It was a good night, the best night. A perfect night. And I owed it all to one Everett “Big South” McClain.
34
Sid was on his way to drop off Nat’s Christmas gifts. Plus, we’d been texting back and forth for a week or so, and surprisingly, he hadn’t said anything stupid, so of course I was happy, but cautiously so. With him, you never knew when he was going to switch up on you.
Standing in the foyer staring out one of the huge windows, I wrung my hands and bit my bottom lip. I was taking a chance letting him come to our house, had to convince Everett it was a safe choice, and really hoped Sid didn’t make me regret the decision.
“Damn, you act like you waiting on a date or something.”
I turned to face Everett, rolling my eyes. “Don’t do that. I’m just…nervous. He’s been acting like he has some sense, but you never know. Seeing the house, my car? I’m afraid that might trigger his crazy side or something.”
“Well, if it does, we got armed security on the property. I’ma have them outside watching this whole gift delivery thing. His ass makes one wrong move and it’s over.”
“Well, damn…I’m glad I took Nat to Ms. Sherry’s. I did it because I didn’t want her to see the gifts in case Sid brings them unwrapped, but I’d also hate for her to see him get gunned down for smiling at me.”
With a smirk on his face, he said, “Whatever. His ass just better come correct, ‘cause I’ll be out there with you.” He gave me a look that said he expected me to protest.
Instead, I said, “Okay.”
He stumbled backward and grabbed his chest. “You ain’t gonna fight me on it?” Moving closer, he placed a hand on my forehead. “You a’ight? Sick?”
I slapped his hand away. “You’re an asshole.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Look, I don’t wanna be alone with him any more than you want me to. I don’t have time for him to get the wrong idea and think this is a date or something since he likes to act like we are still in a relationship sometimes.”
His phone dinged with a text, and after staring down at it for a second, he looked up at me, and said, “Tommy just buzzed him in the gate. Let’s go.”
We stepped outside onto the driveway and watched as Sid’s Range Rover stopped in front of us. Everett moved behind me as Sid hopped out and walked to the back of his truck to get the gifts.
From the sides of us, I noticed Tommy and Chink approaching. Oba—yes, that Oba—who Everett had stolen from Peter Park because I was familiar with him, stood behind us on the front steps. All eyes were on Sid, who was now approaching me with a couple of beautifully-wrapped boxes.
“Damn,” he said. “Y’all got an army in this bitch, huh? All these big motherfuckers out here…”
I took the boxes from him. “Thanks so much. Nat is going to be thrilled,” I said, ignoring his statement. Yes, the security was excessive, but what did he expect after the show he put on at the National Hip Hop Awards?
“‘Sup, South?” Sid said, giving Everett a backwards nod.
“‘Sup? Hey, Chink! Come get these boxes. Got anymore, Bugz?” Everett asked.
“Yeah, ‘bout five more. Shit, dude can just come get ‘em out my truck if that’s cool with you.”
“Yeah, that’ll work,” Everett replied, probably wanting to limit Sid’s contact with me as much as possible.
I was watching Chink unload Sid’s truck, aware that Sid’s eyes were on me and praying that he didn’t have some kind of relapse and try something dumb in front of Everett. When he moved closer to me, I held my breath. As soon as he placed a hand on my arm, I heard movement and voices.
“Aye, man! Get your got-damn hands off her!” That, of course, was Everett.
“Yo! Back up!” came from Tommy.
Chink dropped the boxes he was carrying and grabbed his gun.
Oba’s gigantic ass had made it down the steps and was in between me and Sid.
Sid stumbled backward with his hands raised in the air. “Damn! Shit! Can I talk to her for a second? I just wanna talk! The fuck?!”
My eyes danced all over the place before I turned and looked at Everett, waiting for him to respond.
“The hell you got to talk to her about that you need to be that close?” Everett asked.
“Ev—” I tried.
“Natalie! I need to talk to her about Natalie!” Sid shouted. “Just a second. That’s it. Right over here.” He pointed toward the hood of his vehicle.
I reached up and kissed Everett. “It’s okay. You can still see us.”
He sighed and nodded.
Once we were at his truck, Sid nearly whispered, “Hey, I just wanted to tell you I realized I went about this the wrong way with you. I ain’t never tell you I’m sorry for what I did with Sonya and everything. You know, leaving you and shit. I shouldn’t have called you a bitch at South’s party, either. All of that was my bad, Jo. I just—you was a good wife. I wanted you to know that.”
“Oh…thank you, but I thought you wanted to talk about Nat?”
“I obviously couldn’t tell that big muh-fucker the truth, could I? Hey, if this don’t work out with him, I hope you’ll give us another try.”
“Uh, that would be a no. Even if I wasn’t in love with Everett, there are just some things I can’t forget, you know? But thanks for the apology and for stepping up where Nat is concerned.”
“Yeah, yeah, no problem. Hey, what if I leave Sonya? I mean, I stay with her because she lets me do what I want. Hell, I could fuck you on top of her and she wouldn’t flinch, but I’ll leave her for you, if I can have you back. Say the word.”
“You can leave her, but you still won’t get me back. I’m getting married, Sid.”
He hung his head a little. “Shit, okay. Look, I’ma be on the road Christmas day, but I’ma Skype Nat or something, a’ight?”
“That sounds good.”
“I love you, Jo. I mean that. I’m glad you’re happy, even if it ain’t with me.”
“Thanks, Sid. That means a lot.”
*****
I might have been nervous as hell about this meeting, but I don’t think anyone could tell. Sitting next to Everett’s lawyer, who was now also my lawyer, I felt like a boss and tried to look like I belonged at the table with these people. My lawyer, Adam Henderson, a handsome piece of dark chocolate in a tailored suit, had negotiated a sweet licensing deal for me with Glam On It Cosmetics. There would be a line of seven long-lasting, no-smear lip glosses to be known as the Mrs. South collection despite the fact that one, I wasn’t even married to Everett yet, and two, South wasn’t Everett’s real last name. I had to admit the name was cute, though, and they let me pick and name my lip gloss shades, including a gorgeous peach color that I named Audacious April after my mom. I named the other colors in my small collection Reola Red, Natalie Nutmeg, Bridgette Bronze, Just Like Candy Coral, Sienna Sage, and Mrs. South Magenta.
Excitement does not describe what it felt like to be there, giving my input about packaging and everything else surrounding this line of lip gloss. Photo shoots were scheduled, as well as follow-up meetings with their marketing department. The line was launching in a month or so, and I couldn’t wait. Maybe Everett was right. Maybe this was what I was made for, being a damn boss!
I thanked Mr. Henderson profusely as we left the building with Bridgette and Oba following closely behind us. Everett had offered to come, too, but I asked him not to. He had plenty of his own business ventures to deal with, and I didn’t want to burden him with mine, too. I had to work hard not to feel bad about him being the only reason these opportunities were afforded to me, and him being there would be a constant reminder of that fact and throw me off my game. I definitely didn’t need that.
“Don’t forget about our meeting with S.H.E. Athletics next week,” Mr. Henderson reminded me. “The Lady South sneakers.”
“Oh, I won’t let her forget,” Bridgette chirped. I had never seen her so giddy and not only because I’d named a lip
gloss after her. When I asked her to be my assistant a few days earlier, I was scared she’d curse me out for even thinking about asking her to do it, that she’d think I thought I was above her or something. But she saw it in the spirit that I meant it—me moving up in the world and wanting to take her with me. When I told her what I was willing to pay her every month and presented her with the first check, she pulled out her phone and quit her job on the spot. I promised her she would still have time to pursue her acting career. I wasn’t trying to step on her dreams, I just needed someone to help me keep everything straight now that I was a mother, an entrepreneur, and Big South’s woman. Shoot, being his woman alone required an assistant to help me keep track of the events I had to attend with him.
“Girl, that was fun! Thank you for bringing me along!” Bridgette gushed, once we were in my truck.
“Girl, that’s your job now, to follow my ass around.”
She giggled. “Right! And I took a ton of notes for you.”
“Good. My head was spinning in there. I’m sure I forgot something that was said.”
One thing I figured out really quickly after Everett started insisting that I always have security with me when I leave the house is that it’s easier to just let the bodyguard drive, so we were in the back and Oba was at the wheel. Now I got why Everett always had Tommy driving him around. Made more sense than taking more than one vehicle everywhere or chauffeuring your own bodyguard.
“You know what? Oba, let’s head to Rodeo. I feel like some celebratory shopping.”
“Got you, Boss Lady,” he replied. Wow, I was really Oba’s boss, or at least my man was. Life was crazy!
“Yes, bish! You better spend that Mrs. South shmoney!” Bridgette squealed. “Girl, you’ve got the best life now and my ass is taking notes on that, too! One, find a fine, sexy rapper who can’t take his eyes off you. Two, put that kitty cat on him real good. Three—”
I could see Oba smirking in the rearview mirror, so I turned to Bridgette, and said, “If you shut up, I’ll buy you some Loubs.”
She raised her eyebrows and fell against the back of the seat. “Hell, just call my ass Helen Keller, then.”
I was heading down the stairs when my phone started buzzing in my hand. I’d slept through most of the morning after spending a late night in the studio, and Jo was still gone. I would’ve dragged myself out of bed and gone to that meeting with her, but she wanted this to be her thing and didn’t want to trouble me with it. I was proud of her, of how she was coming into her own, becoming a boss, and a sexy-ass one at that.
“Hello?” I answered, activating the speakerphone so I could answer Jo’s Your woman is officially a boss text.
“Ev! Man, I been trying to get you all morning!” Leland shouted into the phone.
“My bad, man. Slept in. Long night in the studio.”
Me to Jo: Shit, u was always bossy as hell anyway.
“What you working on? Didn’t you just put an album out?” Leland asked.
“That’s like me asking you why you still practice. Don’t you already play for the NBA? This is what I do. It’s my job and it keeps me sane.”
Jo: Whatever. You like my bossiness.
“Yeah, I guess I can see that. How’s the wife?” Leland asked.
I chuckled. He’d been calling Jo my wife since he met her at the benefit. “She’s good. She had that meeting with Glam On It today. Just texted me to let me know she signed on the dotted line.”
Me to Jo: I do. Hey, congrats baby. I’m proud of u.
“That’s what’s up! Tell her congrats for me. Can’t believe you ain’t with her. I didn’t think you ever let her out of your sight, the way you are about her.”
Jo: Thank you. What you doing there without me and Nat? Miss us?
Me: Hell no.
Jo: Lmao!! Lying ass. Be home after I do a little shopping with Bridgette. Love you.
That text was followed up with about ten heart emojis and some water droplets.
Me: Love ur freaky ass 2. Hurry up and come home.
“Ev! You still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. What you tryna say? I’m sprung or something?”
“No, I’m saying you sprung like a motherfucker!” He laughed into the phone.
“Man, shut your ass up. You called me to mess with me about my woman because you ain’t got one? What happened to old Bertha I met at Jo’s party? She break her hip or something? They won’t let you sign her out the nursing home anymore?”
“First of all, you dumb motherfucker, her name is Janet, and we decided to take a break. She was getting too damn clingy, asked if I wanted kids. Shit, she’s forty-five! The hell she want more kids for?”
“She already got kids?” I was in the kitchen now, trying to find something to eat. Jo didn’t want a cook, but we were gonna have to do something. Ordering food all the time was messing with my diet. I wasn’t trying to go back to being Tick.
“One. A girl. I think she’s my age.”
“And you don’t see a problem with that?”
“Nope.”
“Man, you a trip with them old women.” I grabbed some grapes and sat at the kitchen table. “Hey, what happened at that game last week? Been meaning to ask you about that. Was that shit with Armand Daniels for real?”
“Yeah. He’s a hot head. Always wants to fight someone when we lose. I guess he chose me last Thursday. To be honest, I’m tired of his ass, but the owners love him.”
“The kid’s got talent. You can’t dispute that.”
“Yeah, but he’s a ball hog and an asshole. Got no respect for anyone. You know, I’ll be a free agent at the end of this season. I’m seriously weighing my options.”
“For real? You thinking about leaving Miami? You love that team, man.”
“I loved the Clippers, too, and I left them. I always know when it’s time to move on. Feels like it’s that time again.”
“Word? You thinking about St. Louis? I know they been looking at you.”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I just know it’s either make a move or get fined and shit for beating Daniels’ ass on the court. Dude irks the shit outta me.”
“Yeah…I feel you. Well, you know I got your back. Wherever you go, they gonna get a new fan in me.”
“‘Preciate it, Ev. Aye, but here’s what I called you for. Neil.”
I sighed, chewed a grape, and said, “He at it again?”
“Yep, tried to hit me up for five G’s, man. Talking about some investment. But I didn’t fall for it. Just giving you a heads-up.”
I shook my head. “The last time he came to me with that weak shit, I shut him down. He probably won’t be calling me. What’d you say to him?”
“I told him to stop that damn gambling.”
“But you ain’t give him anything?”
“Didn’t I say I didn’t?”
“But you wanted to?”
Leland sighed into the phone. “Man, Ev. Shit, it’s hard. I mean, I didn’t give him anything, but what if he owes some crazy muh-fucker? I don’t know…he ain’t been right since he and Emery broke up. Her leaving him really messed his head up.”
“Yeah, I know. Look, Leland, you do what you feel is right and I’ma do the same thing. I love Neil just like I love all y’all, and I know he’s still getting over his girl, but I’ve done enough. I put him through college, bought his first, second, and third cars, bought him a house, even gave his ass a business, just like I gave Kat one, and—
“And me one, too, huh?”
“Nah, you made it into the NBA all on your own. I ain’t have nothing to do with that.”
“Yeah, you did. You paid for all my gear from the time I was like seven or eight, paid for me to go to the best basketball camps and private high schools, paid for my tutors so my test scores would be good enough to take advantage of the scholarships they were throwing at me, encouraged me, believed in me. You definitely gave me a career, Ev.”
I shrugged. “Just did what was right, what
Daddy would’ve done if he’d been there. He was a good man, Leland. One of the best. Wasn’t nothing he wouldn’t do for us.”
“Yeah, wish I’d known him.”
“Me, too.” I paused for a second and then continued, “But look, like I was saying, I gave him that business, one of the few independent book stores that are still in the black, and I offered to get his ass some counseling and pay for rehab, but he refused. I just can’t do no more. I’m tryna build a family, here. I can’t keep bailing Neil’s grown ass out of trouble forever.”
“I hear you, and I know you’re right. He gotta stop this shit.”
“Yeah, man.” I glanced down at the notifications filling the screen of my phone—IG, Twitter, Facebook. Several were popping up every second.
“So, you ready for this game tonight? Y’all in Memphis, right? You think y’all gonna win?”
“Man, it’s always my goal to win, and I stay ready.”
Before I could respond, a text from Tommy popped up on my phone: Boss man, you seen that video yet?
I frowned. “Good to hear, man. Hey, let me hit you back.”
“A’ight. I’ll holla’ at you later.”
I texted Tommy back: What video?
I’d basically destroyed Esther’s phone that night, but the video she made could’ve been on her cloud. If she released that shit, her ass was mine. Then again, it couldn’t have been much more than voices. It was too dark in the bedroom for her to capture a decent image, but my voice was recognizable. If that motherf—
Tommy: Of Jo and old dude.
I froze in my seat. Jo and what dude?
Me: What dude? What they doing?
While I waited for Tommy to reply, I went to my IG notifications. Tons of folks had tagged me. I clicked on like ten of the notifications but kept getting a message that the content had been removed and wondered what the hell was going on. Then I decided to check my DMs, and that’s when I saw it.
Let Me Love You (McClain Brothers Book 1) Page 25
