Page 31 of Rebooked For Us
“My nigga.”
I clipped, lit, and let the first pull settle. The island and its guests were waking up around us, and I had a whole day ahead of me with Skye, but I needed to handle this first. An apology alone wasn’t enough. This had to cost me something real, or it wasn’t worth saying or doing at all.
“Okay, peep. I’m looking for some fly ass shit for my lady.”
He took a pull off his Cuban and looked at me. “What’s the occasion?”
“I need an expensive apology, take a nigga back type of shit. I’m willing to pay whatever.”
“The one you never got over? Or somebody new?”
I looked at him because calling her my ex was never happening. There was nothing about usx’dout. From this moment on, I’d be chasing and gunning for Skye until our Heavenly Father returned to collect my black ass.
“Oh, you on some as soon as possible type shit?” He stood and headed inside. Came back out with two locked briefcases and placed them on the table.
I rubbed my hands together. I’d run this moment in my head a hundred times.
Myheir leaned back. “Tell me about her.”
I thought about where to start and started where it was true.
“She’s the realest one in any room, no cosign needed.” I turned my glass in my hand. “I call her Spot. The birthmark at her temple was the first thing I noticed about her when we met in college. White cutting right through the dark. I couldn’t take my eyes off it then, still can’t.” I sat with that for a second, thinking about us. “She’s smart, encouraging, true to herself.” I paused. “Skye is one of a kind. The ring must be as well.”
Myheir opened both cases on the table between us. Rows of stones and settings most people never got to see outside a vault. He looked through without rushing, which I appreciated about him. He was a man of his craft.
He pulled one out and held it up to the light.
It was pear-shaped, warm white with a faint champagne undertone, set on a gold band with intricate detailing, with two smaller stones flanking it. Unique. Simple. Specific. My Skye.
“The center stone has a natural inclusion.” He turned it so I could see. A small dark thread running through the white. “Most jewelers grade it down. I kept it because it makes the stone one of a kind. If that’s your girl, this says that.”
He handed it to me with a loupe.
“See for yourself.”
I held it up, and the stone caught the light, and I already knew before I'd even focused the lens. It was exactly what I came for.
“Nigga, this is nice. Perfect. What’s it going to cost me?”
He named the number. I didn’t even flinch, shit was pocket change after the week I’d had.
“I know you got it after winning the Mudd case,” he said, grinning. “I’ll even throw in a band for you.”
I reached into the bag beside me and stacked the cash on the table.
“Wrap that shit up. It’s a deal.”
We dapped and embraced. He wished me luck, and I headed out with the ring in my pocket and the whole day ahead of me.
day two, june 25th
We kept moving until we reached the marina, a short walk from the main strip, tucked past a row of shops and a garden. I made a mental note to stop on the way back. Ducane walked us straight down the dock. That told me he’d spent his whole morning planning.
The boat was beautiful. Not large but perfect for an intimate day. And that’s what we needed. Two wide chairs were positioned toward the bow with a setup between them that I immediately recognized as a massage station. Warm towels, oils, everything arranged and waiting. The water out past the marina was a deep, impossible blue that was best viewed up close and personal.
A staff member greeted us by name and showed us to the chairs. I sat down, looked out at the water, and decided to let myself enjoy this without making it complicated.
“You good?” Ducane settled into the chair beside me as the boat began to move.
