This man’s job, as best I can tell, is to light his boss’s cigar and carry around a small duffel bag.
“Uhm-hmm,” says a bearded assistant in a baseball cap from the backseat.
“Damn,” says Kelly, as the smoke from his cigar curls along his giant gold watch and up past his diamond earring. On this sparkling afternoon in early fall, he’s just noticed a young woman driving a red sedan one lane over. “You see that?” asks the R&B star, sitting in the middle row of a black SUV cruising down Manhattan’s West Side. Kelly whirls around, straining to look out his car’s rear window.
