I sucked my teeth. “Mekhi’s not my daddy, Steel.”
“Farrah—”
“You coming in or not?” I interrupted him.
Narrowing his eyes, he glared at me for a minute before he approached the valet stand. I smiled triumphantly. Mekhi Venzant had been exerting too much control over my life, and it was time I got some of it back.
Riah and I started to walk toward the back of the long line when I heard Steel mutter, “Hell, no.”
“What?” I asked, turning toward him.
“Follow me.”
Riah and I looked at each other before doing what he said. Two minutes later, after he had a quick discussion with the men guarding the door, we were in. Steel ushered us toward the upper level where he talked with someone else before guiding us to one of the few empty tables on this level. I looked up at him in surprise.
“Steel, how much is this? You can’t?—”
“It’s covered,” he cut me off as a bottle girl approached to take our orders.
“What’s the most expensive thing you got?” Riah asked her.
“Mariah!”
She shrugged. “What? He said it’s covered!”
“Can we get a bottle of Rémy Martin XO?” I requested, before turning to Steel. “You want anything?”
“I don’t drink on the clock, shorty.”
Oh well, I thought.I offered. Ten minutes later, we were sipping the smooth cognac as the sounds of someone whining about his lost love trickled from the speakers. I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath.
“I needed this,” I said.
“You should’ve said something sooner.”
Riah ran a hand over her already smooth bob as she spoke. She looked beautiful tonight in her off the shoulder, light blue mini-romper that hugged her slim curves. It was a different look for her—she was usually shy and conservative—but it worked.
“You look good, girl,” I complimented her.
She beamed at me. “So do you. yellow should be your signature color, I swear.”
I looked down at the one-shoulder, bright yellow jumpsuit I wore. It fit me closely before flowing into wide legs. I had accessorized with wooden jewelry and had experimented until I had a natural makeup look that I loved. I felt good and it showed. Two drinks later, the music had picked up tempo and Riah and I were ready to dance. I bounced as she rapped all the words to a couple of songs. Steel stood close to our table, but that didn’t stop a few niggas from sending us appreciative looks. Mariah and I smiled right back as the music changed and Megan Thee Stallion poured from the speakers.
I glanced again at Steel’s unsmiling face and decided to approach him. With my glass in my hand, I danced my way in front of him. He looked at me for a moment before his eyes went back to scanning the room.
“Are you always on duty?” I asked him, loud over the music.
“When I’m paid to be,” was his short reply.
“Do you have to be so serious all the time?”
“Farrah—”
“I’m just saying! We’re in a club. Have a little fun!”
He shook his head. “Nah. I got caught off guard once with you at the store. It’s not happening again.”
“We both know that was my fault?—”
