Page 39 of A King’s Obsession

To anybody else, it probably looked like nothing. I could already see styling stations along one wall, shampoo bowls in the back, dryers farther down, and a reception desk near the entrance. Maybe two private suites toward the rear for stylists who wanted their own space. I could picture the mirrors, the chairs, the women coming in for appointments, and my name on the front door. The whole damn thing.

Jru caught the look on my face. She'd sat in my chair enough times to know I knew what the fuck I was doing when it came to hair. What she didn't know was how far I'd taken the idea. “You been looking at shops?” she asked, turning slowly to take in the room.

“For a while,” I admitted, walking farther inside. Her eyes found mine, and she said my name in that quiet way she did when she realized something mattered to me. I leaned against the empty counter near the wall. “I got my master's in business and accounting for a reason. I always wanted my own shit. I just never had the money to open the kind of salon I wanted.”

Her expression softened, but I kept going before I talked myself out of telling her the rest. “Everybody thinks every dollar a man gives me goes straight to bags, shoes, and trips. And don't get it twisted, bitch, I do spend money.” She laughed, and I smiled. “But I save too. Been putting money away for years. I got enough stacked now to really do something.”

“Enough for this?” she asked, glancing around again.

“Enough to get started.” Saying it out loud made my chest tighten. I'd always been comfortable letting people misunderstand me because explaining myself took energy I didn't owe them. I liked being taken care of. There was no shame in that. But enjoying a provider and having absolutely nothing of your own were two different things, and I refused to be the second kind of woman.

“And honestly,” I said, watching Jru examine the windows, “you inspire me a little.”

Her eyebrows lifted, and I immediately pointed at her. “Don't get excited. I said a little.”

She laughed, but I meant it. “You always go get your shit. Even when everything in Rosemont was fucked up, you kept working and figuring something out. I always respected that about you.” Her smile softened, and I looked around the storefront again. “If I move in with Malachi, I want something that belongs to me too. I know that man ain't gonna make me pay bills, and I'm not about to fight him to do it. But I still wanna bring something to the table, even if he never asks me to use it.”

That was what had been bothering me since breakfast. Marriage sounded good. Being somebody's wife sounded good. But I wanted to walk into that marriage knowing I'd built something too. Something that couldn't disappear because somebody woke up one morning and changed his mind.

My phone started ringing inside my purse. Malachi. I answered while walking toward the front windows, smiling before I could stop myself. “What?”

“Damn. That's how you answer the phone?” His voice was low and amused, and I could practically see him shaking his head.

“What you want?” I asked, leaning against the window.

“What you doing?”

“Out with Jru handling something.” I watched a car pull into the lot while he asked what we were handling. “Why you being nosy?”

“Ashlynn.” There was a warning in his voice, but I could hear the smile beneath it.

“We looking at something. What you doing?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder. Jru was still walking around the space, studying the walls like she was already helping me decorate.

“Trying to see how much longer you gonna be out.”

“I don't know. She gotta do inventory at Vice later, so probably not too much longer. Why?” He went quiet for a second, and I straightened. Then he spoke again.

“You called me old this morning.”

I pulled the phone away from my ear to look at the screen. “Nigga, did you call me just to argue about your age again?”

“Nah.” The playfulness faded from his voice. “I called because you right.”

I stopped smiling. “Oh, shit. Say it again. I need to record this.”

“See, this why I don't tell your ass shit.”

I laughed softly, pressing my free hand against the glass. “Okay, okay. I'm listening.”

“I'm already old, according to your ass, so I ain't got time to be playing house.” He paused, and something in his tone made my stomach flutter. “I been thinking about what we talked about. I meant what I said about you moving in, but I ain't comfortable with us just shacking up. That shit don't sit right with my faith.”

I turned away from Jru, suddenly aware of how hard my heart was pounding. “So what are you saying?”

“I'm saying you can have whatever wedding you want later. Big wedding, little wedding, fly everybody across the fucking world. I don't care. But first, we going to the courthouse.”

I stared through the window, speechless. This man had no idea. No idea that three days ago I'd been standing in my bathroom staring at two pink lines. No idea that when he asked about children that morning, I was already carrying his. Somehow that made his words hit harder. Malachi was choosing me without knowing about the baby.

“Are you asking me to marry you over the phone?” I finally managed, my voice quieter than I intended.