by Vera Roberts
Loving.
Protective.
Sweet.
Chapter Ten
“That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Soul is still inside me and slowly pulled out. My body immediately craves the loss of him. He quickly disposes of the condom and straightens himself back up. He helps me sit on the desk and he sits beside me.
“You regret it?” He looks at me with concern in his eyes, though the rest of his face is emotionless.
“It happened too soon,” I clarify and touch his arm. He wraps an arm around me and I lean into him. “Two years later and I already slept with you like that.” I snap my fingers. “You probably have the worse thoughts of me.”
“I have nothing but the best thoughts of you, beautiful.” He declares yet again. He kisses my forehead and sway my bangs aside. “It happened because you wanted it just as much as I did.”
“Soul...” I begin to say but my thoughts choke my voice. Downstairs, the concert is still going and I doubt anyone of Desiree’s crew missed my presence. “...things are complicated between us.”
“That’s what makes the love better and stronger,” he replies, “if things were easy, you would be in Harlem with me right now.”
“About Harlem...” I cautiously begin. I don’t want to ruin what was a great moment between us but we need to address the elephant in the room. “...I can’t just pick up and leave, Ellison. I have a career here. I know reporting on YouTube celebrities is nothing to you, but it is a career to me. It pays my bills. I go to these Hollywood events. I’m not a bottle service girl or hustling some fitness teas and waist trainers on IG.”
“But are you happy?” His dark lashes slowly blink at me. “You can go to the all of these events, report on some Internet famous celebrity, and still be miserable.”
He has a point. “If I go to Harlem, what am I going to do that has nothing to do with you or your connections?”
“I have ideas what you could do, but if I tell you them, you’ll just turn it around and say it was my idea and not yours.” His eyes smile at me. “You’re not happy in LA. and you love Harlem. I have 28 more days.” He stands up and straightens his attire of jeans and a dark turtleneck.
He holds his hand out and I grab it. It’s home. It’s welcoming. It’s air. I slide off the desk and Soul wraps his arms around me. We’re silent for a long moment and neither has anything to say. What is there to say?
I breathe him in and life is beautiful.
“WHERE DID YOU GO?” Desiree asks me after her set is over.
Everyone is in her green room and the atmosphere is different. Before the concert, everyone was silent and seemed to be in their own world. Now, people are laughing, popping bottles of expensive champagne, and the smell of weed is rather potent in the air.
Desiree is in a director’s chair in front of the mirror, drinking out of a cold water bottle. She’ll celebrate and get drunk later, but she’s still on that high from performing and needs to calm down.
“I went to the bathroom,” I add. It’s not a lie because after I left Soul, I did go to the bathroom to clean up. “That’s all.” That part, however, is a big ol’ lie.
“Oh, okay.” Desiree patted her damp forehead with a towel. “Big Steve said he saw Soul was here and I was wondering if you saw him.”
Oh, I saw him, all right. “I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, I don’t know if he’s still around but he’s somewhere here.” Desiree takes another swig from the water bottle before she turns to me. “So, what did you think?”
“You were amazing, D.” I beam with pride. “You’re on your way to mainstream, baby girl.”
“Eh,” she shrugs, “I go mainstream and I already see people telling I shouldn’t be rapping about bling and bitches, despite all of these other males do it on a regular basis. I like being independent. I’m my own boss and I’m just too damn picky about my music.”
“I feel that,” I agree.
“You coming to the after-party with us? It’s in an hour or so,” she glances down at her iced-out watch. “Or you heading back home?”
“I’m going to head back home. I still have to work tomorrow.” I stand up from my chair and pat my cousin’s shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, Cousin.” She gets up with me. “Do you need an escort home?”
“Nah, I’m good. I can always get a Lyft or something.” I give her a warm embrace. “I’m so proud of you, D. You’re going to go far, baby girl.”
“Thanks, boo.” She kisses my cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I quickly leave the green room and head out to the front of the club. As anxious club goers patiently wait to get inside, I exit out. Soul’s words about what I’m passionate about haunt me.
Desiree has a career she’s proud of and she busts her ass to get to where she is. She doesn’t slack and her work ethic is something ridiculous. She’s not on IG playing around or spend an inordinate amount of time gossiping about anyone else. She’s about her business, she’s about her paper. She’s going to be successful regardless of what anyone says or feels about her.
I think about Soul’s words. He knows I’m unhappy with my life, but he also knows it’s a decision for me to make the move to Harlem. But I need to figure out what I’m going to do there. I’ll be damned if I’m going to give up a career where I have a steady paycheck, and a bit of an online following, just to be his girlfriend.
I have to really think about what’s going on here. Why is Soul really back in my life now? He hadn’t said a word to me in nearly two years and he showed up on my doorstep like nothing ever happened.
Furthermore, why did I give it up so damn soon? I knew what was going to happen the moment I saw him in that office and maybe my body wanted him more than my brain could explain it.
I can’t say I cheated on Jared because he would actually have to be my boyfriend for any cheating to have taken place. Though, if Jared was a faithful, stand-up type of guy, I’m not sure if I wouldn’t have entertained Soul.
Shaking my own damn head at my whorish ways, I pull out my cell phone and open the Lyft app. I need to get home, soak into a nice bath, and figure out what in the hell is going on in my life. I knew where everything was and was okay with my life. Not overly happy but not depressed about it. I’d settled.
Settled.
The word is suddenly bile in my throat. I’m barely 24 and I settled for my life. Most people are still discovering who they are at 24, and yet, I settled for it. All I needed were some cats and yarn to call it a life.
A sleek, luxury car with darkened windows pulls up in front of me and I’m wondering how much a Lyft driver is making to afford that type of vehicle. The driver rolls down the passenger window and I smile at him.
“Get in,” Soul orders and I don’t even hesitate.
I get inside the car and I’m already addicted to it. I got rid of my car some months back when it just proved to be useless. I made the horrible mistake of letting Jared borrow it for a week and yeah. What was a nice Honda civic became unrecognizable when it was returned.
Soul’s lifestyle is a luxury. His parents may have laid the blueprint, but it’s very clear to everyone Soul’s hard work is the reason he’s able to live like he does. He’s like an expensive suit.
You know it cost a bit of money but you don’t know how much. Yet, if you compare that suit with another run of the mill type, it’s a night and day difference in quality, design, and cut.
That’s Soul. He’s cut from a different cloth and everyone knows it. He doesn’t put out a clothing line to be like everyone else. He doesn’t buy a fancy home or car so he could keep up with his neighbors.
He’s understated, yet he silently makes his point with everything he does. As much as he tries to distance himself from his parents and brothers, Soul is very much an Ellison in many ways.
After a few minutes of silence as we listen to Maxwell, I finally speak. “Where are we going?” I ask.
> “I don’t know.” He turns down the music. “Where are we going?”
“The Sentiment is probably not open now, neither is Roscoe’s,” I glance at the panel clock. “Is your brother’s soul food joint still open?”
“It is.” He smiles and starts driving.
As Soul drives, he rests his hand between my thighs and softly pinches the inside of them. It’s not obscene or erotic, but he’s claiming me again. And this time, I’m letting him.
Book II
Chapter One
We’re not the only ones in Savior’s nightclub and lounge. That was Soul’s intention.
Savior’s lounge, Sweet Potato, is an upscale soul food joint in Studio City. The walls are covered in a slick, dark purple with pictures of old Black Hollywood decorating them. I see Lena Horne, Dorothy Dandridge, Harry Belafonte, Sammy Davis, Jr. and jazz greats like Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, and Duke Ellington.
As we walk through the long hallway, I notice the theme has progressed from the Harlem Renaissance era to the Motown era to the Black Power movement of the 60’s and 70’s, and finally the BLM movement of today. A lot of history on those walls.
I watch Soul ask the chef prepare a quick meal for us in the kitchen, and she happily obliges. I wonder if this is special treatment only reserved for being sweet on me or if this is how Soul is no matter what time of day.
I already know the answer: this is who Soul is. Unpredictable. Crazy. Poignant. His mother was right to christen his name. It perfectly fits him.
“Savior won’t get mad you’re doing all of this?” I ask.
“He probably will,” Soul watches the chef stir the jumbo shrimp on the skillet. “I’ve done this before but I’ve always left nice tips. Savior is just OCD with his businesses. I can’t blame him. I have five and I know what’s going on with them at any given time.”
“You’re so focused but you’re very close with your brothers and parents.” I note, “most other rich people would be whatever about family time.”
“Nah, we have our issues but it’s mainly contained.” A waiter comes by and pours glasses of wine for us. “We’re not going be giving press conferences or taking out full page ads on why we hate each other. But sometimes you need a little distance to keep the peace.”
“You’re located all over place.” I reply. Savior is situated in L.A. with his wife, Keisha, and their baby, Lyric. Senator Ocean is based out of California, but he seems to spend more time in Atlanta with his girlfriend, famed celebrity tattoo artist, Aaliyah Smith.
And then there’s Soul, straight outta Harlem. He moved there when he was 17 and never looked back. Most people who know him are surprised he’s an Ellison Ellison because he completely separates himself from his family.
He’s rarely in expensive suits and I get the feeling he doesn’t really like them, anyway. He only wore one for Savior’s lowkey wedding. I also learned Soul designed everyone’s outfits, including Keisha’s gown, for that day.
Soul mainly uses his social media accounts to promote his clothing line and that’s it. He’s not a social media activist, and doesn’t use his fingers to express his disgust with the system.
Instead, Soul uses his money and influence. He constantly donates money to a number of causes and has sent numerous men to college on his dime. His only request is that their grades are a 3.0 average. He’s also a well-known philanthropist and his estimated donations are in the hundreds of millions across several charities.
He still has a close relationship with his parents, who fully supported the false allegations against him when they were levied. I cringe when I think about my role in that, but it seems it’s in the past. At least I hope it is.
But if I’m going to be a part of Soul’s world, it would also mean I’m going to interact with his family at some point or another. I’m sure his mother and father feel some kind of way about me and that’s a family dinner I’m not looking forward to.
His parents still haven’t spoken to me directly about the article and I made sure to avoid contact with them at Briana Gooding’s fundraiser. Even if I happened to catch a glimpse of Thomas and Starr looking in my direction, it happened so fast I wondered if I imagined it.
I can’t worry about awkward family dinners when Soul is with me. Dinner is quickly served and we sit in the kitchen, quietly eating our meal. After dinner is done, the servers clean up everything and all is back to normal as if we were never inside the kitchen at all.
He leads me out to the lounge area and it’s not quite dark. Some patrons are eating, some are playing games, and others are engaged on the dance floor. Some of the lights are still on and he heads over to the DJ booth.
Soul shakes his head as he looks at the set-up. “Real DJs know how to mix and scratch. Nowadays, all a person needs an iPod and that’s it. The fuck is this?” He holds up a USB cord. “I bet this fool has no idea who Special Ed is.”
Neither do I but that’s not something I’m going to share with him.
The DJ comes back and Soul whispers in his ear. The sounds of Kut Klose come on overhead. He walks back out onto the dance floor and holds his hand out. His eyebrows rose up as if they were asking, ‘Want to dance?’ I don’t even hesitate.
I grab his hand and he pulls me close to him. His muscular body envelopes my lithe one and yet, it’s all natural. I feel his heartbeat pound against his chest and we’re in sync. Once again, I breathe in his cologne and the feelings wash over my body.
It goes beyond just being in lust or feeling protected by Soul. I can fully admit I’m in love with this man and I have been for a long while. I thought if I moved away from him, get wrapped into a career I don’t care for, the feelings would go away.
Yet, they never did. They came back stronger than before.
Now I’m stuck. I know Desiree will support me leaving L.A. but what about my work? If I leave the Sista Gal show, there are no other jobs lined up for me. I would have to start all over again from scratch and how will that pan out?
I’m not cut out to be a socialite or some clout-chasing bottle service girl on IG. I want a legit career in journalism, but Sista Gal is my way into that. And I would need to give Laura enough time to find an ample replacement for me.
I sigh as I lay my head on Soul’s chest. What am I going to do?
“Don’t think about it,” he whispers in my ear, “things will happen the way they need to and in the order they should.”
My body releases another sigh I didn’t know it was holding. “You’re confident about us.”
Soul slightly pulls away from me and cups my face in his strong, tattooed hands. “I didn’t get where I am second-guessing every move. If it flopped, I did better next time. If it was successful, I improved on that formula. My point is, I stopped giving a fuck about what others had to say about me a long time ago. I suggest you do the same.”
Soul gave me life advice, but we both know he’s referring to his family.
Chapter Two
After we left Sweet Potato, Soul drives us back to my apartment. I know Desiree is still at her after party so it’ll give us a little more time alone before she comes home. Despite Desiree’s lifestyle, she never brings the party home. Whatever happens at the after party stays there. I respect her so much for that.
Our drive is silent and not full of mindless chit-chatter. It’s not that Soul is all deep all of the time, but he only talks when he feels it’s appropriate during serious situations. We’re definitely a serious situation.
The next 28 days will make or break us. I need to figure out what I’m going to do before I go to New York, possibly forever. And if things don’t work? I need to figure out if I have a place to come back to.
I can’t worry about any of that now. As we pull up in front of the brownstone, I see the familiar outline of Jared. And he brought some of his friends. This is not good.
“Were you expecting him?” Soul calmly asks as he parks directly in front of Jared.
“No,” I swallow and l
ook out of the tinted window. I’m thankful Jared can’t see inside of it. “I had no idea he was going to be here.”
“Okay,” Soul turns off the engine, “let me properly introduce myself.” He unbuckles and gets out of the car.
I quickly unbuckle and open the car door just in time for Soul to reach in and hold my hand. Immediately, the clowning around and laughter from Jared and his friends immediately stop once I come out of the car.
Jared stands up and walks over to me. His eyes are red and I can tell he’s higher than a kite. I glance around his friends’ faces and they’re similar. At least I know they’re too high to do anything, but it doesn’t stop the potentially embarrassing act.
Soul and I bypass Jared and his friends, who snicker and talk amongst themselves. No one says a word to us. Instead, I feel them following us. They’re too intimidated to say anything to Soul but it’s clear they’re not happy with his presence.
A shaky hand retrieves my keys from my clutch and I manage to unlock my door. I walk inside and Soul is directly behind me. Jared and his friends are on Soul’s heels and he pays them no mind. His only focus is on me, on us.
I already feel the tension between everyone, yet no one is saying a word. Jared and his friends probably have no idea who Soul is but know enough they don’t like him. Soul probably has every idea who Jared and his friends are, knows enough where he could kill all of them, and cover it up.
Old money versus new money. Old money will always win.
I rush into my bedroom and leave all of the men in the living room. I quickly change and pack an overnight bag. Leaving is not really a choice but I also know staying here tonight is not going to happen no matter what is going on.
There is no way Soul will leave me alone with Jared. Jared won’t even attempt to fight Soul in taking me. Honestly, after what transpired between me and Soul tonight, I don’t think just going home and being alone is what I want to do, anyway.