“Calm down, Grumpy Gills. It ain’t that damn serious. Klarity need to hit you in the mouth again for always causing ruckus ‘round here. Royce, why are you here? We handle shit and you know it. We didn’t need yo’ assistance,” Akira spat.
She wasn’t wrong though. It wasn’t shit that went down that me and Akira couldn’t handle ourselves. Royce just wanted to be in control of everything. He had that when it came to his wife and children. I was sure it was beginning to get under his skin knowing that was the furthest his control went. Everyone else were grown and it wasn’t a damn thing he could do to make us follow behind him. He was the head when it came to the family business, that was the most he got from us. That recognition and that recognition alone.
“Don’t start with me, Salmon Head. I ain’t in the mood,” he snapped. When it came to name calling and bickering, you could count on them to do it every time. They fought just like siblings.
Salmon head was a new one. Akira’s favorite color was pink, and she incorporated it in each hair style she wore. My girl slayed a pink wig like no other. It actually looked good on her. She was a chocolate baddie, and it brought out her femineity. You could point her out in a crowd.
“I really don’t give a fuck, Royce. What you gon’ do to me?” she challenged. Akira was gon’ go toe to toe with him every time. She only did it because she knew it got him riled up.
“Kira, I’ll cut yo’ supply off, too. Stop playing with me,” he threw back.
The threat sounded good, but we all knew he couldn’t. Her father was Senator Baraz. They had money regardless, even without the bread Royce threw him for being in his pocket. Royce just wanted to fuss. It was quite comical at this point.
She threw her hands up offering a light chuckle as she said, “The bitch had it coming, that’s all I got to say. As far as yo’ number being leaked…”
She cut her eyes in my direction blatantly giving me away. His number was on speed dial for the shop landline, and everybody knew to hit him in case of an emergency. It wasn’t hard to get in contact with him.
“It’s protocol for them to call you in case of an emergency. Clearly, they thought it was. Look, we good now, so go ‘bout yo’ business,” I chimed shooing him away. I was over the back and forth.
“As long as Atkins blood is running through yo’ veins, you are my business. Speaking of, tell me what Uncle Ryan said ‘bout that dumbass shit you did in Vegas. I know he flipped,” he said finally cracking a smile.
Ever since we were kids, he enjoyed others getting reprimanded. He really got on my nerves. “He gave me thirty days to find him,” I answered.
“What day you on?” he inquired.
“Eight,” I said flopping down in my desk chair.
“Seems to me you need to be getting a move on it. I was gon’ give you sixty, but Unc ain’t got time to play with you. I suggest you hop on it. It’s funny ‘cause ever since you went and did that goofy shit, yo’ ass ain’t stepped foot back in Vegas. If this was all it took to sit yo’ ass down, I would’ve made you marry Striker,” he jested.
Striker looked at me and me him. Neither one of us found his joke comical. Striker had the biggest crush on me and at one point in time, the feelings were mutual. I wasn’t for him though, and I refused to mess up the friend group by dibbling and dabbling on that side of the fence. He was fine as hell, but he wasn’t and never would be mine.
“You know better than that nigga. That’s an untamable woman, and I’ll be damned if she bite me ‘cause she don’t know no better,” Striker said acknowledging my wild ways.
I smirked and responded with, “Smart man. At least you know how wicked shit can get.”
Standing, Royce headed for the door. “Find that nigga, Cedees. Yo’ birthday getting closer and closer, which means stupid ass needs to make his debut.”
“Why he got to be stupid?” Kira questioned. Shit, I wanted to know, too. I was a damned good catch.
“’Cause if he knew like we knew, Cedees wouldn’t have even been on his radar. She ain’t nothing but a street walker. I love you cousin, but you get around,” he said before bolting out the door.
He knew to run because the last thing I would ever be categorized as was a hoe. I had fun with niggas, but my pussy wasn’t for everybody. Did I have my share of headhunters? Absolutely. However, only a few could tell you how the inside of phat ma felt. I ain’t see nothing wrong with making these niggas eat me like a buffet.
I refused to chase after him. Akira and Striker stood there shaking their heads. Royce was gon’ do Royce every time. It never failed.
“Keep him the hell away from my shop, Striker,” I voiced with annoyance.
“You know I can’t do shit with him. Stop beating on yo’ customers and call me when you get to the crib. I’ll come overand blow down with you. Kira, stop encouraging that ratchet shit. Y’all too pretty to behave like that for real,” Striker spoke before following behind his boy.
Kira stood and shut the office door. She then walked over to her side of the office and copped a squat. She looked over at me wearing a menacing grin letting me know some bullshit was forming in her mind.
“What Kira?” I questioned after she stared me down for what seemed like an eternity.
“You married Striker, didn’t you?” Scoffing, I rolled my eyes once more and began to get myself together. I still had a client out front that was waiting for me. She was nice enough to wait this long, and I didn’t want to keep her any longer. “Bitch, it’s all making sense.”
“Is it?” I asked sarcastically. Her and Royce with their assumptions always got on my nerves.
“He was out of town, so were you. You can’t remember a damn thing but how good he fucked you. That man look at you like he’ll go to war with God behind you. And let’s be clear, that ring on his finger wasn’t missed.”