“And we wonder why she is the way she is,” AJ teased.
“You got a lotta nerve!” I quipped, pointing a forkful of mashed potatoes in his direction. “You gon’ sit here in front of the family and act like you didn’t put that boy in the hospital back in ‘03?!”
“Man, hold up! That was completely justified!”
“Hospital?!” Kadence asked as she looked at him in pure shock.
“That was an accident. I mean yeah, I beat him up, but it wasn’t supposed to go that far. He stumbled off and ran headfirst into some lockers, trying to get away from me.”
“I come from a whole family full of crash-outs!” Amir waved his hands dramatically. I rolled my eyes at him. The only reason he never had to fight wasbecausehe came from a family of crash-outs. His slick ass mouth had us beating people up on his behalf since he was able to string together a sentence.
“No, back to this hospital story,” Kadence said, hands under her chin as she eyed him curiously. “Daddy, why would you do that?”
“Because he put his hands on my sister,” he snarled. Another reason why I could never tell my family what really happened between me and Malcom. They could call me the crazy one all they wanted, but it ran through the Lewis blood, and my mama’s family was a whole different beast. I wasn’t the worst by far; I was just the quickest one to set it off.
“He touched my butt,” I said, winking at Kadence and giving her the ammo to turn and stare down her father.
“Gottdammit,” he mumbled under his breath as he reached into his pocket and handed Kadence her phone.
She and I slapped hands under the table as we continued eating.
Maybe Cali wasn’tsobad…
“Girl, this isnice,” Joce sang as she grabbed another cocktailfrom a waitress passing by, damn near drinking the whole thing in one gulp.
“Joce, we are networking. I swear if you get drunk, I’m leaving your ass here,” I scolded, knowing I was lying. We were back on the West Coast and had snagged an invite to an exclusive brunch for black women. In the short time we had been there, we had met everyone from Senators to celebs and social media influencers. I knew Joce wouldn’t purposely do anything to tarnish the brand, but I also knew her ass was still a little green. At the age of twenty-six, she hadjuststarted drinking… and fucking… and living for herself. Her parents kept her sheltered as a kid, and when she got older, they tried everything in their power to control every aspect of her life and turn her into the perfect trophy wife. After she graduated college, she decided enough was enough and finally started going through life on her own terms. I wanted her to enjoy herself but still remember that we were out here on Kyle, Roy, & Associates dime.
“I swear, I won’t,” she promised as she took her drink to the head. I laughed, rolled my eyes, then turned back to speak to my new friend. Money Mani was a female rapper that I could easily see becoming one of the GOATS. She had crazytalent and was cool as hell, she just needed better handlers because it was painfully obvious that her label had been playing in her face.
“Is she good?” She laughed, flipping her ash-blonde buss-down over her shoulder as she looked back and forth between me and Joce.
“She’s fine, she just doesn’t get out much.”
“Oh, okay,” Mani said with a nod before returning to our previous conversation. We were having such a good time, and I had met so many potential new clients, all while managing to keep Joce on a leash.
“So, you’ve been out here for how long?” she asked, sipping on her nonalcoholic drink. She was a wild child, like me, only all her antics were done with a completely sober head—that thought scared me a bit, because she had been into somewildshit.
“Two months on and off,” I shrugged. I had usually been spending Monday through Thursday in L.A. and a three-day weekend at home. This was my first weekend staying in Cali, but it wouldn’t be my last because it was kind of a vibe. We were also set to start the trial in a few days, so I know it might be a bit more difficult to commute every week.
“Okay, so what’s tea? You met any niggas out here?” she inquired, wiggling her brows at me.
“Girl no, I been working so the only niggas I’ve seen are the ones with court dates, and that’s gonna be a no for me. I’m not against it, though. I would love to meet somebody cool that I can kick it with when I’m here.” I shrugged. It would have to be something casual, because I lived halfway across the country, had no plans of relocating, and didn’t want anything beyond some good sex and head.
“So, what type of men do you like? Maybe I can find someone to hook you up with,” she teased with her brows raised.
“No rappers!” I laughed. I knew enough to know that was not my ministry. “Other than that, I’m not too picky. Just somebody that can keep up with me.”
“Wellmycelebrity crush is Mr. President himself! That man issodamn fine. I would risk it all just for one night with him,” Mani said with her tongue stuck out. She wasn’t wrong, I had just watched a press conference that morning that could have doubled as a porno. Hehadto know that the way he licked those lips and rubbed his hand over his beard when he was in deep thought was enough to have beans being flicked throughout the nation.
“Girl, I’msureyou’re not the only one. Unfortunately for us, he’s taken,” I laughed.
“Nah, that lady don’t even seem like his type. He needs something with a little more edge.” Her tongue was back out, making me laugh. Once again, I agreed with her, he seemed like he needed someone who could challenge him, I just didn’t know if he would go as far as to pick an entertainer.
“There’s that bitch right there!” I heard from behind me, noteven turning around because it wasn’t my business—except I quickly found out that itwasmy business when a finger tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around to find none other than Chanel King standing behind me. She was just as gorgeous in person as she was on tv with her smooth, blemish free, caramel colored skin, big brown eyes and head full of wavy, bronze hair. I knew for a fact that she had gone under the knife, but she had a good surgeon because her body was tea. None of those mental compliments helped the fact that she stood there frowning at me like I snatched the last jar of pickles from her in the grocery store.
“Um… can I help you?” I stepped forward, not letting the fact that she called me out of my name slide even a little bit. If she wanted it, I had it, professionalism be damned.
“No, you absolutely can’t,” she said, looking me up and down in disgust. “You know… I would expect this from someone else, but as a fellow Black Woman, you foul asfuckfor what you doing.”
