by Nako
Her phone rung for the hundredth time.
She had been buzzing since she started back scamming, but if she made her target goal today they could hang it up because she would be done.
“Who is it?” she asked Genesis since he was closest to her phone.
“P.”
She couldn’t deal with him no more. She was dangerous. He wouldn’t understand her. He would only try to give her the money for a new place and she didn’t want or need his help.
“He calling back,” he told her a few minutes later.
“Man!”
She lost count of the money and slammed it on the carpet.
“Count this. I’ll be back.”
She got off the floor, grabbed her cell, and went into her bedroom to return his call.
“Hey.” Her tone was curt.
“Why do I feel like you’ve been curving me? Aer you back dancing?” he questioned, angrily.
She was insulted.
“Hello to you too, Porter. I’m good, thanks for asking,” she ignored him and gave him a sarcastic ass response.
“Mahogany, I don’t play games and me blowing you up is what I don’t do,”
he told her, cockily.
“Porter, I got a lot of shit going on right now. What’s up?”
Ever since the nurse told her there was mold in the apartment she felt icky all over and couldn’t wait until they got the hell out of there. She also found out that a lot of other tenants had been moving for the same reason. She wanted a damn refund on her rent for the inconvenience.
“Say less.”
He hung up in her face and she didn’t bother calling him back. Hopefully, he’ll get the hint and go on about his life. He came with some shit too and they weren’t compatible, if you asked her.
Mahogany went back into the living room. “We good,” her brother announced.
“Cool, go get some boxes.” She tossed him her keys and went to take a shower. Undressing from the get-up that she wore to the malls, she had to check herself. Wearing her emotions on her sleeve had never been her thing and she wasn’t sure where all of these tears had come from lately. Perhaps, she was tired of being so strong. Adversity had been thrown at her like stones and she was barely holding on. Her eyes held no joy. Her body was slumped. One of Porter’s massages would be heavenly right now. She wished that she could sit him down and spill her guts to him, but he wouldn’t trust her. He’d never look at her the same. Not him, the hardworking man who he refused to remain in poverty. She studied him intently as he discussed his devotion to his craft. It wouldn’t sit well with him that she stole the identity of other people to come up for her own reasons. Mahogany was a criminal and to her, he was a saint.
As she allowed the hot water to cascade over her body, she pressed her face near the tile and took a deep breath. She hated what she had to do, but it was all she knew, honestly. This waitressing shit wasn’t her. Taking orders and stuff…she did it because she wanted to be a better person. Truly.
When she left Florida, she promised herself that she was leaving that hot shit behind her, this was an exception to that rule. She managed to get up five thousand dollars in less than two days. Home girl was a true hustler.
η
He was half-listening in on the meeting. The creative marketing team was presenting a proposal for them to start a subscriber service where people on the list would get a notification text to keep them in the loop of what the company was doing. Eventually, he’d tell them that it was a no. But for now, he let them talk as he held his head in his hand and looked interested, although his mind was elsewhere.
He was hungry.
He was horny.
He wished that he would’ve smoked before this meeting.
He regretted not going with his first thought and that was for Juice to listen to their presentation then bring him an overview. As soon as they finished, he would clap his hands, give them a smile, and then promised to be in touch.
Porter’s first stop once he left the office would be sliding by Mahogany’s place because she clearly had him fucked up. He didn’t appreciate her dodging his calls and text. He didn’t like not knowing where her head was, and he also wanted to discuss the things in her folder.
She was a fuckin’ scammer. He had to have his accountants to check all his accounts for any suspicious behavior. If he didn’t pursue her first, he would have wondered if he was a prospect in her little wicked games.
There were a few things that didn’t sit well with him and none of it would be resolved without a conversation. On top of that she’s a rapper? Now he knew why she was often at the studio, but with what money was his other question. She said she hadn’t had sex in five years, was that a lie?
Everything had changed after the background check came back and Jillian’s subtle warning, “Be careful. She’s a far cry from what you’re used to.”
He didn’t respond to her text because she didn’t know what the fuck he liked. No one did, and he was tired of everyone thinking that they knew him better than he knew his damn self.
Porter stood up abruptly. “I gotta jet. Great job. Great job!” He grabbed his iPad and phone.
“Mr. Bavay…” Juice was confused.
“Call you when I get in the car,” he said over his shoulder and then headed for the elevator.
He couldn’t wait until later, he needed to face her now. They weren’t even intimate and the effect she had on him was too overpowering. Porter did the voodoo spells, not the other way around.
As he made his way to her place, he drove in deep thought at how things had changed in his life. Before the plane crash, he was pretty happy. Shit wasn’t peaches and cream, but it damn sure wasn’t fuzzy either. His children were educated and well taken care of. His company was booming, career thriving. His side projects kept him passionate and connected to something other than himself and his ego. Things were great overall he had no complaints. And then...the plane crashed, and shit went left.
He ran away because he didn’t know what else to do. He forced himself into seclusion as punishment for not being a better man, for failing as a father and for treating his wife like the help.
Kim would never leave him, she cared too much about her image…or at least that’s what he assumed.
He made it there, parked and went up the three flights of steps required to get to her door. Her truck wasn’t outside, but that didn’t mean she didn’t park in the back or on the other side.
“Nene moved,” a dude told him as he locked his place up.
“Pardon?”
“She moved. You here for Nene, right?” he had seen Porter the last time he was here.
“Yeah.”
“Mold. Everybody been running out of here like roaches. She moved last week.”
Porter told him thanks and then headed back for his whip.
He called her immediately and she didn’t answer.
He texted and waited for a response. He gave her ten minutes while he checked his email and lined up a few appointments. His phone never dinged to let him know that she had responded his text message.
Porter sighed as he wondered was she even worth the chase.
He went back to work and redesigned the campaign that the creative marketing team had presented. In lieu of the text messages, he decided that an email was better. It was 2019, people were blocking numbers left and right. For the first year, they would try email marketing and then consider the text message route.
He typed up his thoughts while adding some notes for them to review and conduct research before a budget was set and then emailed it to the department chair.
“Lunch?” Casey peeped in his office and asked him.
“Yep, where to?”
“Meeting Carmen, Yara, Nia and them.”
“All women?”
“Hey man, bring your ass.”
He finished up he was doing and then found his friend in an office that he had designated as his. Casey got comfortable wherever he
was. “You ready?”
Porter wasn’t in the mood to hear them gossip.
“I’ll speak then I’m sitting at the bar,” he told him once they entered the restaurant.
Casey mumbled under his breath, “They closed this bitch down…bourgeois asses.”
“What is this?” he asked him after noticing that were really the only people in the restaurant.
“I don’t know. Carmen texted me and told me to bring you.”
With this group of chicks, you never knew what to expect.
“Should I have brought my checkbook?” was the first thing he said when he reached the table.
Yara smiled at him. “It’s on me. Good seeing you again, P.” She eyed him as he made his way around the way to hug and kiss everyone’s cheeks.
“Have we met?” he asked a brown-skinned woman, the only person at the table that didn’t look familiar.
“No, but hello.”
“P, this is my friend Narie. She has a Home Goods line, and it’s so bomb. I’ll get you some candles,” Carmen did the introductions.
“I’ll support. Send me the link.” That would make a good, “Welcome To The Team,” gift for his new employees. See, he didn’t need Jillian anymore. He was slowly thinking for himself again.
Porter squeezed Carmen’s shoulders. “Looking good sis. Y’all ordered?”
He looked for Casey who was at the bar, on the phone in what appeared to be a heated argument.
Because they were alone in the establishment, he was able to yell out, “You goodie bro?”
Casey nodded his head and turned around for some privacy.
“This feels like a set-up, so how about y’all tell me why I’m here. East isn’t here. Quentin isn’t here. Sorry, beautiful, I don’t know if you have a man-”
“I don’t.”
He smiled at her. “I’m sure that won’t be for long.”
Yara couldn’t take this newly single Porter Bavay.
“Leave her alone, P.” Carmen swatted him away.
Nia was texting on her phone and was half-way listening. Yara told the waitress to bring a round of several concoctions and the appetizers.
“Yeah because they’ll tell us no and you won’t.”
He winked at her. “Hmmm, how about we cut to the chase?”
Nia put her phone down. “Okay, I’m back. Hi Porter. You look good. Not surprised though, I told them you were in Paris preparing a comeback,” she teased.
“You know me. Congrats on all your success. I just finished your latest book. It was good. Tell your ghostwriter, I may need em’,” he shot back, playfully.
“Boy please.”
Carmen stood up, being as dramatic as ever. He was happy that she was back to herself.
“Porter, you were the first person I thought of when God gave me this idea and all bullshit aside, I can’t make this happen without y’all help. Financially and spiritually. Y’all know what I’ve been through and I literally promised myself that if walked again I would never sit down or take my gift for granted again, so I’ve been working in silence. Today, the tape is coming off my mouth,” she said, holding back tears.
Yara was so happy for her friend.
Nia clapped. “You know we got you!”
Porter had her as well, but still had no idea of what was going on and why was he invited.
“Okay, I see your face and you’re wondering what the fuck. Okay, I need five million dollars…today.”
He looked back at Casey who was no longer at the bar.
“He gave me what he could. You know he takes care of a million bitches.” She rolled her eyes.
“Carmen send me the business plan and all of that.” He loved her dearly, but five million dollars wasn’t chump change.
A minute later, she said, “Sent.”
He didn’t check his phone, “Alright.” Porter actually came to eat so he dug into the food.
“So, P what’s the tea?” Nia asked.
“How am I supposed to know? I thought I was going to come here and get caught up on what’s happening.”
Yara said, “He be in the house now, girl. Porter ain’t on the scene no more.”
“You may be right, he left the listening party early as fuck.”
“It was two in the morning! I can’t hang no more.” He fell asleep by the time he got home.
“You didn’t even dance with me.” Carmen nudged him.
“Let’s go dancing next week.” That was his partner on the dance floor.
“I’m going to hold you to it and the five million dollars,” she slid the latter in.
Narie made a toast, “To new money, new ventures, new chapters, new checks, new tribes, and new experiences.”
Porter toasted to that.
“Salud.”
Good vibes were needed, and he was thankful that everyone he kicked it with was one-hundred. He ended up sticking around for two hours, catching up with some of his favorite girls.
They snapped a few pictures for social media and then all prepared to leave so that the restaurant could get ready to open for dinner in a few hours.
Casey’s phone was going to voicemail and he rode with the nigga.
Nia told him, “I have a meeting in your building. Are you going back to work?”
They said their goodbyes and the paparazzi was going crazy outside. As soon as Nia’s driver pulled from the curb she said, “Now watch how they say I’m sleeping with you in about ten minutes.” She was already prepared for the drama.
“You’re married. Come on man, they be doing it like that now.”
“Ever since the you know what…they be looking for shit.”
The word affair was still a hard one to say.
“Y’all been good though?”
She nodded her head. “Marriage isn’t perfect, P.”
“If don’t nobody know, I do.”
Nia had heard rumors about Porter being a raunchy man.
“Do you think she stayed with you because of the kids?”
He sighed, “Probably. We loved each other. Tremendously. We struggled with balance. I couldn’t separate work from family.”
“You know that was our issue and his main reason for why he did what he did.”
“Yeah, you’re Nia Hudson though. It’s like what did he expect? I used to tell Kim all the time that I was me when I met her. Like, did you really want me to sit home with you and play with the kids all day?” He shook his head.
She understood completely. “EXACTLY!”
She had missed her dear friend. Porter had always been cool as a fan and Kim as well. Nia had done business with her throughout the years due to her once being a big name in the model world. She often brought her in for consultation and she had also been a listening ear when Nia was going through with her models. Kim was a great woman. She loved seeing her and Porter together at functions and events. People went through shit. She couldn’t and would never point the finger at nobody’s marriage because hers had been through the ringer. When she heard the news of the crash, she hugged her kids for a long time that night and made love to East as if it would be their last encounter. For their small circle of friends, it was a wake-up call that life was short and that could’ve easily been either of them since they all used the same company to charter the private planes and jets. She considered herself lucky and had thanked God without ceasing for weeks.
“It’s about compromise. Take it from me, Nia. After a long day, you want someone to come home to. That lonely shit is for the birds.”
He was feeling it more now than ever since he had recently returned to the states. In France, it was manageable because he was grieving. Here in New York, he was in his element again and you know… he wished that he had someone checking on him, calling him throughout the day. If he had to travel, he wanted someone to accompany him. Porter wanted a friend.
“You’ll meet someone soon. Men like you don’t remain single for long.”
He snorted. “Men like me? I�
�ve got issues.”
She wasn’t trying to hear that. “We all do, no one is perfect. That’s what make the love worth it.”
η
Raheem was about to drive her fucking crazy. She wanted a new number so bad.
“STOP CALLING ME!” she answered the collect call and yelled as soon as she accepted the charges.
Raheem laughed into the phone, causing her spine to tingle and not in a good way. He was poisonous, and she hated his ass.
“What’s up baby?” he asked her, casually, as if they were cool like that.
“Raheem, I’m not sure why you keep calling me. If you call again, I’m going to get my number changed,” she threatened him.
He wasn’t listening to shit she was saying. “Yeah alright. What you been up to?” He didn’t know she lived in New York. He really didn’t know much about her because people stopped answering the phone for him. His family and friends included. It had pained him to accept the reality of no one really caring about him once the money dried up and he went behind those walls. The same people that he had given the world too wouldn’t even pick up when he called. His own mama whose house was paid for and car as well, courtesy of her son, barely answered the phone. Raheem had sent a letter cursing her and his sisters, who hadn’t as much as sent twenty dollars or came to see him. When he came home, they were going to feel his wrath of the frustrations that they had brought upon him. Many nights he laid on his cot, thinking of all the money he freely gave away to niggas. Ungrateful niggas at that. Never again.
No one really had the balls or possessed the loyalty to hold someone down while they were incarcerated, which is why on the rare occasions where a man or woman found that one person that agreed to do their bid with them should never take it for granted. It wasn’t easy to do. Stupidly, Mahogany was that person for Raheem once upon a time. She actually went broke behind him trying to keep a lawyer on retainer. She was going without to make sure he had money on his commission. Those days ended years ago, and he was feeling the emptiness, which is why he constantly called trying to get back in her good graces.
However, it was over for him because when she told him, “FUCK YOU,” she meant every word.
“Nigga, what do you want?” She was getting ready for work and wasn’t in the mood to talk to him.