by Nako
Kareem was restless. Today had been long and she needed a drink. “Babe, let them at least put the couch down. He needs to lay down.”
Porter turned around and asked Kareem, “You sleepy, buddy?”
Her little chocolate drop rubbed his eyes and nodded his head up and down.
“I thought we talked about that?” P scolded.
“Yes sir.”
Mahogany could only smile and rub the top of his head. Porter spent a lot of time with her baby and she was grateful. They went to the movies, the park, and little Kareem had become a regular sitting courtside at the basketball games with P. Often, Porter would get him matching sneakers for when they hung out and it was cutest thing ever. Mahogany had tons of pictures of her two guys in her phone. She was appreciative that he stepped up and became the man figure her son needed. Kareem respected P and he was teaching him so much about growing up.
“Aye my guy, let’s unload the other truck. It should have the living room furniture.”
“Y’all could always go back to my house and come back in the morning.”
She shook her head no. “I’M NOT DOING THAT!”
Mahogany was tired as hell. They caught a red eye to NYC to deal with the “rumor” that was actually true, which is why she didn’t understand why he was making such a big deal out of it.
“Chill.” He wasn’t with that yelling shit.
She rolled her eyes and walked off, leaving Kareem and P in what was called a “gathering room”.
She went from living in the hood to a nice, pricey neighborhood in less than a few hours. The brownstone was located in a recently gentrified area that gave her the feel-good vibes. People were outside painting, walking their dogs and listening to Beethoven and shit. She loved the area and couldn’t wait until she was settled, so she could explore the community. Porter told her that the house was paid for and gave her the deed to the tri-level home this morning.
She told him thank you and reminded him a million times that the move wasn’t necessary. Her apartment was in the hood, that was a fact, but she wasn’t bothered by it. His money was his money and she could care less what the gossip sites were saying.
However, her honey bunny did.
What had happened was…
The Mayan was lit as fuck the other night, all the people in there were most likely under the influence of all kinds of shit. Porter held Mahogany’s hand as they were escorted by security to the VIP section that he normally got whenever he frequented any club. Although, he wasn’t considered the most “famous” nigga in the industry, people still knew him. Not only was he rich as hell, but he was fine as fuck, so it didn’t cause much for him to receive unwarranted attention. The lights and cameras were always on him. Many people wondered how he knew who he knew and could never connect the dots when it came to him. All they knew was what the internet reported, and his name was mainly connected to his late wife.
Future’s new album played loudly in the club and Mahogany was rolling up a blunt for them to smoke while standing in between his legs moving to the beat of one of the jams on the album, Temptation, which was his favorite track so far. One of his hands lazily rested on the side of her hip as he drank Ace out of the bottle and bobbed his head. They were so in the zone and was honestly happy to be out enjoying life with each other after a long week that no one cared to look at out who saw them out. She was getting a buzz but didn’t think much of nothing by being seen out with her man. Mahogany was looking really sexy too. Her signature blonde was in a blunt cut bob. She did her makeup and did a good job on it. Her lips were painted pink and it matched the dress she wore down to her Prada pumps. Thick thighs, long legs and a fat ass wasn’t what made her the woman she was. His lady gave him a feeling that he’d never find anywhere else. She turned around and handed him the blunt.
He reached down to whisper in her ear, “Thank you.”
She then placed a big pink kiss on his cheek. Over the course of whole night when familiar faces came to show love, they pointed out the lips on his face. He would only laugh and point to his girl who spent the duration in the club dancing and rapping to Porter.
She was a lil’ rough around the edges but he fucked with her and it turned him on he could care less what it looked like on the outside looking in.
However, days later after she was spotted in the mall licking on an ice cream cone, apparently the social media sites and their fake ass private investigators started their search and the next morning the headlines on all timelines read, “Pretty Boy P is back on the scene and he ain’t Future. Oh no, he was spotted getting real cozy up with former rap reject who is slowly making a comeback.”
Later on that day, they followed up with more. “Sources say that she lives in the hood, yet she drives a tricked out Range that Pretty Boy P pink slipped.”
The rumor mill was turning, and people had a lot to say.
Porter bagged a stripper.
He done fell in love with her son and shit. They be at all the games.
She was a scammer in Miami and was known for setting niggas up.
Her ex-boyfriend was the biggest scammer in Florida.
The hoe couldn’t rap.
Porter could do better.
Her titties were fake, and her ass was too.
Was he cheating on his wife with her?
Porter was paying for pussy.
The blonde hair made her look like a drag queen.
She was using him and looking for a come-up.
Sources also claimed that he dragged her out the strip club and made her his house bitch. Then he read something else that said she was pregnant already.
Shit was crazy, and he ignored the majority of the shit, but that “still live in the hood” comment made him hot. Porter told her to bring her ass home and he copped her a crib while she was in the skies.
The place was magnificent. She wanted to decorate and paint herself, but of course Mr. Make It Happen had interior decorators on stand-by. He told her that she could add her own personal touch, but he wanted that bitch furnished immediately.
So here they were. Her son was sleepy, she was annoyed, and he was yelling at the bootleg movers that someone hired for him.
Porter swore that the rumors didn’t faze him, but this clearly told her otherwise. He found her an hour or so later with her journal in hand and a blunt in the other.
“Keep one rolled, don’t you?” he teased as he pulled her into his arms.
“I’m sorry.”
She was doing better with keeping her attitude in check, but she was still human. If your nigga didn’t get on your nerves on a regular basis then something was wrong.
“I know I be moving too fast for you. It never registered to me that you still lived there…” and that was the truth. Her brother was there more than she was. She and Kareem stayed with P whenever she came to the city.
“I wasn’t tripping. What we got going on ain’t nobody’s business.” That wasn’t her first time telling him that.
His pride took a hit today and he upgraded her the fast way.
Porter took the blunt from her and hit it a few times before passing it back to her. “Do you like the house though?”
She’d told him thank you when he handed her the deed, yet he hadn’t seen her really react to how open and massive the place was in comparison from where he had moved her from.
“I love it. I want to get a few things tomorrow.”
She was certain that the interior designers had ordered some dope shit. However, this was her house and she wanted to go shopping.
“The world is yours,” he was always telling her that and she believed him too.
He didn’t stay with her long.
“Where you going? Is Reem still sleep?”
He nodded his head. “Knocked the hell out. I’m trying to figure out where he works at?”
She busted out laughing. “Leave my baby alone. He told me this morning, ‘mommy, I’m tired of flying. What’s another way we can g
et there?’”
Not in a million years did she think her son would be racking up in sky miles.
“I don’t know what he gon’ do when you start touring.”
Her eyes grew in surprise. “You think I’ll get there?”
“Your song is number eight on the charts right now. Hell yeah, baby!” he shouted.
Mahogany was still low-balling herself and she didn’t know why. She was one of those, “I gotta see it with my own eyes to believe it,” kind of people. Number eight was cool, but she was really aiming for that numero uno title.
“We’ll see baby.”
She went back to writing in her journal, something that she did on a daily basis and he went back to overseeing the move. Once the day winded down, the trio went to dinner up the street as a family.
“First night in the cribbo. Baby, tell P thank you.”
Kareem reached over the table and held his little fist out. “Thanks P! I wish you was my daddy,” he mumbled causally under his breath. Porter heard him, and Mahogany did too. She didn’t know what to say or how to react.
“We’re all one big family. How about some ice cream?”
η
It was Teka’s birthday and everyone came out to celebrate. Mahogany chose to stay home and paint some freakin’ wall in the mirror that she claimed would be where she snapped all her pictures since she was now active on Instagram. She refused to respond to all the tags, comments, and direct messages that people have been wanting to know more about her and P’s relationship. She wasn’t clearing shit up or confirming a motherfucking thing. People could think what they wanted. She’d lived her whole life worrying about what people thought about her, and those days were behind her. Thankful that she no longer let others validate how she moved. Her confidence was at an all-time high right now and she was thankful.
It wasn’t that she was hiding her nigga from the world or didn’t want to show him off because Porter Bavay was an angel sent directly from above, but her career was still really fresh. She didn’t want people listening to her strictly because of him. None of her songs had any direct correlation to her relationship with him or how they felt about each other. What they shared was sacred and she’d never let the internet trolls come fucking up what they’d been working hard to build. It wasn’t happening.
She made love to him before he headed out and promised that when he came through the door upon his return, she would be ready for more. Mahogany could never get enough of her sweet man. He was the greatest in every aspect.
Porter purchased Teka stock in this new tech company knowing how much she was into investments these days since her late sister was the guru of stacking it to the ceiling.
Big Mo was a longtime friend of his. He didn’t even sell weed no more, yet P was still a client of his. He was the only man he trusted enough to cop from.
They were like family to him. He came to celebrate life and turn up at the same damn time.
“Mexico, Mexico, working like a Mexicano,” he rapped. He loved a good old school house party, but with new school tunes. They kept it simple this year since Teka was pregnant again. Moses was on the grill and his mom made the sides. Everybody was drinking beer and smoking weed.
“Nigga, you love Future, don’t you?” that was how Casey welcomed himself into the conversation. Porter hadn’t seen him since he punched him. He hadn’t been around the office. Or maybe was he just not looking for him?
It was then that he remembered he never called him.
Damn, he thought to himself.
Porter gave him a warm smile as they dapped each other up and then hugged.
Casey said lowly, “Love you, my nigga. It’s deeper than the surface.”
That was their saying after things got too tense between them. Who didn’t argue with the people that they loved?
P was all good.
“We gotta chalk it up soon,” he said back.
Casey had a beer in his hand and beer was cool, nothing to trip about. He would be sure to keep count of how many he had throughout the night to see if there was some truth to what Carmen was saying. She sounded incredibly worried about her brother and P didn’t want to not take it serious.
“When are we addressing the elephant in the room?” Teka waddled over and asked.
P was still rapping along to the drink and nursing his Dos Equis beer. He had a hand-rolled cigar in his other hand that Big Mo gave him when he first walked in.
“Chile, I was waiting on one of y’all to say something,” another one of their friends said.
Casey snickered because P was oblivious to what they were talking about.
“Where ya lady at?” he questioned, bringing him in to the conversation.
Porter looked up. “At the house, painting,” he kept it short.
Teka had to ask him though, “Oh, you moved her out the hood already?
This nigga moved fast as hell if he did.”
Moses eyed her from where he sat, wanting her to mind her damn business. He had told her about that before with their other friends.
P was cooler than a fan in his response, “Yep, lil’ brownstone in Brooklyn. Paid cash for it.” He wasn’t flexing or nothing, only stating facts.
“When are we going to meet her? Is it serious?”
Porter shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. She’s really…anti-social. I’m trying to break her out of that.”
He caught Carmen rolling her eyes and he really hated that Mahogany left a bad taste in her mouth because she was a sweet girl.
“Yeah, well tonight would’ve been perfect to make that happen.”
Before P could say anything back, Moses chimed in, “The girl just moved. I’m sure she’s unpacking and shit. Happy for you my guy.” He stood up and shook his hand.
Casey added his two cents, “Yeah, me too. Don’t move too fast this time though.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the small gathering.
Porter cut his eyes at him. “You know me, baby.” He didn’t want to knock this nigga out again. Seriously.
Porter took a sip of the drink and went back to rapping and enjoying his night, hoping that the attention was off him. After he ate and had two more beers, he decided he was ready to leave. Mahogany sent him a picture of her in the tub with the caption, “First time and you’re not here.” Which is what most likely sped up his departure.
“Big homieeee, this was lovely. Always a good time with The Parks family.” He gave him a firm handshake.
“Preciate you. And don’t listen to Teka, you keep her under wraps all you want man,” he cleared that up, on behalf of his nosey ass wife.
“Teka be looking out. I fuck with that. Y’all will meet her soon. I’m going to talk to her tonight about a housewarming. It’s her first crib.”
Why did he say that? Moses nodded his head, thinking to himself, “Nigga, I bet it is.”
“Well, she had a place, but was renting. You know what I’m saying,” he tried to laugh it off.
Moses wasn’t tripping. “Get home safe, bro.”
Porter threw the deuces up to everyone else and headed out the house.
On the sidewalk where his whip was parked, he saw Casey leaning against his own vehicle on the phone.
“You out?”
He nodded his head. “Yep, I’ll call you tomorrow, so we can link.”
That sounded like a plan to Casey.
Porter did the dash home and as soon as he came through the door and found his way towards the master bedroom, Mahogany was getting out of the tub.
“Nah, get your ass back in.”
She laughed loudly, “Man, you took too long to get here. My legs and fingers are pruney.” She showed him her fingers.
Porter began to undress.
“Come on baby…” He wanted to relive that experience.
“How abouttttttt…we finish that lil’ thing we was doing earlier then take a shower together?” she suggested.
Porter had done so much nasty a
ss stuff to her before he left that he had no idea which particular act she was referring to.
“When I ate your ass or when you were in the air?”
Mahogany’s nipples puffed up at the sight of his naked body. She lost her train of thought as he walked over to her wrapped up frame in the towel.
“Which one baby?” Porter licked his lips.
“The..ummm….the thing you did…” she couldn’t even talk. His lips were on her neck and her pussy had begun to drip.
Porter Bavay was the one and the only one for her.
C H A P T E R 17
Bitch, I’m the problem that you do not want. – Light Skinned Keisha
Genesis called to let her know that she had mail at the apartment and because her bills had been sent via email, she didn’t have a clue on what it could be. Until he expressed to her that it was a letter from jail…
She told him to throw it away, then called back minutes later and told him to take it out the trash. Genesis wasn’t a man with much patience. He ended up telling her to make up her motherfucking mind because he was playing the game and she was getting on his nerves. Her brother was the laziest nigga she knew yet got more pussy than the average man. Mahogany had to wait until she returned to New York to read the letter and when she did… She was fuckin’ devastated.
Congrats on the hit or whatever… Let me get straight to the point since I know a bitch like you don’t like to read…
η
Mahogany was excited about her social media training and PR bootcamp. According to her man, it was vital that she knew how to handle any and all kinds of questions because people didn’t give a fuck what they asked you. It was many journalists’ goals to embarrass you anyway. Whatever they could get you to say that could be later turned into a GIF or Meme, seemed like the wave right now. Her attitude was horrible and that was the point of the bootcamp. For the next few weeks, she would be in professional training and one-on-one workshops where the best in the business would mold her into what people one day call a ‘star'.
Beyoncé’s never had a bad interview and Mahogany Sinclair wouldn’t either. Being on time was the best way to get things off on the right foot, so despite the crazy traffic coming into Manhattan, she’d arrived thirty minutes prior to the time she was scheduled to start. She had time to use the restroom, clear her nerves, and have a cup of tea. Since she was back actively on social media, she took that time to scroll her timeline. Wasn’t nothing really happening on Instagram and if she wasn’t serious about her career, she would’ve never returned. Her page had been cleaned up and she currently only had about nineteen pictures that were pretty recent. Gone were the photographs of her and her ex, Raheem, looking high out their mind in the club or the pictures of her posting bags and shit that she had for sell. Her image was being completely revamped. She found comfort and peace in living her life off the grid, but business was business. In the year 2019, it was all about your social media presence. People wanted to feel like they were connected to you. Porter told her to show her bare face in the morning, what she was cooking, when she was in the car being silly. The goal was to make her relatable, and it was important that her new fans felt as if she was cool ass chick, the girl next door or even better, your favorite cousin that came to stay with you and your family every summer.