by Nako
“P, everything good?”
He stood up from the couch where he’d been reading the latest issue of Forbes on which they’d graced the cover.
“That’s a nice look right there,” he spoke of their article.
Quentin glanced at Yara, but she kept her eyes on Porter. She was tired, and her sleep was interrupted.
“Didn’t we see you the other night?” she wanted to be sure although she knew that she was because they chatted.
“Yes, and that’s when it dawned on me…you had a talk with my girl.”
Yara didn’t say anything, she waited on him to finish whatever it was that he had to say.
“For the life of me, I couldn’t understand how she was able to snag Michael Terrazino as a lawyer…and it was you. You told her to watch her back around me.” He had put it all together.
Quentin knew that couldn’t be true.
“Babe, what’s going on?” he spoke directly to his wife.
Yara squinted her eyes at her husband. “Speaking from a personal experience-”
“Do I look like your ugly ass ex to you? What do I have to do with what you been through?” he was angry.
Porter hated to raise his voice in another man’s house, but he was so fucking offended. He lost six months of his life due to Yara tapping into business that didn’t include her.
“I know how it is when you can be in love and a nigga robs you blind. She’s young, talented and beautiful,” she snapped.
“Damn, we’ve been friends for years. Do you really take me for a wipe a bitch nose kind of nigga? Seriously?”
Porter’s reputation spoke for him and he was appalled.
“P, it could’ve been you or anybody else and I still would’ve told her that.”
That was the truth. She told her daughters the same thing. Don’t ever put your eggs in a nigga’s basket. Have your own shit, at all times.
“I pride myself on being a stand-up guy and regardless of what you think, I love the fuck out of that girl. I want to see her doing well in life. I got my own money,” he snarled.
Quentin pushed himself up off the wall. “P, on behalf of my wife, I want to apologize…”
“HUH?” Yara was looking at him as if he had two heads. She wasn’t sorry for shit.
“You overstepped,” Quentin told her, calmly.
Yara shook her head. “P, I love you. Truly. But she was too comfortable with you, period. You couldn’t ask her a damn question without her saying, I’ve got to ask P, or I don’t know let me ask P. For goodness sake, she was about to call you as soon as I reached out to her,” she filled him in on what was real.
Porter ain’t give a fuck how she was feeling about what they had going on. It had nothing to do with her.
“That’s because she trusts me and I’m with that.”
He came and said what he had to say, “It’s all love. I spoke my peace. See y’all around.”
He left their crib and went back to his own. Mahogany was crawling back to the bed as soon he came through the door.
“You took Kareem to school?”
He nodded his head. “Yeah, how you feeling?”
She held her stomach.
“No more Patron for me,” she said that every time she got sick.
“Yeah, I bet.”
She slid her naked body back under the sheets.
Porter returned to bed as well and pulled her close to him.
“Love you,” he snuggled against her back and kissed the side of her head.
She was heading back to sleep already. “Love you too baby.” A few minutes later, she was snoring as usual.
Genesis tapped on the door. “Where the weed at nigga?” P forgot all about getting that for him. He had half a blunt left that would have to hold him over until he went back out the house.
“Come in,” he told him, after he made sure Mahogany was covered up.
“Smoke that right there in that ashtray. I’m going to leave back out in a minute.”
“Good looking.”
P asked him, “You sure you good? Do you know who shot you?” he wanted to see how much he was willing to speak on, although P already had the situation looked into.
“Yeah and nah.”
Genesis still didn’t trust him. He hoped that changed soon because he was here to stay. After he left the bedroom, Mahogany pushed her butt against his shaft.
“Yo ass was just snoring.”
“Well, I’m horny now.” She turned around and stuck her tongue in his mouth.
“What you on?”
She gave him a sexy face as she kept it real with him, “About to be your dick in a hot second.”
η
Yara watched Quentin lock the door behind their friend before going to put a kettle of hot water on to make her a cup of tea. Tea in the morning and tea before bed was how she started and ended each day. God had been so good to Yara on some days she found herself pinching her skin to make sure it was all real. When she was in and out of meetings, tired as ever, body drained and head hurting, she had to stop herself from complaining because He had given her purpose when she wasn’t even looking for it. Her personal friend and spiritual leader left a Word with her less than two days ago and on today she remembered it again, “Don’t stop leaning on God now that you have the strength to stand on your own.”
Yara began to hum a Gospel song under her breath as she moved around the clean and pristine kitchen. She wasn’t one that had to have breakfast, but her hubby loved it, so she would whip him up something quick and maybe they would spend a few hours in bed before starting their day.
“Yara, let me talk to you for you a second,” the tone he used when he entered the kitchen quickly let her know that he was mad at her.
“I’m in a great mood today, Quentin,” calling him by his government was a silent warning to tread lightly. She didn’t do well with being “checked” by nobody. She let P get a pass because he was in his feelings, but she meant what she said and stood on that firmly. Too often, we allowed love and being wanted by these “niggas” with money to sidetrack us from what was important. Mahogany reminded her too much of who she was many years ago and as a woman who now was quite successful she wanted to pull her coat tail to let her know, “Hey focus on your money. Don’t let this dick distract you.”
It wasn’t necessarily a reflection of Porter or even her calling him out as a bad person, she was speaking on what was real. Friend or not, these niggas will be niggas.
“Me too and we’ll stay that way, but going forward-”
She wasn’t even letting him get a word out, “Going forward what?”
He gave her a look that on any other day could’ve softened her approach, but not today. She was ready for whatever he would try to throw at her.
“Drink your tea first. You need a blunt?”
His wife was a quiet, smooth, relaxed and humble being, but every now and then that hood, “I been to prison nigga, don’t try me” side would come out of her.
“No, I don’t. Talk to me,” she was ready to get it over with. Quentin was a blessing in itself. He was an amazing husband who didn’t believe in walking around feeling some type of way, so she should’ve expected him to speak his mind.
He took a seat at the breakfast bar. “Can you hand me a banana?”
A few months he suffered a heart attack due to stress and ever since that had turned into a health nut. Yara was all for it, due to their busy schedules they ate a lot of take-out and had cut back on eating fast food tremendously. They had they money to hire a chef and to have meal prep catered on the weekly basis and it was one of the best investments she made.
“Do you want breakfast? I was going to make you an omelet?”
Quentin told her, “Oh, you’re in a good mood today.”
“Whatever, what do you have to say to me? I’m listening.”
“You overstepped. Simple as that.”
He didn’t have much to say, he merely wanted her to know that she was
out of line.
“Overstepped, how?”
She didn’t agree with him at all.
“Yara, did you see the look on P’s face? That nigga’s feeling was clearly hurt. Yo, look at what time it is?” he pointed to the time on the stove behind her.
“Hurt? Imagine doing time and coming home to find out-”
He had heard this story so many times, he could tell it himself.
“What does that have to do with him though? It wasn’t your place, you gotta stop doing that.”
Yara was an advocate. She’ll forever use her voice to help these young girls. Love was blinding.
“I bet you that she got her affairs in order,” she huffed.
Quentin saw that it wasn’t no getting through to her. “Let me know when the food is done… Matter of fact, bring it upstairs.” He was tired and breakfast in bed sounded more like a better plan to him.
“I got you, baby,” she told him with joy. Yara was thankful that he didn’t argue with her about the conversation she had with Mahogany.
She decided to text P later on in the week to let him know that she didn’t have any ill intention and was still eager to partner with Mahogany in relations to business. Her eye was forever on the prize and she was confident that she could take her to higher heights.
P did what he could do, which was a great job thus far. Now it was time for her to break records.
She went back to humming her favorite Gospel song as she poured the hot water over a tea bag into a white mug.
“Today is going to be a good day,” she affirmed.
η
It was her first live performance on television and she couldn’t stop shitting. Juice banged on the bathroom door. “Like is this real right now?” he hissed.
She held her nose because hell, the smell was crucial. She could’ve easily passed out in there if she took exhaled it again.
“Whose idea was it to eat breakfast tacos this morning, like for real?” she blamed whoever stopped at the food truck.
“Mahogany, you better wipe yo’ ass and come on. You gotta get to makeup and hair.”
She grunted as more shit dropped in the toilet.
“Ooh, okay. I’m coming,” she lied, her stomach was doing somersaults. She didn’t know when it would stop.
“You got five more minutes,” he told her before walking away.
It was her nerves. She wasn’t feeling good and what if she forgot the words to the song? What if 21 took over the stage and she looked out of place? Everything that could possibly go wrong, ran across her mind.
Vomit began to seep out of her mouth as she tried to keep it contained with her hands. She hopped off the toilet and turned around and threw up.
Porter came in the bathroom and had to hold his damn nose.
“Damn baby, what you eat?”
She coughed up a lung as everything that she’d consumed a few hours before cascaded out of her mouth and into the toilet. P saw that she was sick for real, he went to the sink and wet a few paper towels. Once she was certain that she was done throwing up, she wiped her butt.
“I need to shower,” she was disgusted with herself and wished that he’d get out.
They were close, but not this damn close. She didn’t want to smell his boo boo and she didn’t want him smelling hers.
“You can’t shower, just wash up real good. Everyone is on standby waiting on you. I’ll tell them you had food poisoning.”
He left her alone and she tried her best to pull it together. Mahogany rinsed her mouth and looked at herself in the mirror.
“You got this,” she told herself over and over again.
In the makeup chair, she chewed on a Tums to settle her stomach.
“Baby, how you feeling?” her man came over to make sure she was straight. It was as if they hadn’t missed a beat and it felt good to know that they were able to reconnect instantly. Her smile had returned.
“I’m okay. Ready to go home.”
After this performance, all she wanted was a hot shower and her bed.
“We’ll leave soon as you step off the stage. I need you to pep up and kill this shit though. This is Jimmy Fallon, baby.”
It was a big damn deal. Her and 21 had a hit.
She rolled her eyes as she nodded her head. “Yeah, P. I know.”
The denim two-piece that Carmen picked out for her fit a lil’ snug.
“Yeah, you’ve been eating good mama,” she commented as she tried to button up the jacket.
Her and P had six months of dates and shit to catch up on, so she definitely had been pigging out lately.
“Do she need to wear something else?” Juice asked, because the outfit wasn’t too appealing on her thick frame.
“I look fat?”
No one wanted to speak the truth.
“I got a dress in my bag. What if I wear that with the jacket open and those pink Gucci boots?” she suggested.
Carmen told her, “Let’s see.”
“Two minutes!” the producer called out.
Panic set in. “OH MY GOD!” she groaned.
“Relax, stars go through this all the time,” Carmen told her, as she rummaged through her junk bag, looking for a gold necklace.
Mahogany wasn’t no damn star, she needed to be on stage on time.
Across the state lines, in an overcrowded, dark and smelly federal facility, Inmate 3569661 knew he heard a familiar voice. When he turned around to get a better look at the television from the room he was in, his mind had to be playing tricks on him. He heard that she was doing her lil’ thing, but his ex-girlfriend who he still claimed as his main bitch was on the stage really popping her shit. A big smile graced his face as he bobbed his head, she was swaying those thick ass thighs and rapping like a real bitch from the bottom. He was proud of Mahogany. She always said she was going to be famous one day. Once the song ended, the camera followed her backstage, not caring that 21 was still on the stage rapping.
She ran into some nigga’s arms and that’s when the smile fell from his face.
“The fuck?”
Raheem really thought that she was at home still waiting on him…
The grass was greener on the side. Way greener. Raheem hadn’t crossed her mind in a long time. Porter had her and he wasn’t giving her back.
η
Burke was grown. He was addicted to drugs and now he wasn’t. He was a grown ass man and could do without the “Welcome Home” party, balloons and cake. In fact, he asked them as soon as they finished screaming and shit.
“When are we getting back to business?”
He wasn’t interested in sitting around like a clown, talking about how “refreshing and rejuvenating” rehab was for him. That would be a lie. He did the stupid ass twelve-step program and now he was ready to get to the money. Burke chalked his family up as a loss and wished his kids the best from a distance. He was a sorry husband and an even lousier father, and they were better off without him. He made that bed and laid in it without any remorse.
“Business?” Jillian raised an eyebrow, as she looked over at P, whose face held no emotion. Per Usual.
Casey stood up and buttoned his suit jacket. “We were thinking that you’d take this year off and when Mahogany goes on tour, you could be the road manager.”
P looked at him, knowing that the nigga was lying. They hadn’t discussed that at all. Casey came up with that shit on a whim.
“Road manager? Nigga, do I look like my name is Big Will or some shit to you? I got three fucking degrees. I’m not going on no tour and who the hell is Mahogany?” They were about to piss Burke clean the fuck off. His blood pressure was rising. He wanted his job back, the one they promised him he would have upon his completion of rehab. He held his end of the bargain up.
“AND WHO IS THIS DIGGY SIMMONS LOOKING ASS NIGGA?” He pointed to Juice.
Jillian erupted into laughter, “Oh my God, I was thinking he looked like Diggy too…”
P shot her a look that stifled h
er humor. Jillian cleared her throat and sat up in her seat, now feeling stupid as ever.
“You ain’t got nothing to say today?” Burke shot nastily at P.
“Yo, chill. I’m caught off guard by all of y’all. How about we pray first?” he suggested.
Casey took a deep breath. “My sister is running off on you, it’s official,”
He went to church as much as they did, but hadn’t yet been affected by the Word. His mind was so distracted that he normally thought about work the whole time anyway.
“P, pray when you get home. Do I have my job back or not?” he wasn’t about to play any more games with them.
“Well, I was thinking about moving Juice up to VP, Jillian taking over the new talent division and then I stay where I’m at.”
Juice’s eyes bucked and so did Jillian’s.
“Swear?” She would love to be back on the scene.
Porter wasn’t stunting Jillian’s reaction, he knew that she would be delighted. His concern was Juice.
“You don’t seem happy?” he noticed.
Juice sat up in his seat and ran his hands over his clean-shaven face. “I’m grateful. Humbled…all of that, but I was thinking about asking you if I could manage Mahogany?” he finally spoke up.
Casey eyed the young boy. He would choose VP over managing her bossy ass any day. “You don’t want to do that, trust me.”
Juice then said, “I think it’s my calling.”
Porter shook his head. “You’re saying that because y’all are close and you see her career taking off. Imagine doing that for tons of artist,” he was trying to get him the bigger picture.
Juice knew what he wanted, but he remained quiet, knowing that P was only speaking from experience.
“Consider what I’m saying before you say no. That’s all I’m asking. Split your days up, spend some time in the office,” he suggested.
That sounded like a good idea to Juice. “Okay and thanks for the opp, Boss.” He tapped his heart twice, something that he and Mahogany now did often.
Burke remained near his welcome home set up, wondering when they were going to get back to him and his damn future. Rehab hadn’t stopped his life.
“Uh, hello. P Diddy, glad that you found your new Farnsworth, but uh, I want my job back.”
Casey wasn’t so sure about him hopping right back in the mix. Beauty By Bavay was booming right now. Could Burke handle the pressure?