“I will.” I chuckled nervously.
“Will? Rubie, you were supposed to send this months ago! Who’s Who magazine is hard to get into, and they fill up quickly. If they don’t get those questions in time, they will ask any and everything. You know Tony doesn’t like any drama or scandals attached to the artists.”
“I know, I know. I got so distracted with being pregnant, I just didn’t do it.”
I was so disappointed in myself, but more importantly, I was afraid I couldn’t get these questions done and perfected in time. I forgot the deadline on the paper that the interviewer, Debbie, sent. If it had passed, that meant it was open season on the Gangstar Girlz. This already happened with Nala, and they ended up exposing the fact that she’d fucked Tony before. Only reason he didn’t murder me then was because of Camarih. He legit said he didn’t care that I was pregnant and by his friend; he was coming to kill me.
“Babe, if anybody understands, I do, but you’re going to have to pull it together or get someone to take your place until you can get back to work.”
“No, no, I don’t need anyone’s help. I will have everything done and sent over soon, watch me.” I smiled.
Camarih looked concerned, but she just nodded.
A few hours later, she was gone, and my baby was awake. While feeding him, I logged into my company email to find the contract Debbie had sent over. The deadline had passed two weeks ago; in fact, the day after Elijah was born.
Fuck.
Picking up my cell phone, I dialed Debbie’s number, praying that she would work with me as a fellow woman.
“Debbie of Who’s Who Magazine.”
“Hi, Debbie, this is Rubie Bailey. How are you?”
“I’m great. Congrats on the baby.”
Okay, this is good so far.
“Thank you. So hey, because of all this baby stuff, I kind of forgot about the questions list.”
“Oh yeah, I understand. Unfortunately, the deadline has passed. We’ve already drafted our own questions for the ladies to do the interview this weekend.”
“I can have it sent before then.”
“I’m sorry, Rubie. If their magazine issue was later, then it’d be fine, but we have strict timelines here.”
“Damn, when is the next issue?”
“Just one month after this one, so in July.”
“When would the deadline be?”
“Next week.”
“Perfect! Let’s reschedule—”
“Can’t, Rubie. That slot is already filled by another artist, as well as the slots after that.”
“Okay. I will try to see if the person after will be willing to switch. Would that be okay?”
“Uh, sure, I guess. But we’d need that switch done as soon as possible.”
“Absolutely. Who is the artist?”
“It’s the rapper Big Dane, but you can contact his manager at Mark Vegas Management.”
My heart almost stopped hearing her say that. Mark Vegas hated my fucking guts, and I knew there was little to no chance that he would do me a favor.
Tony was going to fucking murder me. And I was realizing juggling a job, motherhood, and a relationship was much harder than I’d predicted.
12
Rahim
Dallas and I were chilling courtside, watching the Lakers play against the Memphis Grizzlies. I remember wishing to be able to sit this close back in the day, and now it was normal for me. I felt safer courtside because rabid fans and fangirling niggas weren’t all in my face.
“You good?” I looked over at Dallas. I had something planned and felt off.
“Yep. I’m always good when I’m with you.” She leaned over, and we shared a kiss.
Nodding, I offered up a half smile then took a big gulp of my beer while watching the game. It was a good one, making me slightly lose track of time. Finally, about an hour later, it was half time, aka go time.
“Hey.” I grabbed Dallas’s hand. “I want you to know that I love you, and I really appreciate you sticking by me. I know it hasn’t been easy dating me with all the ex-wife drama.”
“No, it hasn’t, but I knew you were worth it.” Dallas simpered. “What brought this little speech on?”
“Well…” I reached into my pocket and then swiftly got down on one knee. Like I knew, everyone around seemed to tune in to the point where the cameraman was now broadcasting us on the large elevated TV.
“Rahim!” Dallas’s eyes widened before she briefly did a scan of the stadium to take in who all was watching.
“Dallas, I love you, and I didn’t know if I was ready to do this again, but I am… with you. I’ve learned a lot in my last marriage and realized that it was something that was preparing me for you, the woman I truly love; the only woman I think I’ve ever loved. So I want to know, will you continue to shine a light in my life by becoming my wife?” I swallowed hard after lifting the top of the ring box.
“Yes, of course!” Dallas responded quickly, and I slipped the large diamond ring on her finger. It was way bigger than the one I’d gotten for Amara, obviously because my funds were different then.
We kissed as everyone in here cheered loudly as hell. By the time I got up to sit back next to her, the game was ready to resume.
For the remainder of it, we held hands, her nuzzling up to me and checking her ring out here and there. My phone was already blowing up, so I knew this whole event had made it to the blogs, plus Dallas had taken several photos of her big ass diamond ring.
The rest of the game, I felt more relaxed, excited even, but not really for the reasons one may think.
When the game was over, we left—a little bit before, actually, to beat the crowd. Like I said, I didn’t really want to be bothered by fans or aspiring musicians when I was trying to have some leisure time.
“Oh man, baby, I was not expecting this.” Dallas, again, admired her ring as I drove.
“I know. I wanted to do something special for you.” I smirked and then checked my phone at the red light. I had a lot of notifications from Instagram and a few text messages from artists I was working with, but nothing else.
“Well this was perfect. I have never had a man treat me this well.” Dallas and I made eye contact, her blushing.
“That’s what I’m here for.” I leaned over to kiss her.
Since we were in a celebratory mood, I took her to eat at Cecconi’s since she loved Italian food. Per usual, we were seated immediately due to my celebrity status, and given a complimentary bottle of wine once they’d figured out the good news.
Dinner was pleasant, but still I had no missed texts or calls from the person I was expecting to be blowing me up by now. I was so focused on it that, for half of the dinner, I wasn’t even listening to what Dallas was saying.
We went straight home after the restaurant, and before we were even through the door of my home good, the both of us were stripping down. Dallas was unbelievably sexy to me, so I was surely paying attention to the sight of her naked body.
Laying her down on the bed, I sucked her lips then made my way down until I had her thighs on top of my shoulders. I began flicking my tongue over her clit, causing her to arch her back and moan softly.
“Rah…” She cooed, rubbing my curly hair as I sucked her bud passionately.
She was beyond wet, and when she spread her legs wider, I went deeper with my tongue, lapping her juices up and suckling her clit with the utmost pressure.
“Shit.” I grumbled when she came again.
My dick was standing at attention, so even though I wanted some head, I couldn’t wait any longer to feel the inside of her walls. Flipping her over, I positioned her ass in the air and wasted no time wrapping up.
“You need that?” She looked over her shoulder just as I’d finished rolling it down.
“Uh… nah, I guess not.” I hesitated but then removed it since I couldn’t really get around this shit; she was watching me.
Raw, I slid inside and gripped the fuck out of her h
ips to keep from cumming. Once I’d gathered my damn self, I started to stroke her slowly, caressing her toned back and smooth brown ass cheeks. The strokes were nice and slow, keeping it all at a steady pace so I wouldn’t bust quick. Once Dallas creamed down the shaft of my dick, I held her hips tightly and began beating it up.
“Oh fuck!” she screamed out, burying her face into the comforter and gripping it tightly.
“Ah!” I tossed my head back, hammering as hard as I could, enjoying the feeling of her unbelievably wet pussy welcoming me.
“I love you, Rah!” she screamed again.
“Mmm.” I growled, pumping faster and harder to the point where I knew one of us would have marks on our skin. “Fuck!” I barked louder than I wanted as I pulled out and nutted all over her lower back. It was so much that I knew if I’d let that off inside of her, she’d be pregnant with about seven damn kids.
“Rahim, what the fuck!” she hollered angrily.
My knees were weak, and I was low-key dizzy, so I couldn’t even register the fact that she was mad right away.
“Let me get you a towel.” I stumbled off, exhaling heavily.
Once to the linen cabinet, I grabbed a throwaway towel and entered into the en suite to wet it with warm water. I came back out into the semi-dark bedroom where Dallas was still in the position I left her in, and cleaned the small of her back.
“Why did you do that?” She whined, getting out of the bed and storming toward the bathroom now that she was cleaned off.
“Do what?” I followed.
“Nut on me!”
“Where else was I gon’ put it, Dallas? I didn’t have a towel, and you told me not to use a condom. I wasn’t about to bust all over my expensive ass sheets and bedding!”
“You could’ve not pulled out!”
She started the shower, pulling out the bottle of soap she planned on using for tonight.
“Nah, ’cause then you’d be pregnant.” I lifted the toilet top to pee.
“And? You want me to be your wife, so what’s wrong with me being pregnant?”
“Don’t you want to get married first?” I frowned, shaking my dick then flushing.
“I mean, I guess, yeah.” Her voice was calmer now, the shower running in the background. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I am not trying to have a belly in my wedding photos.”
“I know you’re not.” I chuckled, pulling her closer for a kiss.
“I don’t want this to be a long engagement.”
“It won’t be. I promise.”
We shared another kiss then got in the shower together for round two. After brushing our teeth, we crawled into bed for some sleep. However, I didn’t pass out until I checked my iPhone again to see no messages.
Bullshit.
That weekend… Around 7 p.m.…
It was my time to get my baby girl again, so I was racing over there to her. I barely parked well before I was out of the car and ringing Amara’s doorbell.
“Hey. Sorry, I was taking a nap.” Amara answered the door to let me in.
“Why? Been working a lot?” I walked in.
“Yes, and because I have something to do tonight, so I wanted to be well rested.”
I noticed she had on a robe, specifically the one she always put on when she did her makeup.
“Where you going tonight?”
“Just for a meal.” She walked off, and I trailed her.
“A meal with who, Amara?”
“Why, Rahim?”
“What the fuck you mean, why? And the way you acting so damn secretive, it must be a nigga!”
“Whether it’s another man or a female friend, or whatever I choose, it is none of your business!”
“It is my business!”
“No!” She whipped her body around so that we were face to face. “It is not your business! We are no longer married and haven’t been for quite some time now! Stop acting like I am still with you!”
That last sentence kind of hurt.
“Ain’t nobody acting like nothing. Don’t even flatter yourself.” I glanced off, shaking my head. “Did you hear about my news?”
“Your new—oh, your engagement? Yes, I did! I meant to text you to say congrats, but I’ve been so busy. Congratulations though!”
“Congratulations?”
“I know this is kind of whack of me. I was planning to send champagne and a cheese basket. I already told Dallas congrats on Instagram and that I would send it soon.”
Hearing she’d spoken to Dallas and was seemingly genuinely happy about this shit had me pissed off. That coupled with her possibly going on a date had my blood pressure through the roof I was sure.
“Wow, aight. Go get my fucking daughter.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? You need to seriously get checked out to make sure you’re not bipolar. And watch your mouth. Yu don’t speak to me the way you speak to them industry hoes.” Amara left me standing there at the bottom of the stairs while she went to get Ahmira.
They returned hand in hand, my baby girl holding her doll and wearing her Princess Tiana backpack. She was so beautiful, with her deep mahogany skin she got from me, and seeing her with her mother had me in disbelief that I fucked this shit up for a bitch like Phoebe. Shanece might have been a mere consolation prize had she allowed our relationship to blossom, but it never did, so I would never know. I didn’t care to know either; I just wanted Amara back.
“Daddy!” Ahmira jumped up and down, so I scooped her to peck her cheek.
“Wait, you telling me you’re my daughter? A little girl as pretty as you?” I bucked my eyes as she nodded bashfully. “Oh wow. I’m so lucky.”
Amara laughed as she watched us.
“You’re gonna have her being conceited when she gets older.”
“That’s perfect.” I chuckled, and Amara joined me.
We stared at one another for some awkward seconds before she inhaled sharply and said, “Well, she’s due back Monday evening.” Placing her hand on Ahmira’s back, she said, “Have fun, sweetie, and don’t give Daddy and Dallas a hard time, okay?” She pecked her round cheek.
“Okay, Mommy. Okay.”
Amara walked us out, and I buckled Ahmira in the back seat of my Mercedes truck. When I got in the front seat, I received a text.
Amara: If you continue to fight with me every time you come over, I will make it so my mother does the exchanges with you. She’s moving out here, her and my father.
Me: Get over yourself.
The last people I wanted moving out here were Amara’s meddling ass, hating ass, nose in the air having ass parents.
Throwing my phone into the passenger seat, I started the car and sped off.
“Baby girl.” I looked into the rearview at my daughter as I entered the freeway.
“Yes, Daddy?”
“Does ya mama have friends?”
“Of course!” She brushed her doll’s hair.
“Friends that look like her or like me?”
“She has Tisha, but she doesn’t look like you or Mommy. And then sometimes Gabe, who kind of looks like Mommy because he is bright. He is bigger and taller than Mommy though.” She spoke so candidly, not even realizing what she was revealing to me.
“Shit.” I grumbled because I’d almost rear-ended this car in front of me when the name Gabe came from my daughter’s mouth.
Ahmira called light-skinned people bright. That was a step up because she used to call them white people. Amara was mortified when she found out Ahmira had told her whole class that her mother was a white woman.
“Gabe? He come over a lot?”
“Just when school is out.”
Aka, the weekend.
“Humph.”
When Ahmira and I got home, I gave her a bath, and then we ate the casserole that Dallas had made. That shit was so good I had three helpings.
Afterward, I assisted my daughter in brushing her teeth, then Dallas and I read her a story until she passed out.
“D
inner was good, babe.” I started to undress once Dallas and I were in the bedroom.
“Thank you. I made everything from scratch!”
“Aye, so why you ain’t tell me you and Amara talk?”
“Talk?”
“Yeah, on Instagram.”
“Oh, I thought you knew. It’s not like we try to hide it. We comment on one another’s photos, like them, and sometimes message one another on our story posts.”
I knew none of this, and for some reason, it infuriated me.
“I just don’t see why you ain’t say shit, and why you feel the need to be so cool with her ass.”
“I didn’t say anything because, like I just said less than a minute ago, I thought you knew. And why wouldn’t you want us to get along? You’d rather have your ex-wife and new soon to be wife at odds? That would only make life harder for you.”
In a normal circumstance, I would love for my ex and new one to be cool and cordial. But not when I was actively trying to get my wife back. I didn’t need her spilling the beans to Dallas, which would result in me getting dumped and being left single. I was never the type to jump ship unless I had another ship to leap onto.
“You right. I just don’t want her trying to poison your mind. She and I didn’t exactly break up amicably.”
“I know, and trust me, baby, I will not allow any mind poisoning.” Dallas walked over and kissed me before prancing to the bathroom, closing the door.
Pulling out my phone, I went onto Instagram and checked Amara’s page. She’d posted a photo of her outfit for the night, which was a skintight dress, showing her flawless body, and some tall ass pumps. Her hair hung down her back, and she had on that red lipstick I liked. I scanned the comments briefly for any sign of a Gabe, then swiped out.
I saw she posted a story, so I clicked it. When a picture of a bouquet of roses popped up, I almost lost it. Nothing else was added to her story after that.
Going out to my texts, I typed up a message.
Me: Who the fuck is Gabe? My daughter mentioned this nigga. You bet not have no nigga around Ahmira without my permission!
Me: You got me fucked up!
Placing my phone on the nightstand, I proceeded with my night. Until about 2 a.m., I checked my phone constantly, but I’d gotten no fucking reply.
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