Hip Hop Heat Read Free

roll solo on this one. Besides, you know I'll come back and tell all his business!"
    Lisa frowned. "That ain't even right," she muttered.
    A car horn brought Lalana back to reality. She was going nowhere fast in all the Hollywood traffic as she struggled toward the record company. If she didn't make it by 5, Lalana would have to forfeit her prize. She would sooner abandon her car in the middle of the busy street and hop along on one leg than she let that happen. The light turned green. Lalana sunk her foot onto the accelerator.
    Lalana was petite, but curvy in all the places that mattered most. Lisa and Tina had always been envious of Lalana's natural beauty. Where they had to pile on make-up to hide flaws, Lalana's skin looked close to perfection with nothing more than a little pressed powder for shine control. Her full lips looked sexy with just a hint of gloss.
    Lisa was thicker than Lalana, with skin the color of cornbread and a face marred by craters from years of acne. And while Tina and Lalana shared the same skin color, all similarities ended there. Where Lalana was top heavy, Tina could barely fill out her favorite tops without a padded bra.
    Lalana occasionally highlighted her oval-shaped eyes with earthy tones, as she had today. Her thick and extra-long lashes were often mistaken for fakes. She was a natural beauty; but her good looks couldn't seem to help in at least one department.
    Lalana's luck with men went from bad to worse with each dead-end relationship she found herself in. Kenneth was the latest in a string of losers Lalana was anxious to forget. She was admittedly a magnet for unsavory characters. Lalana blamed it on years of watching her single mother struggle to break the family's curse of going for the wrong men.
    Lalana came from a long line of single women who never married. From her mother's great-grandmother on down, not one woman ever had a husband - at, least not one of her own.
    Lalana swore off relationships and men for a while, pursuing instead intensive soul-searching. But months with no men and no sex only served to leave her horny as hell, trying desperately to force incessant thoughts of hot, steamy sex out of her mind.
    Lalana turned into Capitol Records' parking lot with 10 minutes to spare. She was awestruck as she stepped into the building's crisp cool air. Two massive, life-sized cardboard cutouts of MC ROC stood near a staircase. Gold and Platinum albums lined the walls. Lalana listened to her heels click-clack on the marble floor as she speed-walked to the large information desk made of smoked glass.
    "Hi, my name is Lalana George, I'm here to see um, Jennifer..." Lalana couldn't believe she was drawing a blank. In her excitement, she never wrote down Jennifer's last name. Warm embarrassment washed over her.
    "Aaahh, Jennifer Price?" the young woman suggested.
    "Yes!" Lalana answered.
    "Just a moment." A button on the switchboard was pushed. As the receptionist made a call, Lalana glanced around the sleek lobby. It was tastefully done in navy and chocolate, plush leather chairs, and a massive flat-screen TV centered on the wall.
    "Yes, ma'am," Lalana heard the receptionist say. "Ms. Price will be out in a second," she told Lalana. "Would you like something to drink while you wait?"
    "Oh no," Lalana shook her head. "I'm fine." She walked toward the sitting area of the lobby as a door near the desk opened. A tall and thin redhead with pointed features appeared. The woman walked toward Lalana.
    "You must be Lalana George." The smiling woman extended a slender hand.
    "Yes, I am," Lalana said, taking the hand and shaking too hard. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said.
    "No problem," the woman replied. "I'm Jennifer. Nice to meet you! Why don't we go back to my office so we can talk in private?"
    Lalana followed Jennifer into a small office equally as impressive as the lobby. "Have a seat," Jennifer said.
    For the next 30 minutes, Lalana received instructions and signed papers about