Page 10 of Rich and Rotten

“My father called and said he heard she was messing with that man again. And you know how Bloom is. She’ll get defensive if I meddle in her business.”

“And you think she won’t with me?” I asked. “She’s made it clear that our work and personal lives are separate, Yalina. She’s grown. We can’t keep babying her.”

Yaya sighed. “I don’t want to baby her. I just don’t want to see her waste her life on that nigga again. After the way things ended, I thought she’d finally be done with him.”

Although we were all thick as thieves, Bloom kept her love life private. We only knew what she chose to share. What I did know was her ex was the reason she once showed up at my front door with her eyes swollen and red from crying and a suitcase in hand.

That man dragged her through hell, and she mistook it for heaven. She thought that because he claimed to love her, the pain and chaos he caused somehow proved it was real love. I told her many times that love doesn’t feel like hell. Love feels like curling up on the couch and watching your favorite comfort movie during a thunderstorm. Sure, the thunder might startle you, but instead of fear, it just sets the perfect background for a relaxing evening. It’s loud, wild, and unpredictable, but never unbearable. That’s what love felt like to me. I constantly reminded Bloom that just because a man says he loves you doesn’t mean he truly does. As her sister, Yaya wanted to protect her. She could see as clear as day that Bloom’s boyfriend was no good and wanted to shield her from what she knew was coming. But Bloom wanted to live life on her own terms. Her choices were hers to make, even if that meant stumbling.

“She’s stubborn,” I said softly. “You can’t control her life. She has to make her own mistakes. Hopefully, this last spin the block will finally show her he’s not the right man.”

“Yeah,” Yaya sighed. “Hopefully.”

“I love you, Yaya,” I said with a smile, keeping pace on the treadmill.

“Love you, too. Oh, don’t forget we have that meeting with the skincare company. Also, Jonah wants to discuss opening a location in the Dominican Republic at that new resort.”

I groaned. “He’s corrupted you, too?”

Yaya chuckled. “He may have called and asked me to add the meeting to your calendar.”

“He wants to expand too quickly, and I don’t think I’m ready for that.” I increased the incline and wiped the sweat from my brow.

“Tatiana, you’ve had Hush for six years. It’s the most sought-after spa in the area. People travel from the city to Greenwich just to visit. It’s time to stop being scared and expand.”

“I worry about Nazira. Expanding means I’ll spend more time away from her, traveling and fulfilling other commitments. I don’t think she’s ready for that.”

“Is she not ready, or are you not ready? You have a support system that will gladly step in and make sure Nazira is cared for. Plus, you pay Bloom good money to do that. I think you’re making excuses.”

“Well, I think you and Jonah like each other, and you’re making excuses to see him.”

Yaya laughed. “And I think you just want me to move on and are trying to push Jonah into my arms.”

“Is a girl wrong for trying? You deserve the world, Yalina. Jonah could give it to you.”

As usual, she ignored me and went right back to business.

“Listen, you have the support, and every investor wants a piece of what you’ve built. The city location is going to be huge, so it only makes sense to keep expanding. And stop turning down interviews. Do those, as well––but baby steps.”

“I’m going to kill both you and Jonah,” I muttered.

“Yeah, well, you’ll have to come to the meeting to do that. See you in a few hours––and kiss Zira for me.”

“Whatever,” I smirked and ended the call.

Hush was my second child. After endless conversations with Karim about having another baby, I realized he wasn’t going to change his mind, and I needed something to channel my energy into. My mom came over one afternoon, talking about how one of her friends was selling her spa and moving out of the country. She went on and on about how it was the only black-owned spa in the area and how she hated going to the other spas because no one ever treated her skin properly. I listened to her for weeks before finally deciding to visit the spa. The moment I stepped inside, I knew. My body relaxed as the scent of santal drifted through the air. I’ve always been into skincare and self-care. My mother had been taking me to spas since I was seven, teaching me early the importance of pouring back into yourself.

When my treatments ended, I met the owner, and what started as a quick introduction turned into us chatting in her office like old friends while sipping champagne. She shared her dreams of traveling, which she had put on hold to raise her children, and how she had missed out on love twice because she had chosen her career instead. She spoke with so much wisdom, being transparent about her sacrifices and regrets.

I used to have a plan for my life too, but when I got married, that plan crumbled. I had gone from wanting an exciting life in New York City to living in the suburbs with a husband and a child. Before becoming Tatiana Sterling, I wanted to be someone––a woman with her own plan and her own money. I had been kept my entire life, and I swore I’d never become a kept woman.

We talked until closing time, and that’s when I offered to buy her spa. She laughed, thinking I was joking, until I pulled out my checkbook and asked her number. It took her a moment to realize I was serious, but once she did, she told me the amount, and I wrote the check without hesitation. The next week, I shadowed her at the spa and learned everything I needed to know. We signed the papers, and she hugged me with tears in her eyes. Her dream had come true––she was able to sell her home and travel the world.

While Jennifer was ending her chapter as a spa owner, I was starting mine. I rebranded everything, from the name to the interior, added new treatments, and hired the best of the best. Besides loving being a mother to my baby, this was what excited me and motivated me to get out of bed each morning.

Like always, Karim was right there to offer advice and support. Raphael covered the entire cost of renovating the space and even bought the wellness store next door to expand the spa. My mother was excited that a Black-owned spa would stay in Greenwich, and everyone was happy about it. Except my father. He didn’t understand why I was starting a business when I had a husband. Malcolm couldn’t understand why Karim was so supportive of his wife having something of her own.

Hush Spa was opened, and our clientele doubled overnight. We were the most talked-about spa in Greenwich, and we still are. Expansion was something Karim and I discussed before he passed away, but after his death, I shut down all talk of that. Growing something we built together without him didn’t feel right.