in the mirror."
What could I say to that? I added it to my memory bank as I waited to be fed fish and fries or chips as he called it. This pretty girl was starving.