The Prada Plan 5

by Ashley Antoinette

  “Who was that on the phone?”

  Indie was taken off guard by the sound of YaYa’s voice, and he immediately ended the call.

  She frowned.

  “Just business,” Indie replied. He could see her hesitation. They both knew that he had just spoken a lie, and he instantly regretted it. He should have told her the truth. He should have admitted that there were things unresolved with Parker. She knew that King could potentially be his, but Indie didn’t want to pop the newlywed bubble they dwelled in. Instead he had poked a tiny hole in it.

  With one single lie, the look in her eyes had changed. The confidence in her stance had diminished, and defensiveness had taken over her body. He knew that this was the reality that she had feared. It was easy to love one another in seclusion. It was instinct to be good to one another in the middle of nowhere, where only sunsets and sunrises distracted from the flow of love. Returning to New York as man and wife would test them. It would test their relationship like nothing had ever before. Indie told himself that he was lying to YaYa to protect her.

  “Business?” she shot back skeptically. She then shook her head incredulously. She wanted to ask to see his phone, but her pride wouldn’t allow her to confront the obvious. “Okay, Indie,” she said before walking out of the room.

  Indie wasn’t this type of man. He wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t the type to manipulate his way through life, spreading chaos and insecurity. He knew he had to grab the reins in his family and resolve this once and for all before things spiraled out of control.

  Morning came too quickly. YaYa tossed and turned until the sun snuck up. This wasn’t how marriage was supposed to be. It was supposed to make everything better. It was supposed to fix what was broken between them, strengthen them. Right? YaYa’s head spun as she tossed the covers from her body and stood. She looked over at a sleeping Indie and felt like she didn’t even recognize him, and suddenly this entire thing felt like a mistake. Nothing was resolved between them. She had slept with Ethic, and Indie had left her for Parker. That couldn’t be swept under the rug. It couldn’t be dismissed just because they had gotten married on a whim, especially with Indie sneaking off to take secret phone calls in the middle of the night.

  Everything in YaYa’s life from childhood until now had been dramatic. She had endured big problems; she had dealt with stalkers and murders, and hustling and deception. Now that life had settled for her, she realized that it was the little things that were the hardest to deal with. YaYa wasn’t used to these types of problems. These were grown-woman problems, and she had no idea what do about her own life. The absence of trust in Indie meant the presence of pain, and she felt every bit of it.

  YaYa walked out of the room and peeked into Skylar’s bedroom before going into the kitchen. As she moved around it, playing wife, playing Mom, wearing the roles with expertise while preparing breakfast, she wondered why the routine felt so foreign.

  It wasn’t long before the smell of bacon and eggs awoke the entire house. When she felt Indie’s arm wrap around her waist as she flipped the pancakes on the stove, she sighed.

  “I wish I could stay and eat, but I’ve got to get out of here. Zya’s coming to the city today,” Indie said. “There’s a board meeting at Vartex this morning. I need to move some pieces around before I meet with her later this evening.”

  “Is that who called you last night?” she asked.

  Indie hesitated, thrown off by her question, but quickly recovered. “Yeah. It was just business. I’ll call you later, a’ight?”

  She nodded, but didn’t turn to him. YaYa wanted to accept his word as truth. She couldn’t live with this knot in her stomach every day. The unrelenting suspicion would drive her crazy, and she decided then and there to just trust him. You can’t go off of a notion. Leave the past in the past. You have to trust him until he shows you otherwise, she thought. It took all that self-coaching for her to simply answer, “Okay.”

  When Indie walked out the door in his suit and tie, she exhaled in relief. They hadn’t even been married a week, and YaYa was already lost. It was days like these that she wished she had a mother to turn to. YaYa had figured out everything on her own, from bra sizes to menstrual cycles. It was one of the reasons why she had accepted Indie’s proposal in the first place. She didn’t want her daughter to come up without both parents. When Skylar needed her father, YaYa wanted Indie to be there, not laid up across town with Parker and her son. YaYa felt like she was in a race for Indie’s heart, and Parker had been her opponent. Now that YaYa had won, she questioned if there was actually a prize to behold after all. Even with the flawless diamond that rested on her left hand, her position in Indie’s life felt threatened. YaYa was on the defensive, and she would be until they all sat down face-to-face to settle this once and for all.

  2

  The view of New York City from the top floor of Vartex Pharmaceuticals made Indie feel like he was on top of the world. He had pushed many illegal drugs through these boroughs, and he had never predicted that all his years of hustling would lead him here. He had transcended the struggle and achieved the impossible … he had retired from the coke game. With Zya as a silent backer, Indie was about to come into the type of money that would set his family up for generations to come. He was like a chameleon. The designer suit he wore allowed him to blend in at an executive level. He spoke their language, related to their politics; he could even swing a decent eighteen holes on the golf course. They assumed he was the product of some six-figure education, some establishment of higher learning, when he was bred in the streets. He had learned all he needed to know about business hand over fist, and now he was taking over corporate America. He could run the streets in his sleep, so handling old white men with long money was a walk in the park. If only life at home was so easy, he thought.

  “Mr. Perkins, they’re ready for you,” his assistant, Emma, said as she stuck her head through the cracked door. Indie nodded and tightened the knot on his silk tie before walking toward the conference room.

  * * *

  “Glad you could make it,” Jefferson said. Alec Jefferson was the chief financial officer at Vartex who had detested Indie’s involvement with the company from day one. “What exactly are we here for? My schedule is pretty tight today.”

  “I can loosen that schedule a bit,” Indie said as he unbuttoned his jacket to make himself more comfortable and took a seat at the head of the table. It was common knowledge that he was a majority shareholder with the company. He held sway over whether Jefferson maintained his position at the top. “Perhaps CFO is a bit demanding. We can discuss other options if you’d like,” Indie stated.

  Alec cleared his throat as he nervously tapped a pen against the table. “After one of the most profitable quarters of the company’s history, I think you would agree that things are fine as they are. The numbers are in the black.”

  “Then just make a bit of time on that schedule, and they can remain that way,” Indie said, no smiles, no chuckles. He didn’t need to disguise ill intent behind the façade of laughter. He meant what he said, and he pulled no punches when delivering a message. Alec Jefferson would respect him, or Indie would put the motion on the table to replace him. Indie had secured the vote of the majority way before he ever stepped foot inside Vartex so that things would run smoothly for him. Alec didn’t want to test him.

  “Of course,” Alec replied.

  “Now,” Indie said as he looked around the rectangular table at the rest of the board members. “I think we need to rethink the distribution company we’ve recently contracted with.” Indie looked at the contract he had made with Ethic’s company and immediately felt anger pulse through him. There was no way he was going to partner with Ethic to distribute product. Too many lines had been crossed. Despite the fact that he was doing his dirt, YaYa was his wife, and he could never be in business with a man whom she had been intimate with. He and Ethic had come together under extreme circumstances to save her life, but even then, Indie had
wanted to body something. It would be a war of titans the next time he and Ethic crossed paths. Only reason he was even giving him a pass was out of respect for Zya, but there was no way he was going to eat with Ethic. A man that would sleep with his woman was a man that would slit his throat. This was one enemy that Indie wouldn’t keep close.

  “This is the same company you advocated for. Why would we terminate the contract now?” Alec asked.

  Indie knew the company would have reservations. Ethic had given Vartex a good price way below market value in order to secure the deal in the first place.

  “The insurance minimums weren’t met, so I’ve had my assistant pull up some alternative options. I’ll leave these here for your review. I’ve had Emma notate my suggestions. Once the board takes a vote, we can move forward as planned,” Indie directed. Emma walked around the room and passed the paperwork as Indie stood.

  “And what about the old distributor? What if he contests the termination of the contract?” Alec asked, utterly confused.

  “He won’t contest,” Indie said assertively before walking out of the room.

  * * *

  The face he saw when he marched back into his office only intensified the anger he had been trying to contain. She sucked all the air out of the room. Her YSL perfume was like venom to him. He didn’t want to get too close. She had burned him before; it wasn’t a lesson that needed learning twice. He closed his office door but didn’t move toward her. Her normally curly hair was straightened, and the nude-colored pantsuit she wore was straight off a runway. She didn’t usually try this hard. He could tell she had put extra effort into how she looked. Her usually carefree, earthy vibe was nonexistent as she stood in front of him, flawlessly displayed. He appreciated the aesthetic, but she could have shown up in burlap bags and he would have found her equally exquisite. It was her soul that pulled Indie in, and as he saw the pained look in her smoky eyes, he knew she was filled with remorse. He knew it before she even said it, but still it fell from her lips. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “I married YaYa,” Indie said. It was like he was throwing it out there as a shield. Something had to protect him from her. With her he always felt so naked, so transparent. She recoiled at the news, visibly injured by his admission.

  “What?” she asked. “You don’t love her.”

  “I love the shit out of her,” Indie told her. “From the first time I laid eyes on her. I let you distract me from that when you first came back, but YaYa has been here. You left. When you should have stayed, you dipped. She’s been solid. She’s not running, Parker.”

  She placed a manicured hand on her stomach. She was sick. The way Indie spoke about another woman with such conviction and passion, it crippled her. Parker had to grip the edge of his desk to keep on her feet.

  “The problem is I never had the chance to stop loving you. You disappeared from my life, then you pop back up with King, but you come with a bag full of lies. You shake up my whole shit, and then you come in here like it’s sweet between us,” Indie barked.

  “I’m wrong. I know that I’m wrong! I’ve made mistakes, but being with you … reuniting with you felt right, Indie. Nanzi’s dead. I didn’t want to break your heart by bringing up old ghosts. I just wanted to have what we planned to have all along. I wanted that for my son,” Parker cried. She wasn’t so flawless now. She was unraveling in front of him.

  “I told you. King will be provided for,” Indie stated.

  “I don’t need you to provide for him! I do that! I’ve been doing that! He needs a father. He needs you,” Parker said, her voice softer now. “I need you. You’re mad. I get that, I deserve it. But you can’t just write me off like you don’t feel what I feel, Indie. How can you just go off and marry that girl without first working through what we left behind? All of this history between us…” She paused in exasperation as she blew out a sharp breath. “It means something. I can’t move on, Indie, and no matter how much you pretend to, you can’t move on either.”

  Indie’s heart was heavy because he was a man in love with two women, but he had made a vow only to one, and it was her he must honor. “We can’t get time back, Parker. You coming in here dredging up the past only fuck up the present…”

  “But you feel something?” she asked, hopeful.

  “I’ll always feel something,” Indie admitted as he opened the door to his office, indicating that it was time for her to leave. “But our time is over, Parker. It has passed, and the sooner you accept that fact, the better off you’ll be.”

  Parker reached into her bag and pulled out a small box. She stormed toward him, stopping directly in front of him before shoving it into his chest.

  “King’s DNA sample is waiting at this lab. You swab yourself and send it out. Even if King isn’t your son, he loves you, and I don’t have the heart to tell him the truth. You have to forgive me one day, Indie, and when you finally admit to yourself that YaYa isn’t the one, I’ll be here,” Parker said as she wiped her eyes, composing herself before she walked out. She was like a storm passing in and out of his life; natural in her occurrence, but devastating in her wake. Indie was always left with much to repair after she had gone, and this time was no different.

  * * *

  Indie flipped the collar of his cashmere coat up as he rubbed his hands together, generating heat as he leaned over the rails of the Circle Line ferry. The autumn winds were crisp, and his breaths came out in white clouds as the boat cruised across the deep bay. He was the only passenger aboard, and the sounds of the gentle waves slapping the bottom of the boat soothed him as he stared ahead at the Statue of Liberty. It was odd. He had lived in New York most of his life and had never seen it. It was where tourists went, where the non-natives explored to feel connected to good old New York City. He scoffed as he shook his head. He could count on one hand how many of his homeboys had actually been there. It was a smoke monument that tricked the world into thinking New York was the greatest city on Earth. It was something big and shiny that people could capture in a picture to prove that they had braved the streets of New York. They had no idea what the real concrete jungle was like.

  Secluded from the real place—being aboard the ferry—felt worlds away. He was grateful for the brief respite. It had been a hell of a day, and he was struggling with the decision to tell YaYa about Parker’s visit. He had just gotten YaYa back, barely. He knew her like the back of his hand, and although she was his now, he wasn’t blind to the fact that she had fallen for Ethic. But he wasn’t going to lose her again.

  The boat docked, and Indie walked off before heading up to the monument. He immediately spotted Zya. She was hard to miss. She was just one of those women who shined bright even when she wasn’t trying. Her hair blew in the wind as she stood in her trench coat, with a checkered Burberry scarf tied tightly around her neck. She wore sunglasses, even at night, so only her delicate lips and high cheekbones could be seen. The helicopter that had flown her there waited behind her, and she was accompanied by an armed man who stood a few feet behind her, waiting for an excuse to pop off. Indie was always enamored of her. She was a queen and she wore her crown beautifully, but like the sun, Zya would burn anyone who got too close.

  “You’re late,” she said, as she turned toward him with a smile so white that it blinded him. “Early is on time, on time is late,” Zya schooled.

  Indie smirked. “You’ve been good?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I have. How’s the family?”

  “They’re good. We’re solid,” Indie replied vaguely.

  “Congratulations on the wedding,” Zya said. He didn’t ask her how she knew. He didn’t doubt her reach. Zya probably knew every detail about each person she was in business with. “I guess YaYa won’t be coming back to the game anytime soon now that she’s somebody’s wife.”

  Indie shook his head and smiled. “Nah, she’s retired. I know if you had your way you would run the streets with an army of goons in stilettos and short skirts. That ain’t fo
r her, though.”

  Zya raised her hands in defense. “A’ight, I hear you.” She switched gears effortlessly as she said, “Tell me about your decision to change distributors. You know it isn’t the smartest move at this point.”

  “I live my life a certain way. I follow a certain code. I can’t break bread with niggas who move differently than me,” Indie said honestly.

  “And that’s Ethic?” Zya asked, perplexed. “I have to be frank here: I know Ethic. I vouch for him the same way I vouch for you, and I don’t put my reputation on the line for just anyone. I put this play together because I had the right players. This thing doesn’t run smoothly without him.”

  “Then it’ll have to run without me,” Indie stated.

  “This setup is worth millions, Indie. I’ve put you in a position to make a lot of money. He was a part of the deal. Ethic makes this thing run smoothly without error. What could have gotten between the two of you that’s worth that?” Zya asked. Almost as soon as she said it, the realization hit her.

  YaYa? she thought. Zya wouldn’t speak her assumption aloud out of respect, but Indie could tell by the look in her eyes that she knew. Indie and YaYa were like those fated souls who were tumultuous together, but apart they made no sense. They existed to love one another, despite the fact that the universe constantly pulled them apart. Zya could see how YaYa had gotten caught between both men. She was a beautiful girl. It was every made man’s dream to have a woman like her. What a torturously satisfying triangle it must have been. YaYa wasn’t the first and certainly wouldn’t be the last woman to divide great men. She had turned allies into enemies, and now the hustle that had been carefully thought out had become complicated. Yes, Ethic had crossed a line, but Zya understood. YaYa was a beautiful girl, and Ethic had a thing for the vulnerable type. She looked at Indie with empathy.