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Didn’t mean I had to like it.
“I respect your relationship,” I gritted out the lie.
She pursed her lips. “Do you?”
I laughed, low and humorless. “Barely.”
“Exactly. So don’t stand here looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
She took a step closer to me and looked up, her eyes tangling with mine.
“Like you forgot I’m somebody’s woman.”
That pissed me the fuck off. I wasn’t mad because she said it. I was mad because it was true, and I couldn’t… wouldn’t do a damn thing about it. Topaz had to come to me freely, or she’d never stay. I knew that.
I hated that.
“For now,” I muttered.
Her eyes narrowed. “What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“Saadiq.”
I rubbed a hand down my beard. “Go home, Topaz.”
“I need to make sure—”
“I said go home.” My tone was enough to stop her. “I’ll apologize to Shenay and Lori. I’ll call Bria. I’ll deal with Zoë. I’ll show up to dinner and act like I got some sense.”
A slight curve graced those pretty lips. That tiny almost-smile did something stupid to me.
“And you gon’ stop making people cry?” she asked.
“I’ma try.”
“No. You’ll stop.”
I nodded. “I’ll stop.”
She studied me like she didn’t fully believe it, which was fair, mood I was in. Then she walked over to my desk, rearranged some stuff, and picked up the Apple Pencil I had been looking for all morning. She held it out to me. I took it from her, my fingers brushing hers. It was just a little contact, barely anything. Still, her breath caught. It was softly enough that anybody else might’ve missed it. I didn’t. She looked down for a minute, gathered herself before lifting her pretty face again.
“And just so you know, I’m taking the whole weekend off,” she said, her eyes peering into mine defiantly.
“Paz—” I began, the coming protest evident in my tone.
“Boundaries, Mr. Masters. We’ve discussed them before. I’m drawing them now,” she interrupted.
My eyes narrowed, but finally, I nodded once. She touched my shoulder.
“You gon’ survive the Hayashis. You’ve survived much worse.”
Her tone was softer, teasing. I didn't really need the reminder. I knew exactly who I was: the son of a working-class, dedicated single father who started out in the streets, somehow dodged the statistics, and learned a lot about making money grow along the way. I was exceptionally skilled at getting people to trust me with theirs, and I made it work for them just like I promised. Technically, Topaz was a bonus to my empire, not a necessity, but it didn’t feel that way.
“I’m looking forward to a night of messed up manicures with Sanaa, a ridiculously lazy Saturday, and brunch with my cousin on Sunday,” she announced.
