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“I got you.”
Though Saint had accepted his reality, his pride wouldn’t allow him to discuss it with anyone outside of those that were closest to him. As far as he was concerned, no one would have to know that he had been pushed out of his passion because of his divorce. One day, he’d tell the world about his retirement from rap and not give them an excuse. Until then, Saint would have to keep the truth locked away tightly.
“Be safe out here, man,” Saint said before heading to his Jaguar.
He’d had the rest of his cars shipped to Memphis already. Though his older cars were in Tristan’s name, he’d paid cash for them and signed the titles over to himself. When they moved into separate homes, they sold the two that were in her name and split the profit fifty-fifty. Once he was inside the car and headed out of the parking lot, he called his boys via group FaceTime.
After everyone answered, he said, “Which one of you niggas is hiring? I need something to keep me busy when I get back to Memphis.”
Aiyden was the first to speak up and say, “I’m surprised you’re even coming back home. You’re a multi-millionaire. If I was you, I’d be traveling every day for the rest of my life.”
Saint considered that, but after spending years touring and being on the road and different flights several times out of the week, he was ready to settle down and plant roots. He was tired of living life on the go and looked forward to a slower pace.
“Nah, I need a break from traveling right now. You know money will never be an issue, but I need something to keep my mind busy before I fall back into old habits.”
“I feel you,” Hosea said before taking a puff of his cigar. “I was on the same wave before I opened The Tower.”
It was no secret that quite a few of them had been into illegal things in the past. Some of them still were. For Saint, he did the bulk of his dirt in his teenaged years and at the start of his career. Drug money provided the means for him to push his CDs and pay for promoters and venues before the legit profit started coming in. Saint was no stranger to robbing businesses and people either. While he didn’t need money, for a man like him, stimulation and excitement were addicting. Saint feared without music he’d return to the streets.
All it took was one call to his old connects, the Black Mayhem Mafia, and he’d be back in the underworld like he’d never left. Not everyone was able to leave the streets and make their dreams come true, and Saint didn’t take that blessing lightly. He didn’t want to risk it by going back, just to have his second stint end with death or prison.
The streets and music were all he knew. There were no other hobbies or interests that he could shift his focus to, but whatever it took to keep him occupied while he figured out his next legal move, that was what Saint was willing to do.
“If you’re serious, there’s an opening at the library,” Kahlil said. “One of the women that Harmony hired had to quit abruptly because of medical issues.”
“That mane ain’t tryna spend all day in no boring ass library,” Damien replied.
Though Saint laughed, the library may have been perfect. He loved reading, and the quiet, calm environment may have been just what he needed to keep his mind at ease.
“I’on know, brother. The library might be the move,” Saint replied.
“How you gon’ go from touring and partying damn near every night to working a nine to five, at a library of all places, and live a normal life?” Damien asked.
“Shit, I’on know, but I guess we all about to find out…”
ChapterFifteen
Harmony
It wasthe first time since Harmony and Keith had started dating that she made plans for a holiday without including him. Last year for Thanksgiving and Christmas, Keith didn’t accept the invitation to spend time with her family. This year, Harmony didn’t offer it just to have it rejected again. While she wouldn’t assume what the issue was, Harmony couldn’t help but wonder if his lack of desire to be around her family had anything to do with her not wanting to be around his. Harmony had never made the fact that she believed his family could do more for him while he was sick a secret.
They swore they loved and cared about Keith, but they often only called when they needed something or wanted to party and have a good time. When Keith’s legs would go out on him and he couldn’t walk, or he would be paralyzed with pain, Harmony was the one he called on. When he couldn’t keep food down or didn’t have an appetite but needed to eat to maintain his strength, Harmony was the one taking care of him. When he was too weak to drive himself to and from appointments, Harmony was his chauffeur. She’d been by his side every step of the way, and if she was to be honest with herself, that was why she’d get so upset when he’d go out and enjoy himself with other people.
Nothing that she did was for praise, but Harmony felt as if she was helping a man heal his body just to live his life and enjoy it with others. Her tank was empty, and Keith hadn’t made refilling her a priority in Harmony didn’t know how long. Before their last talk, they went out only when she asked or initiated it. Now, they weren’t going out at all. There was peace in the lack of Keith’s presence for a change. It gave Harmony time to focus on herself and whatshewanted.
In the beginning, she felt as if she was so lonely in their relationship because he was sick, but Harmony now believed she was lonely because they had different values and perspectives. They didn’t start having issues until they moved in together, and as much as Harmony hated to admit it, it wasn’t the cancer creating a rift between them, it was the fact that Keith the fiancé and husband was different from Keith the boyfriend. Living in the same home had taken away a lot of the excitement between them, and if that was the case this early in, Harmony wasn’t sure marrying him was a wise idea.
Still, she’d promised to put forth effort, and that was what she’d been doing.
As Harmony looked over sweaters in her closet, her phone began to ring. She grabbed it from off the counter in the bathroom and smiled at the sight of Honey’s name. A few years ago, Honey restored a few books for Harmony, and they’d kept in touch over the years. When Honey decided to publish her first fiction novel, she called Harmony for advice. Harmony gave it, and as repayment, Honey brokered the deal between Kahlil and Harmony for her to take over the library when he decided to sell it. Harmony wouldn’t have been able to afford it on her own merit, but Honey raved about her to Kahlil so much that he signed it over to her for one dollar.
“Hey, sis,” Harmony greeted, leaning against the pink and cream counter. It was probably her favorite part of the home and the reason she wanted it to begin with. The master bathroom had been customized by the previous owner, and its massive tub, shower, and countertops were all a pretty pink and cream marbled color.
“Hey! Happy Thanksgiving, boo.”
“Happy Thanksgiving. How are you and the family?”
Honey released a content sigh that made Harmony smile. She had given birth to her and Kahlil’s first baby girl, Kayla, last month.
