Page 140 of The Need to Know

I heaved a sigh and spun around in my chair, ignoring what Sloan was saying as I spotted Cesar joining us. He didn’t approach the desk, but simply sat at the chaise along the back wall.

The door opened again, Gucci once more sneaking into the soundproof office. This time, it was Knox coming in to interrupt my business meeting. He stopped a few feet from Cease and a few from where Sloan sat before my desk.

“There’s a guy in the Diamond Suite actin’ up. Loud. Aggressive. He’s spendin’ money and I think he might play for the Falcons, but it’s causing a disturbance,” Knox said as he gestured out toward the hall.

I was in the middle of a meeting and he was stopping me for this?

My attitude had taken a turn, and these days I had no patience for bullshit. One look was all that was needed to get Knox out the door to handle his fucking job.

I tore my gaze from his retreating figure and returned to Sloan. The pity in his hazel eyes aggravated me more, but I let it go. “You were saying?”

Sloan cleared his throat, licking his lips and peeking back at Cesar before returning to me. Pops told me about the club in New York on Sunday. I called Sloan Wednesday to come down to BLVCKJVCK so we could talk about a new project together. I wasn’t in the best frame of mind, but the show had to go on. The fact that he was here told me all that I needed to know about his stance on business.

Sloan rubbed at his jaw. “E, man, I hear you. I love New York. This would be the highlight of my career.”

I sat back in my seat and lifted my attention to the ceiling. “I love ass. However, I don’t like buts, and why do I think I hear one coming up?”

Sloan took a moment to sigh and collect himself. “I’ve never designed a club before. I love the challenge of putting together PVWN for you.”

“So what’s the problem?”

We were beating around the bush. He knew as well as I did what the issue was.

It wasn’t a breakup. But fuck did it feel like one.

We fought on Sunday and the club wasn’t even open a full minute before I got a curt text from Paisley.

Paisley

You’re a bum ass bitch!

Very short and blunt, to the point. Going to Sloan for help on this new club was risky. He was her people, not mine. But I’d meant what I said when I preferred to work in-house than out. I was a young Black entrepreneur and he was an up-and-coming Black architect. It was a win for the both of us—should his lady not get in the way.

I brought my focus back to Sloan, to look him in the eye as he told me what I needed to know.

“This is good for my portfolio,” Sloan said in the end. “I’ll agree to do it, but if P says she doesn’t want me on the job, then I’m out.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “She won’t stop your bag. She’ll just hate me a little more.”

Sloan grimaced, because there was no denying she was in his ear talking shit about me already. I didn’t know Paisley that well. She could tell him to turn me down, but she could also just be extra pissed at me.

Time would tell, for now, I’d secured my designer for PVWN. I’d already made plans to book a flight to New York to browse potential buildings or lots.

Sloan leaned over and held his hand out. “I appreciate you offering me this opportunity, man. I’m honored.”

I reached out and shook with him. “To Black business.”

“To Black business.” Sloan shook my hand and soon stood up. “I know it’s a fun theme you got goin’ here tonight, but if you’ll excuse me, I got someone waitin’ on me.”

I relaxed back into my chair. “Tell her no hard feelings.”

Sloan’s mouth twisted into a sneer as he lifted his hand and flipped me the finger. “She’d want me to give you this.”

Of course Paisley would.

Sloan slipped out of the office, this time allowing the sounds of 21 Savage to enter the room.

Cesar was remarkably quiet the whole exchange. Finding him watching me in that silent way he’d become accustomed to post fight wasn’t a surprise.