by Love Belvin
I tossed my bag over my shoulder and handed the money to Dimitri. “This is for this past week. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” I smiled, leaving the studio and hopping down the stairs.
Robert was at the foot of the steps waiting on me. As we promenaded to the car, he was visibly on alert with his head swinging and hand at the holster on his hip.
Once inside, I reminded him, “Just one more short stop before B-Way Burger.”
“You got it, ma’am.”
She yawned again, stretching her chocolate toned thighs in front of her.
Leaning further back in my seat, I laughed at her. “My bad! I’m going to let you go. I know you have to get ready for work. You look miserable.”
“Nah. Shit, you good!” She rubbed her eyes, avoiding her long individual lashes. “A bitch woulda probably overslept anyway.” I’d called Tasche asking her to come down to say hello, wanting to catch her before her shift. We’d been in front of her place for over twenty minutes now. A smile lifted on her face as she gazed around the car. “Pulling up on a bitch in the Big B! Hahn!” She extended her tongue toward her chin as she fake twerked in her seat. “This bitch is fiyah! I ain’t see this shit before.”
“It’s Earl’s…Sadik’s father,” I explained. Since one of his drivers had been taxiing me around, this Bentley had been the chosen vehicle. I heard from Stacy it was bulletproof. A detail I couldn’t share with Tasche. “Nice, huhn?” My eyes circled, appreciating the interior lighting.
“Boss level shit,” she agreed.
A thought crossed my mind. “Before you go: what are you doing for your birthday? I know we’ve been hit or miss lately, but trust me; it’s been the pace of my life. Some days, I look at my baby and wonder where I’ve been when I notice a new milestone he reaches. This year is half gone and it feels like a complete blur.”
“Don’t sweat it, shortie.” Tasche waved me off with her hand. “I know how that mother shit consumes you, ya heard. Don’t forget my girl, Lex, got three of them now. They so fuckin’ cute, and so goddamn busy. I get it.” Her head bobbed as she peered out of the window. “But for my birthday?” Tasche shrugged. “I ‘on’t even know. I know my dude wanna do something special.”
My face lit up with wonder like a Christmas tree. “Like what?”
“Get a room or some shit. I ‘on’t really give a fuck. Maybe fix my room up with them damn rose petals you see at the Budget Dollar and candles, cop some Henny, and play some Luther.” She shrugged again. “I ‘on’t know. Long as we doing some shit to build something between us, it don’t matter. You feel me?”
I nodded with lifting lips. “I thought you’d say a VIP section at a club with your girls.” I rubbed my belly. “That may have left me out, though.” I pouted ruefully.
“Nah. Fuck them clubs. Since that war in the streets last year with them fuckin’ Italians and then the Dominicans, I ain’t been wanting to be out like that. But we could do something together. I’ll think of something.”
“I’m just surprised.”
“B, a bitch get tired of the same old fast lane. I’m tryna be like you and Lex: laid the fuck up with my pussy out, smoking a L with my shortie. You feel me?”
“You want a family?” I flinched at that, hands clenching with fistfuls of the hem of my wet shirt. “I’m sorry. I know that’s a—I forget sometimes—most times.” I couldn’t stop tripping over my words.
“It’s all good, shortie. I’m good with my bones. My princess is living her best life with her father. She good with them on her dad side. Maybe it all worked out for the best.” She shrugged while yawning.
I couldn’t see how that was possible. A couple of years ago before she moved to Paterson, Tasche’s daughter’s father filed for sole custody of their daughter after learning she’d gotten beat up pretty bad by a John after work. He waited for her in the parking lot and attacked her. Luckily some guys, cutting through the lot at four in the morning, saw it or she could have been raped or killed. She was hospitalized and kept for two nights. Her daughter’s father apparently had enough of Tasche’s lifestyle. When he filed, she was in the process of moving to Jersey and thought her daughter was coming with her. She even rented a two-bedroom apartment. The father won full custody. Tasche can only see her daughter when her father grants it. She’s only talked about it twice with me, which led me to believe it was a painful loss for her. It understandably should have been.
“I shouldn’t have asked that question, though,” I murmured.
“It’s a legit question, though, Bilan. And my answer is hell fuckin’ no!” She laughed. “I’m too old for that shit now, B! It’s time for me to grow the fuck up, though. Settle the hell down. I’m getting too old to be turning up with my girls. It’s time for some grown-up shit.”
My face folded. “You ain’t that old, Tasche.” Then I thought. “Right?”
“Yeah, girl.”
My head remained ahead, still trying to get past my blunder, but my eyes rolled her way. “How old?”
“Shit!” She dropped her foot. “Thirty-seven.”
I leaped in my seat, rocking the car. “Thirty-seven?” I parroted.
Tasche’s almost Sadik’s age? Noooooo way…
She nodded with an unapologetic smile. “You been fuckin’ with a O.G. and ain’t even know it, yo.”
Her demeanor was casual while I was still in unqualified shock. My eyes roved up her long, strapping mahogany legs to her ever-flat belly, up to her naturally bountiful breasts, and finally up to her smooth, lineless face. Tasche’s body appeared as a woman younger than me. She didn’t exercise as much as I did and was unfairly muscular.
“You’re joking,” I choked out. “How old is Lex?”
Completely ignoring my aghast, Tasche chuckled. “She young like you—‘bout…three years older than you. She a baby, too, yo.”
“How did you two meet?”
“Around the way. She Harlem world. We was in the same schools, but I was a little ahead of her. Shit! I shoulda been way ahead of her, but got left back a couple of times, fuckin’ wit my moms. She had me missing too many days one year then it got to the point I couldn’t keep up the next year. But yeah; me and Lex go way the fuck back, since kids. Then she started working at Rusty’s. I was dancing and she was waiting tables, and shit. But we went to the same schools—different grades, though.”
“Why am I just learning this?”
She shrugged again. “It ain’t important ‘till you wake up one day and see you been running so fuckin’ hard, blowing fuckin’ money, fuckin’ with no good-ass niggas, and just…wasting mad time, yo.” She peered over to me. “I’m tired. Need me a shortie to finish this shit with. Hopefully, somebody that ain’t with the shits.”
I nodded, still incredibly stunned. “Well, this has been more enlightening than I planned.”
Tasche belted a chortle, her palm in the air awaiting mine. “I’m out, yo. I need to call shortie before I get ready for this shift.”
“Okay.” I ignored her manly dab offering and pulled her into a hug. “I love you too much for hand-smacks.” Raw emotion cut through my cords. I knew I smelled of dried perspiration from the gym in the June temperature, but didn’t care. “I love you, woman. Grateful to call you friend.”
When we withdrew, Tasche mumbled, “Don’t start that sappy shit, yo. We good.”
I rolled my eyes at that. “Have you heard from Randi?”
“Not really.” She yawned again. “My peoples told me she was at Pulse. Heard she be there and at Energy hard. She prolly at Pulse tonight. I think their anniversary’s poppin’ off.” Abruptly, as though struck with a thought, Tasche snapped her fingers. “I meant to tell you some shit, yo!”
“What?” I panicked.
“Ya peoples be at my job!”
“Who?”
“Ya lil’ cousin. The one that came to the party you threw me at ya moms’ place when I ended up doing that pole class…” I thought for a minute. My face hardening. I recalled no on
e, likely intoxicated at the party. Tasche sucked her teeth. “The one with the braids! I think you said she a damn trash lady.”
My eyes bloomed in realization. “Oh! Brenda?”
“Yeah!” she spat animatedly. “Her. She be at my spot hard. The girls said she be throwing a bundle and shit, yo!”
Brenda?
She was strange, but… Brenda? Aunt Astur would have a conniption if she knew one of my best friends was employed there, much less her daughter patronizing the place. That piece of information thunderstruck me. Poor Brenda had always been strange. Different in more ways than one.
Stunned again, my gaze got stuck at the back of the driver’s seat and I nodded. In the recesses of my mind, I knew I had to be urgent with my time.
“That’s crazy. Make sure they don’t take advantage of my little cousin,” I requested. Without waiting for a reply, I groaned, “I need to get going, too.”
“A’ight, yo. I’ll hit you.” She slapped my thigh as a parting acknowledgment.
I shifted down in my seat, still stuck on Tasche’s announcement. I tried not giving that my focus. I missed my baby. Too much space and time were between him snuggling into my breasts.
Besides that, I hoped to be settled before Sadik FaceTime’d us.
“She said they ready,” Jamil announced from the front seat.
I was finishing up on an email to my Ellis International staff and giving Rory marching orders. My schedule had been derailed by hours, and hours when you’re flying with a large number of people on a private aircraft equates to major dollars.
“Now?” I asked, acknowledging him. “Okay.” As I finished up on the email, a thought hit. I turned to Rory. “And reach out to Jeffery at the gun range on the compound. Ask him to clear some time for Bilan. I want her in there at least twice a week.”
I’d been falling off with my new wife in too many areas lately. After she had Sadik, I pledged to teach her how to shoot various guns. We’d gone to the range at Elliswoods Palace until we returned with our new family to the penthouse. Now was a critical time for our security and while she was at the estate so much during this lockdown, she should make good usage of the amenities there. Bilan needed to know how to use a gun, and several types.
Once I hit send on the email, I closed the laptop and tossed it in the seat next to me.
“Rory, hit Mel up and be sure she’s got some of Taaliba’s tea in stock. Ask her to have it ready.”
“Gotchu.” Rory typed rapidly in her phone.
“Alright,” I sighed, rubbing my eyes. “Let’s do this shit.”
Seconds later, the door to the limo opened and Rory hopped out first, communicating with Johnson, who’d been waiting on us outside. When given the cue, I slid out and stood to straighten my suit and tie. The cameras flashed on the red carpet a few feet away.
“This way.” Johnson pointed as he took off. I followed him and Rory trailed behind me. The moment our feet hit the carpet, all senses intensified. The glaring flashes of cameras, the music from the club when the door opened, the shouting of my name. Tiffany was in the center being primed by her team: fluffing her hair, smoothing down her skin-tight knee-length dress, and one quickly brushing her cheeks. She waved me on with excitement.
“Mr. Ellis, here!” One photographer shouted.
“Sadik! Hey!” Another tried gaining my attention.
It was clear Tiffany made a big deal out of the anniversary of her clubs. This was more activity than I anticipated.
Knowing my role, I assumed the pose when arriving to her. My arm extended, welcoming her to me. She hastily curled into my side.
“I thought you were gonna blow me off again,” her tone as petite as a child.
It was a mark of her vulnerability, confirming my need to be here.
“Why would I do that?” I beamed rotely, knowing we were being captured on film.
“I’ve been calling you for days to confirm you were coming. I thought your lil’ wife shut it down, forgetting we had history before her that wasn’t sexual.”
Before turning to the photog, my grin didn’t falter when I warned, “Be careful. Your fangs aren’t as attractive as your lips.”
Her grip on my back loosened. It was a locution I knew she was familiar with. My father often used it to temper his lovers when infighting. It meant being quiet, for a woman, was more attractive to him than the one who was combative or overly-complained. For Earl Ellis, a woman unnamed Irene with too much mouth didn’t get fed his spoils.
I may not have been my father with multiple lovers, but I’d been generous with Tiffany for this event. I’d played nice and made a beeline on the way to the airport to satisfy her request of me attending tonight. I had other reasons, but as far as she was concerned, my father was down, and I understood her inherent need for support when she didn’t have much family to speak of. I was aware of what having the Ellis brand represented at her affair meant for her marketing value.
It had been a tough call to make when I’d received a text from her assistant with the question. Not only had I hired extra security for this trip to Atlanta, thanks to the bullshit with Popov, but I had to pay my flight crew overtime for this pit stop. What made the decision easy was the message I received from Tiffany’s security. So, I was able to kill two birds with one stone.
“I know Rory said you have a flight to catch.” Tiff turned to me once we’d satisfied the press junket. “Please stay longer,” she begged.
I shot her a wink dropping my hand from the small of her back and took her at the hand. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The doors were opened when we arrived at the entrance. Rory had been waiting just inside, her big ass eyes scouring all over.
“This way,” she tossed her head and led the way inside.
Simultaneously, Tiffany was being pulled in a different direction. Our hands slipped apart with natural ease, and just as a sea of bodies was being parted for me by Johnson and Rory, Jamil was at my shoulder and J-Dot was behind me. Jamil refused to sit this one out and even requested J-Dot’s escort. He hadn’t forgotten the shooting here that could have ended my family before it began.
We ended up in a secluded seated area again, this time one closer to the emergency exit.
After I sat on a velvet bench, Rory stopped in front of me with her arm to her chest as she peered into her watch. “The subject’s here. Timer’s on…now.” She nodded and stepped off.
My eyes scanned the club, recounting the magnetic atmosphere. A waitress entered the section, asking to take our order. The men shared their desires, which were bottles of champagne, and Rory ordered me a bottle of Mauve, none of which we had time to consume. It would just be a four-thousand-dollar tab for bottles that would be reused on patrons once we left.
Less than five minutes later, the drinks arrived. Just as my brandy was poured into a tulip glass, a hiked volume of voices at the opening of the section caught my attention. I craned my neck to peer around the waitress’ hyper-extended ass. Squinting, I caught a familiar face Rory was giving love to, shoulder-to-shoulder. I left the bench and sauntered over to the railing to confirm my assumption.
“LeRoy?” I shouted over the music.
The lanky frame, draped in expensive ass Italian garb too festive for my modest taste, gaze reached mine.
“I just told Rory I didn’t know your light-skinned, pretty ass would be here,” he beamed with implanted high cheeks and an old-fashioned good spirit.
“Just supporting fam.” I offered with a nod. “The hell you doing here?”
“Scratch’s here,” he shouted.
My head traveled toward the deejay both across the vast room and found D.J. Scratch elevated in a glass encasement with headphones halfway on as he bobbed hard to the beat.
“Keeping it in the family, I see,” I noted when he moved close enough to shake my hand over the rail.
“Raj thought it would be nice, seeing the deal you two just entered into,” he clarified.
That s
truck me particularly. I’d never disclosed my relationship with Tiffany to R&B and Hollywood phenomenon, Ragee. He’d recently become a business ally because of the community land trust agreement. I guessed Mr. McKinnon had done his research. And that would confirm the research my team had done on his passion for the upward mobility of the community.
I nodded. “How’s my guy?” I tossed my chin toward him.
LeRoy, the widely known flamboyant best friend of Ragee, rolled his eyes dramatically. “In fucking love.” His head rounded, only the whites of his eyes could be seen. “They’re in ‘common’ Dubai. Too commercial for my taste, but they’d been inviting him for years on their dime for patriotic claims.” His head shook, cheeks hiked, and eyes rolled dismissively again. “But Raj being…” He nodded. “Raj. He’s declined until his recent wife expressed interest, and bam! They’re there.” LeRoy shrugged.
Moved by the notion, I added, “I can appreciate newlywed bliss. I’m happy for my man.”
“Oh, me, too.” He shrugged with the rolling of the eyes again. “I would prefer more exclusivity like Marye Island, St. Justin, or Karsyn Cove. Hell, even Mt. Kamryn hasn’t been over-populated by the commoners. That’s where I’d go if I had the millions he did.”
His attention was captured by a dame with a short, tapered haircut and a devilishly low cut, purple leather tube top. The combination was eerily seductive to me. My dick leaped in my pants as my mind reeled. There was an imbalance, however. The two not connecting.
LeRoy’s arched brows lifted in delight at her. In response, she turned her back to him and faced me. Dazed, my head pushed back.
“You got something for me to sip on up there?”
I paid her a long gaze before I tossed my chin over to Rory to let her up.