She snatched her phone away from me while smacking her lips. “Yeah, this bitch been walking around with my face. Damn shame.”
“Where she stay at?”
“Jersey. She’s real lowkey.”
I cupped Jazzlyn’s face in my hands before pecking her lips. “Tell me how you really feel about this.”
“She’s the one who got away. She didn’t get to endure as much as PJ and I did. She lived this happy-go-lucky life while me and PJ struggled. She was a baby in the midst of all that, but as a full-grown adult, to come after anything that was left behind just shows me the kind of person I’m dealing with. She doesn’t deserve shit, and I’m gonna make sure she don’t get shit.”
“You don’t wanna get to know her? She’s your sister, Lovey.”
She shot me a menacing glare before removing my hands from her face. “We lived totally different lives. I can’t blame her for that, but as far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t fucking exist.”
I let out a deep sigh. Once Jazzlyn felt how she felt, there was no convincing her otherwise. She was hurt, and no matter how long ago the trauma in her childhood was, it still fucked with her.
“Alright. Whatever you decide to do, I support you.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s nothing when it comes to you. I love you, Lovey.”
“Love you too.”
Chapter Sixteen
JAZZLYN
The energyin the atmosphere was exhilarating. Everyone was dressed in all white and looked like they stepped right into the gates of Heaven. There was no event in the city topping the white party, and based on how many people came out, everyone knew that shit. As everyone was enjoying themselves, I worked the party, making sure shit was in order.
My husband always tried convincing me to get an assistant, but I couldn’t easily trust people. Only I knew how to execute my vision exactly how I wanted it, so it was up to me to make it happen.
My event planners had the club decked out with hanging chandeliers, massive balloon arches, and they even had the furniture reupholstered in white. It looked like pure luxury, and it fit the theme perfectly: The White Luxe Affair.
“I need three bottles of Casa going up to section six,” I spoke into my radio.
“I got you, boss,” Sierra, one of my bottle girls, assured.
Within just a few minutes, sparklers lit up the room, and my girls were carrying a lit-up sign to section six. Across the room, my brother winked at me from the section and set his hand over his heart, appreciating the kind gesture of sending some bottleshis way. Priest, J’Ru, and Kaymen decided to pop out and show love. It was a big surprise since they never really went out. Clubs weren’t their thing. They would’ve much rather been at each other’s houses, watching the game and smoking the fat blunts they rolled.
Tonight, though, they made an exception, leaving their wives at home and showing face at the white party. The energy they possessed was damn near suffocating. Bitches’ jaws were dropped as they cut through the crowd like Moses when he parted the Red Sea. I kept my eyes on them as bitches threw themselves at them, but they remained solid and didn’t give any of them hoes the time of day.
The section next to theirs was for Ahkeem and his crew. Priest wasn’t a friendly-ass nigga, and neither were J’Ru and Kaymen, so I knew better than to try to combine their sections. They were separated; however, they were all catching a vibe together.
Moments later, the room lit up with sparklers again as bottles floated to Ahk’s section. With him were Jersey, Moe, Javi, Zylynn, Diamond, and that damn Amina. This girl was like a thorn in my damn side, but for the sake of tonight being so big for me, I was gonna let it ride. She was pushing it by squeezing herself right between Ahk and Diamond, but Ahkeem quickly fixed that by swapping seats with Jersey.
Once the bottles were delivered to his section, I watched as he scanned the room in search of me. He pinpointed me quickly and used his finger to call me over. I chuckled and skipped right over to my man. I navigated the crowd with ease. People got out of my way once they noticed who I was.
He didn’t waste any time wrapping his strong arm around me. His Bond No. 9 cologne filled my nostrils, serving as the best stress reliever to calm my nervous system since I’d been on edge all day while trying to ensure everything was perfect.
“You doing that dress fucking well, Mrs. Hendrix.” He cupped my ass with both hands.
The Cult Gaia cut out white dress that I had tailored to fit me like a glove was a showstopper. It cupped my breasts perfectly, showed off my toned midriff that I worked so hard for, and it had a high slit up the thigh. I had to put two extra layers of wardrobe tape on the seam of the slit just so no one would see I wasn’t wearing any panties. It was risqué, but that was the usual for me when it came to my fashion sense.
On my husband’s dime, I got my hair blown out with extra layers and big bouncy curls. There was no half stepping, so I even had paid Zylynn to do my makeup. I looked like I was peeled right off the cover of a magazine. I was sure if I talked to Britain about it enough, I probably could’ve been on the cover ofLa Gioia.That was how damn good I looked!
“Thank you, Pa. You look handsome as fuck in this all white.” He was dripped out in an all-white Marni linen pant set. His feet were adorned in a pair of white Air Force 1s. He had his diamond-drenched Cuban link around his neck and his Audemars Piguet watch snug on his wrist. My husband was fucking walking temptation. His chocolate brown skin made my mouth water, and his sharp jawline always had my panties wet. Bitches were praying every day that I fumbled him so they could have their chance, but I was never coming off him.
He craned down and pressed his lips onto mine. He gave my ass a good squeeze, and I giggled.
