A Brief Letter from the Desk of Riley Freeman:

It's been brought to my attention that I'm bein' portrayed as a bitch nigga that loves these hoes.

And a Mariah Carey lookin' ass hoe at that.

I just wanna say this ain't got shit to do with me or my creator Aaron McGruder, OR my boy and co-producer Carl Jones.

I, Riley Escobar Freeman, will NEVER. EVER. love a hoe or a bitch.

So leave me outta this shit!

- Reezy

Chapter Two

"And I'm gon' shine, homie until my heart stop."
- The Game

Samuel Tishler had been a great manager to Jazmine over the course of her career, but eleven years later, she'd grown tired of going back and forth with him.

"Samuel, what is this?" She glanced around the audition room, frowning as some girls scoffed the second she walked inside. "I like to be prepared for my casting calls, remember?" She grabbed a script from the chair next to her, flipping through the first few pages. "And what is this? Sam…."

He huffed, having the nerve to look irritated with her.

It was becoming increasingly clear to Jazmine that Sam still saw her as the sixteen-year-old he'd scouted at Woodcrest High.

But things were different now.

She was a twenty-seven-year old woman— with two Emmys and an Oscar.

And in time, Jazmine truly believed she could become an EGOT, but only if her team (and Sam), would listen to her.

Which, as of late, still wasn't happening.

"What?" Samuel blinked innocently, his sea-blue eyes taking a wolfish gleam, like he knew he was overpowering her and he liked it. "Didn't you say you wanted to be taken seriously, to be showcased as an adult and not the quintessential girl next door?"

Well, yes, she had, but she hadn't meant it like that, and they both knew it.

"Look, Sam." She frowned, glaring down at the script. "I want to be seen as a powerhouse actress, not as some…sex symbol."

Some girl behind her snorted, just shaking her head.

"Too late." Sam shrugged, not bothering to dwell on her jaw nearly dropping to the ground. "From the moment you stepped on the scene, you've been compared to women like Angelina Jolie, Scarlett Johansson, Meagan Good, Lauren London, Regina Hall-"

"So eye candy." She shot him a skeptical look. "I won't deny that they're talented actresses, but I doubt that my acting is what's being discussed in the comparisons you just mentioned."

"But it could be." Sam countered. "This script is already prepped to be the mega-hit of the summer!" He nodded. "And with you as the lead actress, this movie is guaranteed to make billions, billions!" He smiled wide. "And the male leads, well…." He shifted his collar proudly. "I'm a straight, cisgendered male of course, but I gotta say….they're not half bad." He gestured to some of the men, who were clearly eavesdropping, staring at her with hungry eyes. "Who knows?" He smirked. "Maybe you could have a little onscreen romance? Find a co-star and a fling?"

Jazmine rolled her eyes.

"You know I have a strict no-costar policy." She glared. "There's mild nudity in this, action scenes, and a requirement for me to gain ten pounds, lose fifteen, and basically play a woman slowly losing her mind until this guy shows up!" She huffed, exhausted just thinking about all the work she'd have to put in for this role. "This is basically Mr. and Mrs. Smith: The Prequel!"

"A darker version of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, way more rich than the original." He held up his hands when she opened her mouth to yell at him, waving them around innocently. "And I don't mean that literally, not entirely anyway." He held up the thick script, thumbing through its pages. "I'm saying this movie delves deeper into their psychology, their emotions." He nodded. "It's got range, and even if it's dark, face it….the script is damn good. Between that and the chemistry people will fall in love with?" He whistled. "It's a guaranteed game changer. Trust me."

Jazmine sighed.

She had to give it to him, it was a phenomenal script. But that didn't mean she would allow him to walk all over her.

Not anymore.

"I'm turning it down." She frowned, turning her nose up. "I appreciate the opportunity, but it's not for me." She set the script down, standing to her feet. "Tell casting I'm grateful to be considered, but I'm not the woman they're looking for."

Sam winced.

"Yeah…." His voice dropped five decibels. "About that…."

Jazmine turned to him, her brow raised. "What about it?"

"I may have…already agreed you'd do the role?" He winced, his voice soft and syrupy, like it'd make his message go down any easier. "But only because I knew you could do it! And I knew you wouldn't take the leap on your own!"

"That wasn't your call to make, Sam." She inched forward, close to slapping him. "This isn't the first time you've pulled a stunt like this, either." She lowered her voice, but it was in no way weak. She didn't need the others to hear what she had to say. "This is becoming a constant with you, and I'd really like it to stop." She said firmly. "I'm perfectly capable of choosing roles that fit what I represent and who I am." She nodded graciously. "In the future, I'd appreciate it if you kept that in mind."

To her surprise, Sam shot her a bored look, glancing at his phone with disdain.

"You've really become a diva, haven't you?" He sneered, talking to her in a tone she'd never heard from him before, not once in the eleven years she'd known him. "I have contacts in this business, Jazmine. Contacts that can ruin your career as you know it." He shrugged, smirking. "And hey, you know what they say…all it takes is one little scandal, one little hit to that sqeauky clean image, and hey….sweet little Jazmine Dubois is just some washed-up Gizney Kid has-been."

She blinked, not believing what she was hearing.

"Sam…."

"Samuel." He shot her a look, dangling his phone between his fingers. "I've been patient with you, helping you to fucking develop your talent over the years!" He barked, causing everyone's head to snap up. "And this is how the hell you show me your gratitude? By screwing me the fuck over and backing out of our deal?"

She shook her head, careful not to give him any more ammo.

"Let's be rational and stop yelling, please." She kept her voice steady. "You know I'm not…WHAT?!"

She let out a squeak of surprise when he suddenly towered over her like he was about to hit her, stuck frozen in flight mood.

"Listen you fucking entitled bi-"

But Jazmine was no longer listening to him.

Instead her eyes were on the man behind him, his hands broad, his cornrows longer, down past his shoulders, and his face, once full of boyish mischief, now settled into a quiet confidence.

Riley Freeman had a swagger all his own, one that screamed every room he walked in was his and he owned it.

She could tell Samuel felt it.

Lord knows, she could.

"You good, ma?" He asked, his eyes on Sam.

Jazmine could barely talk, captivated by how deep his voice had gotten, how everyone had instantly straightened up the second he'd walked in the room.

Samuel glared, murmuring something to Jazmine before Riley scoffed and glared harder.

"This Frosty-the-SnowKlan looking ass nigga bothering you?" He repeated, inching closer to Sam. "I think I heard you tell his weak ass to quit yellin', rite?" He sized him up. "Crazy how his bitch ass can't say shit to me though."

Samuel chuckled nervously, smart enough to back towards the wall closest to security.

"Get a load of this guy, eh?" He shook his head at a few people nearby, as if there was nothing interesting going on. "Jazmine!" He snapped his fingers at her, acting like he hadn't just snapped at her in front of everyone. "Remember what we talked about, baby! I'm only doing this to catapult you into the mega-star you are!" He grinned. "Cha-ching!"

Before she could say anything else, he sprinted out of the room, no-doubt unnerved by Riley's quiet gangsta, rippling across the room without her even having to see it.

"Aye." He nudged her. "You aight?"

Jazmine didn't know what to say.

With other producers and high-powered executives, she'd always held her own.

Having Huey as a friend worked wonders on her comebacks, and between him, Cindy, Caesar and Riley, she could actually bring a person to tears if she was in a bad enough mood.

But this was Sam.

Sam who'd shielded her from every tough conversation, Sam who'd been there to protect her when her own parents hadn't against perverted producers and seedy stakeholders, Sam who'd always had her back up until the last year or so, someone she'd actually considered family, up until today.

"Aye." Riley tapped her shoulder, his eyes roving down. "I asked if you were aight?" He turned her around, still focused on the door before leaning closer, his breath tickling her neck right where she need it most. "You ain't gotta be scared of me, Ma." She could practically feel him smirking, feel his gaze drift down to her body. "It's just a question."

She yanked herself away before whirling herself around to face him, annoyed that he hadn't figured out who she was yet.

"Jazmine." His voice took on a different timbre altogether, suddenly raspy, sexy, and primal all at once. "It's been a minute…." His eyes went dull and indifferent. "I'm surprised you're still alive after all this time. I don't even think Huey's seen you since Shana's first birthday."

She froze, suddenly remembering this was the first time in years that they'd spoken.

"He hasn't." She nodded amicably. "But I talk to Cindy, and she tells me you two are doing well, all things considered."

His eyes narrowed, scowling.

"Guess I could say the same for you, huh?" He shrugged coolly. "I wasn't aware we were keeping tabs, now." He glared at her. "Shouldn't be surprised though." He met her gaze. "You Little Miss Hollywood, A-Lister now."

Jazmine pinched the bridge of her nose, her temper flaring.

"Riley." She took a deep breath. "I know this is hard." She said. "But let's be real here…you're just as Hollywood as I am now, maybe even more." She glared right back, frowning at him. "Weren't you on Beyonce's last album rapping?"

He blinked, seeming to remember that he was a part of this industry now, even If he considered himself far from this industry's status quo.

"You've been here longer." He said shrugging, refusing to let the past go. "You would know."

"Well fine." Jazmine snapped, pushing past him towards a skinny white woman nearby. " Fuck off then!" She barked. "I don't need this childish shit right now! Not from Sam, and for damn sure, not from you!"

Riley blinked, clearly surprised to hear her talk like that.

But Jazmine could care less, making it a point to keep her tone icy and toss her long curly hair behind her.

"Glad to see you haven't changed." She sneered, holding up her middle finger from her seat. "Bitch."

Then with that, she turned to her assistant, leaving his drama in the past where it belonged.

Riley couldn't even say shit, mainly because he couldn't stop watching her.

But also because his ass mighta deserved that shit.

"So, what?" He heard Jazmine's sexy ass hiss, her lips pursed tight together. "I can't get out of it?" She growled. "Erin, I can't do this movie! I never wanted to sign on to it to begin with!" She wailed. "I am not a video vixen, and I don't do nudity!" She slapped the script she was holding and lowered her voice a little. "And I never do sex scenes!" She shook her head, visibly distraught. "Why the hell would I agree to doing something like this?" She continued, frowning. "Acting is art, but this? It's just not me!"

Riley leaned back, fighting back a chuckle.

Jazmine sure as fuck coulda fooled him a minute ago.

Her heat was so tempting he'd bout asked her to meet him in the bathroom before he'd realized it was Jazmine.

Then again, she'd always been bad as fuck, even the couple times he'd managed to kiss her before she'd left Woodcrest to star in the hit show: Made, a show about young, fine, black ballerinas, highlighted as one of the best black coming-of age shows since That's So Raven.

Unlike most fucked up child stars, Jazmine (and her castmates) had all found mainstream success as adults instantly, having a stretch of careers well into adulthood without ever slowing the fuck down…which was unheard of in basic, black Hollywood.

Hell, Hollywood in general.

The girl was so damn likeable every black household fell in love with her, and of course, because Jazmine was so goddamn sweet, all her castmates got along with her too, so much so they'd come together and told their greedy ass network to give them all a raise. And after a lot of pushback from the public on their behalf, they'd gotten it.

Her pops had made sure of that.

Riley kept his eyes on her, fascinated as she swung her hair back again, revealing more of her perfect shoulders and the trail leading down to her chest, looking sexy and licakable in her classy ass sundress that was hugged every last inch of her in all the right places.

Goddamn.

No wonder her manager wanted her in this movie.

Jazmine was just that unfuckwitable.

No competition, end of discussion.

"I can't believe him!" Jazmine fumed, ranting. "He won't get away with what he pulled today, Erin. And the fact that he yelled at you too?" She shook her head, glancing down at her phone. "Unacceptable."

He rose a brow, intrigued.

He'd heard before tat Jazmine could be somethin' serious if you crossed her, and having grown up with her, he couldn't quite say that he was surprised.

Because just studying her demeanor, he could tell she wasn't fuckin' around with any of them.

But that shit wasn't what was held his attention.

What Riley was really finding it hard to wrap his head around was the fact that they were grown, now.

Being around her made him feel fifteen all over again, plagued with the torment of watching something he was wise enough not to have.

And to put it plainly, Jazmine was trouble, simple as that.

Her sexy, slanted dark-green eyes, those full, soft, pouted lips, begging him to come taste them.

And that ass? Those thighs? That sexy, slim-thick body he'd give anything to handle?

Along with all that thick, sexy ass hair of hers?

Shit.

It was probably a good thing they fell out the way they had.

He'd still be breaking her off to this day if they hadn't.

And if Riley had less pride, he'd be tryna to position himself to do that right now.

On the slick, he was wondering why he wasn't.

"Get the casting director in here, please." He heard Jazmine whisper to her assistant.

The skinny white girl, Erin, took off, rushing inside to tap an old white man on his shoulder.

Riley watched, amazed when the man dropped everything and actually rushed over to Jazmine, who was sitting angrily, pissed the fuck off.

After a long back and forth, the director clapped his hands until someone brought him a script.

"Thank you." The director nodded at his assistance, glancing at Jazmine. "Now, let's address your concerns."

Riley held in a chuckle when the director ripped out a page, then another and another, before tearing them to shreds.

"No nudity, more depth." The director, scrawled in her demands, raising a brow. "And a billion dollars guaranteed if you agree to shoot for the year."

Jazmine raised a brow.

"And my male lead?"

The director shrugged. "There isn't one." He sighed. "Nobody's met the mark just yet." He frowned. "I just…haven't found the right guy yet. I need a fresh, new face."

Jazmine raised a brow when a few other men rushed past, clearly not the badass suave nigga they were looking for.

He turned away, shaking his head.

If he and Huey were still talking, he'd have called him up and asked his ass to do it.

But since he wasn't, and because Karrington had cussed him the fuck out several times on the way here, saying he needed this role….

He found himself lifting to his seat, quickly realizing a billion dollars came before some petty ass beef that hadn't been too big a deal looking back.

"Not to get in ya'll's business." He smirked lightly at Jazmine before nodding at the director. "But I heard you're looking for a male lead."

"With experience." Jazmine narrowed her eyes dangerously, her anger not scaring him one bit.

On the contrary, he liked that shit, forreal.

Riley read one of his lines, chuckling lowly at her, his voice dropping to a decibel that brought every woman to their knees.

"Welcome home, sexy." He let his eyes rake over her, pleased to have an excuse to take in every inch of her up close and personal.

Jazmine just stared at him, acting calm, but Riley was far from stupid.

He knew damn well it had rattled her ass a little.

And knowing that made it that much more pleasurable for him.

"Looking for me?" He fingered one of her curls lightly, cupping her face in his hands. "What's that behind your back, a gift?" He leaned forward, chuckling right next to the hollow of her neck, wondering if it was still just as sensitive as she remembered.

Her hand gripped his forearm from the contact, her natural reaction to losing control.

He smirked.

"Riley, if you don't get the fuck!" Jazmine snatched away from him, scowling. "What the hell is wrong with-"

"You." The director broke into a wide grin, gasping in delight as he marveled at Riley. "You're perfect!"

"What?!" Riley and Jazmine turned to him, watching as the director put on his glasses, backing away as if zooming out with his camera.

"How?" Jazmine glanced at the director. "He barely even read his lines! He's never even acted before!"

"Neither did Will Smith." The director shrugged, turning his attention to Riley. "You're….a rapper, right? Made a few cameos on Fast and the Furious?"

Riley shrugged. "Yeah. Why? You gotta problem with it?"

The man broke out into laughter.

"No." He shook his head. "Just need to make sure you're on board with this." He nodded. "This project could take one, maybe even two years." He met his gaze. "I just want to be upfront with you. No surprises."

Despite him being corny and white as hell, Riley could tell ole dude was trustworthy.

Which more than he could say for that white nigga Sam.

Even though there was some unresolved shit between him and Jazmine, he couldn't lie and say he didn't need to finesse his way into a billion dollars, ex-friend turned makeout partner be damned.

So he grinned, ignoring Jazmine staring him down.

She'd get over it soon enough.

"That's whassup!" He nodded, shaking his hand. "I'll have my agent call your agent and talk details." He smiled. "I'm Riley Freeman, have your folks ask for Karrington. "

The director slid him his card.

"Excellent." He nodded back. "Tell them to ask for me, Marty Isaacson."

"Of course." Riley smiled, releasing his head. "Thanks, man." He turned his attention back to Jazmine, smirking again. "Good running into you."

Marty smiled, unaware.

"Likewise."