I Gave Him My Heart

by Krystal Armstead

  “‘Knox’?” Nina looked at the both of us.

  I nodded. “You know I don’t like muthafuckas named ‘Tim’. If I was gonna have to deal with him at the expo, his name was gonna be ‘Knox’.”

  Nina grinned. “I can’t believe you know this dude!” She squealed. “I can’t wait to meet him! Invite him over for dinner! You have his number right?”

  I just looked at her like she was crazy.

  “Yes.” Fallon spoke up. “I got his number from Juan. And I gave Juan Kourtney’s number for him to call her.”

  I huffed. “Ugh! Y’all bitches can’t—”

  “Can’t what? Too late, boss lady; I already did!” Fallon laughed.

  “You’re fired.” I pouted. “I’m not going out with this little nigga, so y’all can just forget it. My pussy has been closed for business for eight months.”

  “Well,” Daniella laughed. “It’s about to have a grand opening sale in a few weeks!” Daniella and the rest of the crew at the shop burst out laughing. “Y’all should have seen the way that nigga was scoping her. When he gets that pussy, he’s gonna kill that pussy!”

  I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. “Y’all hoes are crazy.” I snickered to myself, watching Nina laugh so hard that there were tears in her eyes.

  “I’m happy for you.” Nina smiled at me, nudging me.

  I looked at her.

  “I’m happy for you about everything. Now, I have some real competition.” Nina grinned, throwing her arms around me. I’m telling you, it took everything in my soul to keep me from crying. That was the best hug I’d received in all my life. I didn’t want my boo upset that I was leaving her, even though I knew she was in her feelings that I was partnering up with Saint.

  ***

  Saint laughed out loud in his Maserati on New Year’s Eve, the day of the grand opening of Bébela. “So, did you enroll in the Knoxberry School of Arts or what, Ma?”

  I rolled my eyes at Saint. He was trippin’ off the story of my life. I didn’t see shit funny about it. “I went to check the school out back in November. I’d already enrolled in the school, way before I met Knox’s ass. It has nothing to do with him. I start on January 9th. Why the fuck are you laughing at me?”

  “Because, yo, you’re past all that shit that you’ve been through, Ma.” Saint leaned back in his seat. We were parked outside of Bébela. “You’ve come a long way from the girl who was molested by her own muthafuckin’ cousin. From the chick who was raped by her cousin’s boyfriend. From the girl who was hurt by the first nigga she’d ever loved. From the girl who just didn’t give a fuck. I know you’re tired of being lied to. Tired of being trapped in the middle of bullshit. You’re doing good, Ma.”

  I sighed. I’d never told anyone, not even Nina, all the shit I’d gone through. I didn’t think she could relate to my pain. I felt guilty. I felt lost. I felt abandoned. I felt… pain. “You know, I never told anyone about what my cousin did to me.” I whispered. “You’re the first person I’ve ever talked to about any of this.”

  “I’m always here to listen, hermana. If I can’t do anything else, I can listen,” Saint responded.

  “I appreciate that, hun, real talk. Most people just blow me off when I start talkin’, but you actually listen and that means a lot.” I was relieved to have gotten everything off my chest.

  Saint sighed. “You’ve been through a lot, Ma. I can see why you put your guards up, but you need to let ‘em down sometimes. You gotta confide in someone.”

  “I just confided in you, homie. I’m good.” I rolled my eyes, drying the tears from my face.

  Saint laughed a little. “I mean, someone other than me, your brutha.”

  I looked at him, loving the fact that he considered himself to be my brutha,

  “Knox, as you call him, is a good dude. Yeah, he’s a playa, but trust me, he’ll slow down for the right one.” Saint watched me roll my eyes. “He flew in this morning. He’s over at my nigga, Juan’s place.”

  I looked at Saint.

  Saint grinned.

  I shook my head. “I swear, if that nigga shows up to my party uninvited, I will beat’cha ass, Saint! Don’t play! He’s not even old enough to hang with us!”

  Saint laughed out loud. “You act like the nigga is in high school!”

  “He might as well be. What the fuck am I gonna do with someone that young? I don’t have time to be teaching a muthafucka.” I sighed. “Saint, I don’t have time for him. I have too much going on and so does that nigga.”

  “He’ll make time for you, I’m sure. He called me this morning, asking about you. Your girl, Lailah, said he called Mi Tinta last week, making an appointment with you.” Saint laughed at the ‘oh hell muthafuckin’ nah’ expression on my face. “That nigga isn’t tryin’ to stay in that friend zone. This nigga is persistent. You know how we roll, Ma.”

  “Ugh, don’t remind me.” I shrunk back in my chair. “This is payback for me pushing you and Nina together. It’s that bitch-ass Karma. Man, I hate that bitch!”

  Saint laughed. “You’re gonna be a’ight, Ma.”

  I looked at Saint, his eyes smiling. “You coming to my party tonight?” I watched Saint shaking his head. “Boo, you have to be there! The only reason I got the confidence to do any of this shit was because of you! I’m running a bar here in Punta Cana, a club with Young in Baltimore, and I have my very own tattoo shop! I’m doing it big, and it’s all because of you, bruh!” I shoved him in his arm. “You’re my nigga. And I can’t see myself throwing an opening without you, my hitta.”

  Saint grinned, tears in his eyes. “I might roll through.”

  I nodded, “That’s more like it. We’re on that black and white suit and tie shit tonight, boo. So you betta represent.”

  “Oh, you already know.” Saint had that ‘you betta recognize’ look on his face.

  So, there I was that night, standing in front of the full-length mirror in my hallway, eying myself in my tight, white, strapless, mini-dress and white Christian Louboutin red-bottoms. Pretty helped flat iron my hair that night. All my girls stood outside of my house, waiting for Saint’s limo to come pick us up. My crew looked so fly. My girls from G-Boro and B-More were gonna be in the spot. We were about to turn my bar the fuck out that night. People from all over were rollin’ through the spot; not to mention, a few of our customers who went to our shop in Goldsboro had flown in to show their love. I was nervous out of my mind, even though they all told me that I had nothing to worry about. Nina didn’t make it to my house that evening. Nina was at home, still waiting on Ricque to make it back. You already know she wasn’t going anywhere without him. That was probably what had me really on edge. I needed that girl by my side, but she needed to know that Ricque was safe. Every time he left her, I think that girl held her breath until he made it back to her.

  “Boo,” Pretty called out to me from my front door. “Our ride is here!”

  I sighed, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I smiled big to make sure my merlot-colored lipstick wasn’t on my teeth. I grabbed my clutch purse from the bookshelf in the hallway and hurried towards the door. When I got to my doorway, I stopped in my tracks, almost tripping over my own Red Bottoms. There, at the foot of my steps, stood Knox. He stood there in a crisp, European cut, black suit and leather shoes. He had a black bow tie underneath his crisp, white collar. Black Cartier shades covered his eyes. Oh, his haircut was on point. His waves were perfect. His sideburns were perfect. That goatee was trimmed to perfection. He was classic. Not too much jewelry, just diamond studs on his ears and a black and chrome Cartier watch wrapped around his wrist.

  I sighed, watching my girls making their way to the limo as it pulled up in my circular driveway. I glanced over at his chrome Bentley Flying Spur parked in my driveway. Then, I looked at Knox and the velvet heart shaped box that he held in his hands.

  Knox grinned at me as I made my way down my porch steps to meet him at the foot of the steps.

  I got to him,
looking up at him as he removed his shades. I glanced over at the limo as it made its way out of my parking lot, leaving me to have no choice but to show up at the opening of my bar with Knox. The press was about to be at my club. Trench Carter, from Reelz TV, and a few more of his co-producers were about to film a few scenes from my opening. I agreed to do the show as long as they promised to give my tattoo artists from both my shop and Nina’s some airtime. Willimena, Sophie,and a few more of the Nicolas girls were going to be at the bar. They were all so rich and bougie. I was so hood compared to all of them, which is probably why they wanted me on the show. They thought I was going to bring the drama. The opening of my bar was important. I really didn’t have time to mingle with Knox. But there he was. Looking good as a muthafucka at that.

  “What’s up, Chambers?” Knox removed the shades from his face.

  I looked up at him, trying my best not to smile. “Who are you supposed to be? My prince coming to take me to the ball? This event is thirty and over, boo. Sorry.”

  Knox grinned, sticking his shades in his pocket. “You look beautiful tonight. I just thought you might have wanted some fly to match your fly. I clean up nice, huh?” Knox brushed off his shoulder.

  I rolled my eyes, even though I agreed. I looked him over a little. “Wh-What’s in the box?” I looked down at the box and then back up in his face.

  Knox’s eyes were dancing through my bone-straight strands of hair. “Huh? Oh, just a li’l’ something I think you’ll find useful. After tonight, you might need it. Wait until the night is over to open it, a’ight?”

  I just looked up into this little nigga’s face, wondering what made him tick. Why would he waste his time on a nobody like me? I was only someone because of Nina. Because of the man she was married to. Saint invested in me probably because he felt sorry for me. Probably because he could feel my pain. I wasn’t so sure what Knox saw in me. He was a billionaire who shouldn’t have had a care in the world. He spent months abroad and was only stateside a few times out of the year, according to Fallon and Saint. He made money in his sleep. He was booked for events years in advance. He could paint any and everything from memory. He didn’t have any kids. And he wasn’t seeing anyone in particular. He would have been perfect if he weren’t so young. Young niggas were needy, and I didn’t have time for needy muthafuckas. Yet and still, I couldn’t ignore the fact that he came to my house to take me to the grand opening of my bar.

  “I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to come to the DR, boo, but Reelz TV is about to be here tonight. Judging by the fact that your face isn’t anywhere out there in the media world, I’m not sure this is where you want to be tonight.” I looked up into his face.

  “Nobody knows a nigga at this grand opening, right? No one who isn’t your friend or who doesn’t know that I keep to myself. Saint knows how I am. Saint knows where I’m from. The paparazzi doesn’t know me. Reelz TV doesn’t know me. My family kept my identity under wraps this long, Kourtney. Do you think I’m about to break their tradition after twenty-six years?” Knox scoffed.

  I looked up at him. “Well, judging by the fact that you’re here right now to take me to my bar where hundreds of people, not to mention the press and paparazzi, will be, I’m not so sure.”

  “Enough about me. Let’s talk about you.” Knox changed the subject.

  I shook my head. “No, I wanna know about you. Like, why did you come here tonight? Huh?” I had to know.

  Knox looked at me. “Have you ever been in a room full of hundreds of people but still felt like you were in the world all by yourself?”

  I just looked into his face. That was the exact way I felt the day that I met him at the expo in Raleigh. And he knew it, too.

  “Nobody really understands a nigga, Kourtney. I’m tired of hiding. You’re the push I need. And I just might be yours. Reelz TV is going to expose all of your weaknesses, Kourtney. Everything you don’t want them to know, somehow, they’re going to know that shit. When the night is over, you’re gonna wanna open that gift. Shit, we might need to open it together.” Knox took the shades from his pocket, and slid them onto his face before sliding the velvet box into his pocket. “You ready, Chambers?” He held out his hand for me to take it.

  I hesitated.

  And Knox grabbed my hand anyway, intertwining his fingers in mine. I was scared out of my mind. I needed Nina and Knox knew it, too. I was so mean to that boy, but when I really needed someone to literally hold my hand, he was there for me.

  “You’re not alone, Kourtney,” Knox let me know, squeezing his hand in mine. “Just remember that when these cameras and reporters are in your face tonight, relax, breathe, and try not to punch anyone in the face.”

  Knox and I pulled up to the red carpet in front of Bébela that night. I was in awe of the size of the crowd waiting outside of my bar to get in. You would have thought it was a club rather than a bar. I took a deep breath before stepping out of Knox’s ride. As soon as my white Red Bottoms touched the red carpet, the crowd went wild. The attention was on me at first; cameras were flashing, people were calling my name, the press was asking who designed my outfit. But as soon as Knox hit the carpet, grabbing my hand in his, the attention was on him.

  “Kourtney, is this your boyfriend? What’s his name? How long have you been dating? Kourtney, are you two engaged?” Cameras flashed on us.

  Knox grinned, walking hand and hand with me into my bar. “Breathe…” Knox leaned over and whispered in my ear as we walked through the entrance.

  I sighed a long, deep sigh as I strolled into the bar with Knox that night. We were stopped in the entrance by another group of reporters, who asked us to pose for the cameras. I could feel the warmth from Knox’s hand as he slid his hand around my waist. We leaned in, cheeks touching, smiling for the cameras.

  “So, Kourtney Chambers, who’s your new boyfriend?” I heard a familiar voice behind us.

  My heart jumped as I turned around to see Niq’ sitting at a table with a group of people, Peanut and Brittanie were among them.

  I hesitated, not really sure what to say. I couldn’t believe the muthafucka had the nerve to show up to my opening. The last I’d seen any of the three of them was at Nina’s wedding, going on fuckin’ thirteen months ago. I should have known they would show up. Trench Carter was friends with Niq’ and probably told him when I gave him the okay to film my bar for the pilot of the show. Knox told me they’d create drama, and it was already beginning. Fuck.

  “Tim.” Knox spoke up, removing his shades.

  Niq’ scoffed, looking Knox over. “ ‘Tim?’ That’s it? ‘Tim’? The fuck you do, Tim?”

  Knox laughed a little. “You see this bar? I helped with the design; as a matter of fact, I designed it.”

  I looked at Knox, heart palpitating in my chest. I looked around the room, feeling dumb as hell. He wasn’t lying. The murals and paintings on the wall all bore his signature on the far left or right corner. Knox was a beast with the paintbrush. And he was about to shove that shit in Niq’s face.

  “You see the paintings on the wall? That’s all me, homie. That’s what the fuck I do.” Knox snarled at Niq’ and his crew, cameras flashing on us. “Timothy Knoxberry, my nigga. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

  Niq’ shrunk back in his chair.

  You should have seen the looks on Peanut’s and Brittanie’s faces, shit, their entire clique’s faces.

  The camera crew stopped flashing their cameras for a second to hear the words come out of his mouth again.

  “Timothy Knoxberry? Did he just say Timothy Knoxberry?” I heard one of the camera men say.

  “Timothy Knoxberry?” Brittanie’s eyes widened, shaking her head in disbelief. “As in the Knoxberry School of Arts? As in Life Styles of the Rich and Famous Knoxberry family who owns half of the houses in Beverly Hills?”

  “My father is King Knoxberry,” Knox told Brittanie, a person who you couldn’t tell shit to without her telling the got-damn world.

&nbs
p; Brittanie’s eyes widened. “I work for King Knoxberry! I’m his personal assistant! He has a son? A black son?”

  “Okay, enough with the questions, y’all.” I pulled Knox away from the table.

  “Let the show begin.” Knox laughed under his breath.

  All of my girls from Insertion, Mi Tinta, and Tatted Up were there. Not to mention, my employees from Young Chambers and our bar in Goldsboro, Shots, were there. My girls were ready to turn up, and I was so ready to turn down. Nina still hadn’t shown up. Saint was even there with his crew to show his support. You already know that nigga showed up and showed out, looking so debonair and suave. He was happier than a muthafucka to see Knox with me that night and took him off my hands for a few moments while I talked with the crew from Reelz TV in my conference room. Saint not only built an immaculate kitchen for my bar, but he built a recovery room for the muthafuckas who were too drunk to drive home and a conference room for me to do business.

  “Okay, honey, relax and breath.” Trench’s assistant, Brianna, clipped a mini-microphone to my dress. “Testing.” She spoke in the microphone.

  I sighed, watching my girls and Nina’s in-laws get prepped for the show.

  “Just act natural and everything will flow just fine.” Brianna assured me. “We’re just shooting a few scenes from your opening night here to use for the pilot. We’re flying to Baltimore next week to shoot a few scenes from your club and your tattoo shop. Your club opens on January 18th, and your shop opens February 1st, right? What about your house in Pasadena? Is that finished?”

  I nodded yes to all three questions.

  “You look amazing.” Trench smiled at me as he walked up to me and my girls. He was the cutest white boy I’d ever seen. He had a headful of black curly hair, bright blue eyes, and dimples from heaven.

  I sighed. “I feel like shit. My sista isn’t here yet. We’re about to make an opening speech, and my sista isn’t here yet!”