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can give you a black convertible Jag for half price.”
Jamal decided he would take the Jaguar, though he would rather have the Porsche. He knew the Jaguar would be better than getting stuck driving some low-budget Grand-Am while all the athletes and rappers ruled the strip in exotic toys. “I guess we’ll take it,” Jamal said, “but I want you to know that I know you got that damn Porsche, and you probably gonna give it to some white mu’fucka.”
Hector gave Jamal a tight-lipped nod. His facial expression indicated that he really didn’t want any trouble from the two black men. Hector made a phone call and had the two vehicles brought to the front door.
Jamal and Dawg left the airport racing until they were about ten miles away from the beach where a long line of cars was at a standstill. Forty-five minutes later, they were pulling up to the Doubletree Hotel on Collins Avenue.
CHAPTER 4
    K EISHA WAS DRIVING A blood-red convertible when she arrived at ground transportation. Her hair was down, and she wore expensive Versace sunglasses. She jumped out of the car and hugged Dream as if they hadn’t seen each other in years.
“You are playing your part,” Dream teased.
     
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Keisha said as they loaded Dream’s bags into the car and sped off.
    When they reached the beach, it overwhelmed Dream. She couldn’t believe how many people were actually on the strip. The crowd was predominately African-American and there was an excess of police officers—crowds and police seemed to go hand in hand.
    People from all over the country were there. Rappers were promoting their albums and movies. Every other person was passing out a flyer, announcing a party, fashion show, or another social gathering. The strip was breathtaking. Palm trees and the ocean on one side of the road, shops and restaurants on the other. Expensive cars like Bentleys and Ferraris filled the streets. Scanty clad model-types walked the strip as guys with camcorders recorded their every movement. Dream had been on the strip for ten minutes and she absolutely loved it.
    Their hotel was on James Avenue, fifteen minutes away from the main strip, but with the massive crowd cluttering the street, it took them almost an hour to get there. The Crest Hotel was an ordinary stucco building with three levels. Their room was very spacious, equipped with two full-size beds and hardwood floors. The bathroom was tidy with a huge oval tub in the center, contemporary meets classic decor.
    The plane ride and the heat had worn the girls down. They sat on the bed and talked for a few minutes and before they knew it, they both were snoozing.
    The phone rang at 9:30 P.M. Dream answered it, still half asleep, “Hello.”
“Hello, can I speak to Keisha?”
“She’s asleep. May I ask who’s calling?”
“My name is Jamal. She met me on the plane. Would you let her know that Steve Francis, the NBA nigga, is having a white linen party at Club Onyx? It’s supposed to be happening.”
“I will. What did you say your name was?”
“Jamal, and what’s yours?”
“Dream.”
“Hope to meet you at the party,” he said before hanging up.
***
    Dream dozed for a few more minutes before finally getting out of bed. She decided that it was time for them to get ready if they were going to go out. She reached over to Keisha’s bed and nudged her. “Girl, wake up. I know you didn’t come all the way down here just to sleep.”
    Keisha sat up on the edge of the bed and refocused. “Hell, it’s so many different parties going on, I don’t know where to go,” she finally said.
    “While you were asleep, some guy named Jamal called. He said you met him on the plane. He asked me to tell you about a whitelinen party some NBA player is having.”
    “Oh yeah, I met Jamal and his friend. They were real cool. We should hang out with them since they’re from Charlotte.”
“Sounds like that party might be worth looking into. I brought some linen, what