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“You still want to go get something to eat?” he asked once we both finished cleaning ourselves off.
“Yes, come on,” I said, grabbing my purse and turning the lights off in my office.
I told my assistant Melanie that I was taking an hour break and that I would be back.
Chapter 23: Nae
My husband had been gone for two days already, and he didn’t even have the decency to call and check on me or our daughter. He did text me when he arrived to let me know that he had made it, and that was the last time that I had heard from him. I was going to fuckin show his ass better than I could tell him. I had just dropped off my daughter to my mom’s house, and I was getting ready to go out with Breesha and Mani. I took my wedding ring off and stuck it inside of my jewelry box. Since motha fuckas wanted to act like they were single and shit, I was about to do the same exact thing.
I was wearing a tee shirt dress from Cotton On, along with my brown moccasin boots. I was fuckin showing out tonight–no ring, and I had made sure I wore this dress so that the tattoo of my husband’s name on my right breast wasn’t showing. I was fuckin tired of playing with Sincere’s ass. He was supposed to be coming home tonight, and he was going to be real hurt when he walked in that house and saw that I wasn’t there waiting in the bed for him, like I usually was. Boy, I swear that’s not a good feeling at all! I had my hair flowing down my back, and I was the shit. I grabbed my purse off my dresser and I was out the door. I was going over to Breesha’s and Imani’s crib so we could go to South Beach for drinks.
The way I was feeling, I planned on getting fucked up tonight. Lord knows I needed something to handle the shit that I have been enduring lately with my marriage. It never used to be like this, though. I mean, don’t get me wrong, before Sin went to prison, he was hustling hard. But shit, I felt like he was home with me more then than he is now.
I pulled up to Imani and Breesha’s home ten minutes later and stepped out. I knew a night out with my cousins would make me feel a whole lot better.
I knocked on the door, and Imani came and answered it with the phone glued to her ear. She gave me a hug and continued to talk to whoever it was. I assumed it was Rashard, because I heard her telling him she was just going out with me and Breesha. He probably didn’t want her little ass to go with us. I smirked and headed upstairs to find Breesha.
“Hey cousin,” I said, walking over and sitting down on her bed. She looked me over and laughed.
“Bitch, you showing out tonight. And where the fuck is your ring?” she asked after she finished strapping up her heels.
“I took it off. Me and Sin been having problems lately,” I said.
“Okay Nae, every married couple have problems. But shit, you ain’t supposed to go around taking off your ring and shit just because y’all had a little disagreement,” Breesha preached.
“Okay Breesha damn, let’s go. I didn’t come over here to hear all that,” I said.
She sucked her teeth and we headed back downstairs. Imani was sitting at the table, dressed and ready to go as well. I’m guessing Rashard most have told her she could come with us. He swore up and down that we were turning Imani out when he was the one that turned her out the moment she opened up her legs for him. Imani was a whole different person now. I’m not going to lie, I liked this Imani better now, because she wasn’t as stuck up as she was before and she wasn’t so quick to turn down, like she used to be. The old Imani would not have gone with us tonight to South Beach. She would have stayed her ass in her room, studying or some shit.
Nae
My girls and I were walking the boardwalk on South Beach, each with a drink from Fat Tuesday in our hands. All of a sudden, I spotted this fine nigga standing in front of one of the restaurants and instantly our eyes locked. He was too damn fine for words. Normally, I liked my men with low cuts, but he was sporting long dreads that stopped at the middle of his back. They were so neat; it looked like he had just got them done. He was wearing a black and Red Ferrari shirt with a pair of black True’s hanging off his ass. On his feet was a pair of the black and red Jordan infrared 6’s. He had a gold chain dangling around his neck and a big face Rolex on his wrist that was on freeze.
When he smiled at me, I noticed that he had a deep dimple in his left cheek. He was about 6’3 and he weighed about 195 pounds. Shit, he was fuckin perfect with his perfect mahogany skin. We were getting ready to walk past him, and I had to make sure I put an extra strut in my walk.
“Let me holla at you for a minute, lil mama,” he said, leaving from the group of men that were surrounding him.
Breesha and Mani both gave me a crazy look, but I quickly dismissed it as I walked over to him to see what he was all about.
“I see the way you was looking at a nigga. What’s good with you?” he asked, licking his perfect, full lips.
“In order for you to know that I was looking, a nigga had to be looking at me,” I shot back.
He laughed and his teeth were so fuckin perfect. I knew I was playing a dangerous ass game, but he had a bitch intrigued to know what the fuck was going on with him.
Chapter 24: Sincere
I was on my way back home after being in Atlanta for the past 5 days. I know I told my wife that I was only supposed to be gone for two days, but things went different when we got there. My artists, Dem Boyz, were supposed to make an appearance at Club Magic City, but it ended up being switched to the following day, which is why we ended up staying a little longer. I had a limo waiting to pick me up from the airport, because I knew my wife’s ass wasn’t going to come get me, with her selfish ass.
When I got off my flight, I headed over to baggage claim to retrieve my Louis Vuitton luggage. After that, I went to the parking lot and my limo was already there waiting for me. I gave him the address to my home, and climbed in the back and leaned my head back. Not even five minutes later, my phone started ringing. I looked down and I noticed that it was my nigga Bo.
“What’s good nigga?” I answered the phone. I figured it had to be important, because this nigga wouldn’t be calling my phone at 11 o’clock at night.
“Sin, I’m out here on South Beach and I swear I seen somebody that look just like Nae. So I looked again and it’s your wife, dawg. She over here smiling all in some nigga face, man,” he told me.
“Can’t be my wife dawg. She ain’t fuckin crazy,” I hissed. Or was she?
“Nigga, she right here. I’m looking right at her talking to some nigga with dreads in his hair. I see the big ass tattoo she got of them flowers and shit on her arm,” he said, describing my wife to the tee, especially once he called out the half sleeve tattoo of flowers that she had on her arm.
