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Laughing, I cheered, “Here. Here!”
The ladies joined us in a boisterous toast.
Our glasses were in the air, prepared for a toast when Ken proposed, “To the best and brightest minds in winemaking.” His eyes opened wide, blue irises bright as hell. “We’re going to make a shit load of money at this rate.Château Blevin!”
“Château Blevin!” Lenny, Mark, and I repeated before tapping glasses.
This wasn’t my comfort zone, socializing over business. Strategizing and coming up with ways to expand and increase earnings wasn’t a task for me. In fact, those were things I did alone in my head while busy on a site or working out. But this shit of coming out to eat just to confirm business was some shit that had been painful to get through. But these were my guys, my team in the winery world.
“Yes!” Ken barely swallowed. “And with this expansion taking place, things are only looking better and brighter. Jaquana texted me today saying the deal is solid. Five more acres to our estate!”
“Good thinking on Jas’ part,” Mark added.
“True that,” Lenny agreed. “Jacobs was right when he said you were a thinker.” He patted my shoulder.
I understood comradery, but wasn’t quite there and needed time to ease into it. “It’s nothing.” I took a sip of my water. “We’re a team…everybody bringing something to the think tank.” I shrugged.
“True, but the restaurant on the estate?” Ken’s brows shot up. “That was genius.”
“Pure facts, bro,” Lenny agreed. “We’re including restaurateur on our resumes. A facility there with cigar service.”
“It’s about maximizing our assets.” I shrugged. “You saw the numbers from the marketing team. Cigars and wine have a viable relationship.”
Château Blevinwas still new, but a promising budding brand. Divine helped out a lot with the marketing which followed his belovedMauve. He hit the urban circuit with it hard, but not just any urban market: affluent public figures the middle class and poor are influenced by. Then he backed out, leaving me an opportunity to step up. And I had stepped up. I forced an aggressive research project for the marketing team and thought to open a restaurant on the vineyard. We launched it a month ago with such promising numbers that we’d just purchased an additional five acres to build a larger restaurant and a cigar bar on the estate. Of course, my firm would handle the construction.
Ken pumped his fist into the air. He was different. Not corny or suspect, just different. He was in his mid-forties with no wife or kids. Ken’s excitement seemed singular. He often said his one focus in life was business. It showed in his hunger for the game. These were good times.
“This is why I fucking love Jersey, man.” Ken sucked in air dramatically. “The terrain is so fucking diverse.”
“It’s why I moved my family out here three years ago from Chicago,” Lenny added. “The weather, options for neighborhoods, coastline…”
I nodded in agreement, attention going out of our booth to the two-story restaurant. The restaurant was full, loud, and lit. It had a vibe to it: young, pretentious, and upper crust.
Upper crust…
That term made me scoff as my head bounced to the random song falling from the ceiling. That was until my fucking scrolling fell on smooth auburn skin on a narrow neck. Her head was tossed back as she hooted in laughter. From even at this distance, I could see the white oval row of her top teeth and the pinching of her nose.
My fucking stomach dropped to the floor.
“He was just ramming his damn finger in me, moaning,” Shizu cried. “It’s like he was telling me how to respond. The asshole wanted me to moan, too. For what? You’re not hitting one nerve—”
“Except for the one in your brain!” Corinne amended.
I laughed so hard.
“That sounds like Richard,” Frenchie spoke directly to Toya. Then she turned back to the table. “A guy I was dating from Queens. Met him at a bowling alley when my team attended a fundraiser there. He was there for the same professional reason. Cute. Tall. And dumb as hell. It took us four months to finally get together. The first time was on me. You know…I took the ride, knowing some tricks for the both of us to have fun.” She clapped her hands in the air. “That was until this imbecile slipped his finger in my ass.” She rolled her eyes.
“Now, wait a minute!” Corinne warned with eyes and tone. “That shit’ll have you cleaning his mean ass momma’s house if done right.”
“It wasn’t done right. He just put it in there and hardly moved it,” Frenchie explained. “I could tell he ain’t know much about anal play. You don’t just plug that shit digitally. You explore—”
“And find those nerve-endings.” Toya’s head bounced up and down in understanding.
I found that interesting. Anal play had never been my thing. Although I hadn’t had lots of partners, I didn’t trust exploring that shit to just anyone. It was something you had to measure against the guy’s overall level of attentiveness and sensitivity. Most men failed at both to me, so there you had it.
“There ain’t many niggas out there with good D game,” Frenchie claimed. “They just seem impatient and sloppy.”
“You’re damn right,” Toya agreed. “I don’t have time to teach these fools. I ain’t nobody’s momma.”
