Haywood Millionaire Series: Box Set Books 1-5

by Zi'ere

  My attention went to the job we were on the way to. Even though I never wore other designer’s clothing, I always wanted to know what the competition was up too. Representing our fashion line was easy for the two of us. We would also be killing two birds with one stone because we also had to support the modeling agency we were silent partners in. Zoey always ended up with two of the extravagant gift bags that contained clothing and cosmetic samples that would be given away to the key VIP’s. Our best friends Emani and Amina Barton, where going to be there to monitor the quality of the models they had been hired by contract. Barton Modeling Agency models would be the only bodies used in today’s show which was monumental because we specialized in African American models. We were a team, intent on changing the face of fashion around the globe before we closed our eyes for the final time. Fashion show events wouldn’t be classified as being a success if one, or not all four of us were not in attendance. Naturally the four of us would be seated together during the show.

  It didn’t matter if the show was during fashion week in New York, Miami, Milan, or Hollywood; the Jefferies and Barton girls had to be there. In our line of business the impression had to always stand as being a friendly ally. Being unfriendly and standoffish would get any corporation black balled bringing your relevancy to the industry down to zero. It was important that we all stayed relevant in our professional fields. In addition to running a successful corporation, we had to rub elbows, and issue cheek to cheek kisses with designers of the like of Patrick Kelly, Kevan Hall, Bryon Lars, and B. Michael.

  I noticed that Zoey was being especially quite ever sense we had gotten into the car. Knowing her all too well I could only imagine she was still pissy with me because I had cancelled our lunch date and instead of me making things right between us I was pretending to be chatting with Que. Even though the two had never met or had even talked to each other, I had to admit neither was excited about the existence of the other. Mekhi and I had always gotten along just fine in front of Zoey but behind her back was another story altogether. I recognized Mekhi as the opportunist that he was raised to be. My relationship with Que was far from normal, but it wasn’t built on quick sand compared to Zoey and Mekhi. So much emphasis was placed on my affairs, that nobody could see the snakes slithering around but me. Que had no reason to use me or my name and latch onto me. So there was no way we could act in the same manner as everyone else. With my crazy schedule and Que’s abnormal working hours, we had to spend time talking, texting, or skyping each other as much as we could, whenever we could. That was the meat and bones of our relationship. We had no future without constant communication.

  I wanted Que to confirm that he was still on track to fly into the city for the weekend. I wanted to make sure Yvette had his arrival times or possible delay times on Friday. Instead he abruptly responded with a short and meaningless message saying that he was too busy to talk at the moment. We exchanged quick good bye messages with smiley faces at the end even though I was not smiling. I logged out of my social media account and powered down the iPad, placing it inside of my bag. I began to give Zoey a look over making sure everything about her outfit, hair, and shoes were perfect. She pretended not to notice me until she shot me a final dagger to cease my movement. I then started to give myself a once over. I reapplied some lip gloss and popped a peppermint in my mouth. Shortly thereafter we were in single lane, bumper to bumper traffic.

  “Goodness! Thank God we decided to come early. I feel bad for anyone trying to get here on time.” I might as well have been talking to myself because Zoey did not respond.

  “I have this process down to a science now Laini.” Liam spoke softly as he continued to crawl to the valet.

  Because he would walk the red carpet with us, Liam had to be dressed to perfection just like Zoey and I. In all the years he had been by my side in every move I made in public, I had never had to tell him how to dress. The man had finesse that made me question whether or not I was over paying him. I also began to wonder how he found the time to shop for such fine threads since keeping up with me was an around the clock, country to country job. No matter what he chose to cover his body in, the man was a beast. In no way shape or form was he against correcting anyone who posed even the smallest threat to me. For that fact alone I felt that maybe he wasn’t being paid enough. All of the trouble I had ever been in had been totally my fault and totally avoidable. I locked my sight on the back of Liam’s head. I wondered what was going on with his personal affairs. I began to feel an emotion I had never felt towards Liam, territorial.

  “You do your job very well good sir.” We locked eyes in the rearview mirror. I felt warmth on the insides of my thighs.

  10

  Zoey

  I was absolutely certain that my sister knew that I was too through her dismissive attitude and the need to be so secretive with me. I always found out all of her personal business sooner rather than later, I was the best little sister a girl could ask for. But, with Laini I had to pick my battles to win the wars. So I had decided that I would not utter another word to her until she came clean. After she had finished her love making via the internet messaging for the evening, she began to fidget in her seat beside me. I paid her no attention and threw myself into the countless emails on the screen of my Blackberry. I could tell that she wanted to small talk, but there was an elephant seated between us and it wasn’t my Hermes Birkin bag. Of course I knew she might want to discuss the fact that I chose such a noticeable bag to hang on my arm on the red carpet. The bag was thirty-five centimeters of black top Togo leather finished with gold hardware. It had set me back fifteen thousand dollars. There was no way I wasn’t going to show it off. Besides, there would be no pointless small talk between us until we had thoroughly discussed the true issues at hand. In this very second she was beginning to get on my last good nerve attempting to straighten my clothing as I sat still. I finally gave her the stank eye which she caught rather quickly, making her snatch her hands away from my body.

  I had no idea what she could straighten out concerning the outfit I had chosen for the night anyway. There really wasn’t much too the black and white wrap dress that showed more cleavage than material in the chest. The wrap was secured by a black leather buckle with gold accents. I wore a pair of black, pointed toe sling back stilettos. The entire look screamed sexy with a little bit of professionalism added to the hem. Amina had professionally beaten all of our faces to makeup artist perfection before we left the office, so our make-up was dramatically on point. I felt like I was worth every penny that was in my bank accounts. My entire ensemble including jewelry, but minus the bag and shoes had been designed by Laini for Purple Label. Laini had safely secured us both on the best dressed list once again.

  I didn’t have much hair so I knew that the look I had just witnessed between her and Liam wasn’t just all in my head. Maybe things were moving more than I initially thought. Despite the chemistry, I knew she would never act out on it because she had dedicated her heart to Quese. Not a moment too soon we were pulled from the back seat of the car. As soon as our faces could be spotted there was the constant commotion of hearing hundreds of cameras snapping and the effects of just as many flashes of bright lights. All strife was forgotten as Laini and I stood arm in arm holding each other as we were photographed from every possible angle. We took the time to give the media what they wanted. We smiled million dollar smiles while answering questions about what designer had dressed us for the night. I remained silent as my big sis pitched her infamous brand. It took an hour for us to walk the red carpet, be interviewed, and photographed. During events such as this the four of us would split up and walk with our sisters. It gave us a chance to speak on our main business separately and put more focus on two at a time instead of the confusion of interviewing four at a time.

  Laini had laid down the law with all of us a long time ago, even making us sign legal documents regarding our attire for any such occasion as a fashion show. We, the three of us could only wear
Purple Label on the red carpet. Amina’s tall frame was adorned in a business look but still looked elegant enough for pictures to circulate around the world. She wore a deep turquoise romper jumper with a wide leg bottom with a neckline that was low enough to show off the nice rack she now had after giving birth. Amina was no stranger to high heels regardless of her height and she wore signature Purple Label pumps to match. Her hair was pulled up into an elegant chignon which made the diamonds in her ears and around her neck pop. Emani had chosen a newly created Purple Label black long sleeved peplum dress that stopped mid- thigh. The top of the neckline and the sleeves were all black lace. The few curves she had were on display and she looked like all of the business she really was. She also wore black Purple Label stiletto closed toe pumps that showed a little toe cleavage. Her hair that I had made fun of before was now done to perfection in a loosely curled roller wrap. I still wasn’t impressed with her.

  Liam hung back but could still be considered a human shield the entire time. By the time we made it to our seats I was exhausted. I was convinced we needed to eliminate working a full day and then appearing at a fashion show the same night. I was getting too old for the constant miles I put on my body. Seated on the front row of the VIP section, the essence of each set of twins outside beauty was being displayed. You would really have to be close to us all to know that while it looked like we were casually checking out the show, we were actually taking mental notes to bring back to the office the next day. Emani had pointed out the weakest and strongest models we had in the show. From the way she rubbed her temple I knew the thin girl would be out of a job first thing in the morning. The perfectionist traits in our big sisters were not lost on Amina nor I. We definitely had more relaxed business practices but neither of us could deny that our sisters were the best at what they did.

  As the designer came out and curtsied for the crowd we had already exchanged knowing glances at each other that silently co-signed that we all were ready to go, there would be no after partying at the reception. Now that Emani and Amina had families I was not surprised by the fact that they were ready to step into their most cherished roles, but Laini had no excuse. We all made a swift bee line for the door, bodyguards in tow. When Laini reached the door she had almost knocked Mekhi’s shoulder off his body. She was so distracted with texting and walking she never even looked into his face after the rude interaction. I could only shake my head and apologize for her behavior. He had been in our lives for a long time and he knew firsthand how Laini could be sometimes. Instead of coming to pick me up from the show, Mekhi had come dressed to mingle. I let him talk me into staying to attend the reception once the other girls were in route to their respective homes. Laini hopped into the backseat of her car without a single salutation or hand gesture to anyone. She had truly dry humped my last nerve for the day so I didn’t put up a fight about the public display of affection when Mekhi pulled me into his arms. He knew I detested my personal affairs being aired out in public. Laini’s media attention was enough for the both of us.

  11

  Laini

  “Laini a special delivery envelope just arrived by messenger for you, do you want me to bring it to you now or save it until after lunch?” Yvette, my executive assistant spoke in a hushed professional tone over the intercom.

  “Umm, save it until after lunch. I’m starving and if I’m late again the girls are going to skin me alive. Can you make sure Liam is ready and then step into my office for a quick second?”

  “You got it boss.”

  A few seconds later the thirty year old mother of two stepped into my oversized office. It was safe to say that she was addicted to Purple Label more than I was. Today she wore a black button down short sleeve shirt, paired with black and white striped bell bottomed pants. On her feet she wore a sensible pair of Purple Label plumps. By sensible I mean that the heel was half of the height mine of mine. She was dressed simple and comfortable to be able to complete any task I could give her throughout the day. I, on the other hand was a believer that pain in the name of fierce fashion was worth it.

  Because we were so close in age I insisted that she call me by my first name. I ran a corporation but Yvette ran a single parent household that consisted of a six year old son, a twelve year old daughter, and her sick mother. Her daily schedule was crazier than mine. Yvette had been with me for only three short years but we had formed a tight friendship over the years. I had taken a quick liking and bond to her kids Malik and Crystal as well. My former assistant had been the first and only assistant to my mom when the company was first started. Four years ago she decided to retire but before she left she hired and trained Yvette to my liking personality wise and professionally.

  “What’s going on Boss Lady? You do know that you have exactly five minutes before you need to be seated in that car waiting downstairs.” As usual she had my every move locked in down to the very second in each minute of the day.

  “I have a little surprise for you. You know I wasn’t going to forget that you and some of the other ladies were going to do speed dating tonight. I can’t let my prize executive assistant set her sights on a potential husband without looking brand new. That box over there is for you.”

  I nodded toward the black long rectangular box that sat on the coffee table with a huge purple bow around it. Yvette knew by the packaging alone the contents were a Purple Label exclusive made just for her, no matter what it was.

  “Laini no; you’ve done too much for me already! I can’t possibly take another gift from you for the rest of the year! The other ladies are beginning to talk.” Yvette folded her arms across her chest.

  I reached across my desk to grab a purple squared post it note along with my favorite Purple Label fountain pen. I sat both items on the edge of my desk closest to her.

  “Make my day and write down the names of anyone who has so much as looked at you cross eyed as a result of something I have done for you!”

  “You know I’m not a snitch. I’m a protector and secret keeper.” Her demeanor relaxed, she knew I believed she remained confidential about the goings on in the office.

  “Well, glad to heart that. So it’s on to the next.”

  “No offense Laini, but you have been too generous as it is. I can’t accept anything else outside of my paycheck.” She made a move away from the box.

  I was unsure what kind of courage she had spiked her morning coffee with that had her walking on a tightrope with me. I rose a freshly and perfectly shaped eyebrow as she spoke.

  “Yvette you don’t tell me what to do with my money, designs, or inventory. Whereas I am all but shoving whatever it is in that box down your throat right now, I know I can go to the fifteenth floor and find someone who would have no problem taking a gift from me. I have somewhere to be. Open the box.” She watched my finger point to her then the box.

  She made her way to the table, totally relented to the fact that I could pull rank. Not to mention, she really didn’t want to see anyone else in an outfit I had designed especially for her. The sternness in my face put a stop to her opinions being voiced in my office. Yvette was a good person. She was a God fearing woman and I believed she was committed to her faith. Even though she was a widow, she did not live the life of a normal single thirty year old woman. She was however married to me, her job, her kids, and the Lord. From day one she began to have an effect on how I lived my life. The wild, partying every weekend, take your man Laini was gone. I now knew that I deserved that one man God made especially for me.

  The fact of the matter is that I have led an extraordinary life. I have been privileged and catered to since conception. I had more financial resources and social connects to last me the rest of my life. My children’s grandchildren would be wealthy as well even if their parents never worked a day. I needed all the good deeds I completed to even out the havoc I had been plagued with for years. Cupid had been unkind to me thus leaving my personal affairs on shaky ground. I sat back in the plush mahogany colored leather chai
r and watched as Yvette tore into the purple tissue paper. She pulled out a black body con dress that was designed to stop just below her knee caps. Even though the outfit was little black dress classified, there was drama in the back of it. The more the clock ticked I could see that Yvette was going to put up a fight.

  “Laini you know good and well I am not about to wear something so tight and form fitting. Messing around with you I will come home from speed dating pregnant!”

  “Yea, see the problem is that I know you too well. All I’m saying is that if you don’t wear the dress you won’t be able to wear these….”

  I reached down on the floor beside me to retrieve another black box. This box was a signature shoe box that Yvette coveted. Shoes were her weakness. The box was also jet black and the top was a deep satin material with a black satin bow fitted over the cardboard served as the top for the box. A picture of the shoe from two different angles along with the shoe size was listed on one end of the box and the words ‘Purple Label’ were spelled out on the other end. Just as the infamous red bottom shoe was recognized anywhere, the bottom of a Purple Label shoe was recognizable as well. The bottom of every shoe designed by the company was jet black with a satin purple strip of material centered with the words ‘Purple Label’ were monogramed in a fancy cursive font. I sat the box on the top of my desk and shuffled around in the purple tissue paper and pulled out a black platform peep toe heel that had the same crisscrossing detailing across the top of the shoe that matched the back of the dress. There was no chance in hell Yvette was going to leave my office without those shoes.