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I turned just slightly and found Ashira still there. Her eyes were red, likely from being tired. She’d been on go since seven this morning, getting ready for the party. Other than that, I assumed she was concerned about Chivon’s sudden decision to stay at my place instead of going to her moms’ as we scheduled.
“Is it your new birthday toys, Chi?” Ashira asked, head at a slant, voice soft. “Uncle Man put them in his truck already to bring home.”
“No!” Chivon cried, lifting her head from my shoulder to address her mother. “I wanna sleep in my bed.” She pointed to her chest.
Ashira blinked, standing straight at that news. “Okay…” Her eyes swept the floor. “You don’t have to sleep in Mommy’s room tonight. You can sleep in your bed.”
“No!” Chivon yelled even louder, angrier. “I wanna sleep inmybed up there!” She pointed to the ceiling.
Chivon didn’t want to leaveLake Sha’Ron. That was what she’d been arguing.
I saw an emotion heat up Ashira’s face when she processed my blueberry’s baby dialect. She folded her arms across her chest. “Chivon Ojasvi, we will not have this fight tonight. You’re coming home with Mommy. Daddy has to worktomor—”
“No!” Chivon started wailing again, legs and feet swinging as wildly as they could against me. “I no go, Mommy! No!”
“Chi-Chi!” Corinne and Jug called at the same time, seeing how upset she was.
That’s it!
“She’s good. She can stay with me tonight. I’ll drop her off in the morning before hitting the airport.”
“Are you sure?” The apparent attitude in Ashira’s tone couldn’t be missed, but I had to make the call. “She hasn’t been home since I’ve been back. She’s got to come tomorrow. She should just get used to her bed tonight toprepare—” Her head fell to the side again. “Chivon!”
I turned to leave the kitchen. Chivon’s death grip on my neck and shoulders ate away at my conscience. “I’ll be a’ight. See you tomorrow. Man’ll drop her stuff off tonight, though.”
We left them behind, and I took my baby upstairs, bathed her, and prayed with her at the side of her little bed. The moment her head hit the pillow, Chivon was out. I was grateful and could now get some shit done to prepare for this meeting tomorrow.
I scanned the fields of the charts on both screens, being sure the numbers on the adjacent monitors were an exact match or, at least, a few pennies off.
So far, so good…
With tight, dry eyes, I reclined in the leather office chair and exhaled deeply. This shit was intense. How could I continue getting by, by the skin of my teeth? My eyes traced the brick walls of my office at my dance club,Kucheza. It had been months since I’d been around. Since leaving Chi-Chi at her father’s last night, I’d been brooding, effectively restless in thought and action. Instead of crashing once I hit the door, I stripped down to shorts and a sports bra, plugged my ear with blasting music, and scrubbed her bedroom at my apartment from ceiling to floor. When I felt no exhaustion, I did the same for my bedroom, master bath, and closet. And when that was complete, I found myself in the middle of moving the furniture in my living room around after disinfecting it when my first yawn hit. That was after three this morning.
My eyes fluttered open minutes before six this morning with the inimitable panic to finally stop putting off coming intoKuchezaand crosschecking the quarterly report my accountant drew up, which crosschecked that of the club manager’s.
And speaking of which…
From the corner of my eye, I caught movement from the security monitor. I watched him saunter with endless confidence through the slush from last night’s pouring snow to the club’s back door. My phone chirping had me reaching for it. It was Ines asking me to stop at the pharmacy on my way home when I’d pick up our overnight bags. As I was texting her back, agreeing to her request, Sergio was leaning into my office door frame with just a shoulder, his book bag strapped to the same one. His brown knitted hat covered his even longer pitch-black, silken tresses. Today was an administrative day for him, where he’d perform loads of paperwork and oversee a deep cleaning of the place by a contracted partner.
“What the hell?” He griped playfully. “I was expecting you this week, but not this morning.” Understanding how off-kilter I’d been operating, I nodded, scoffing. “How long have you been here?”
I glanced at the clock above his head. “Since just before eight.”
His eyes flashed wild. “Eight—you’ve been here for over four hours, woman?”
I groaned, reclining once again in my chair. “I’ve been away for months. This has been past due, dude.”
Sergio stood straight, taking a couple of steps into the doorjamb. “Let me ask you a question. A serious one. Why are you doing this? Why do you own a club? You’re never here, traveling around the globe, chasing your dreams—and accomplishing them all. And what you earn from here is modest. I estimate about eighty percent of it goes to the bookkeeper you hired to look over my shoulder. You can spend what’s left over on your shoe shopping sprees atBergdorf Goodman.”
I shrugged, slightly embarrassed because Sergio’s words weren’t untruthful. “Because thisismy dream.”Or at least was…
“Are you sure about that?” His curious regard locked on to me. “Because I know of at least three investors,now, who’d take this place off your hands for a premium price tag.” His eyes gestured around the room. “Your choreography success has made this place a hot spot since the grand opening. That, and my superb expertise, has this place packed five nights a week.”
“Don’t forget my vision and intuition.” My smile was crassly applied.
The curving of Sergio’s thin lips was cute. “All I’m saying is I’m here—” My phone rang. “—if you decide to take a detour from this venture.”
Chi-Chi…
