Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
A WEEK LATER
Kennedi sat across from Giovanni in his office, one hand resting protectively over her stomach beneath the table where he couldn’t see.
Just into her fifth month. The blazer was working overtime, and she swore her stomach had grown in the last week alone.
Secrets this big didn’t stay hidden forever, and her body reminded her of that daily.
“Good lookin’ for coming through,” Giovanni said, leaning back in his chair. “Welcome back. How was Colorado?”
“It was good. Productive. I’m glad to be home, though. There’s nothing like it.”
“I feel you. Paige ain’t stopped going on about how she can’t wait to see you. She missed you. They all did.”
She smiled. She couldn’t wait to catch up. She had so much to tell them.
“And my bad about the delay in thanking you face to face for the work you did on the premiere. Shit has been crazy since we got back.”
“No thanks needed. That premiere gave me the blueprint for what I want TKL to become. So really, I should be thanking you.”
She meant every word. The premiere had launched her into a room she’d been trying to get into for years. But it had also launched her into Rolani Pracher’s arms, and that part she kept to herself.
“That Beyond the Game special was crazy, Ken. For real. You made them look like real people. That ain’t easy to do with niggas at that level.”
“I work hard to get to the core of people. Most journalists want the headline. I want the thing behind the thing. DaVinci and Halo trusted me to see what others wouldn’t, and that’s why the piece worked.”
Giovanni nodded, sliding a folder across the desk.
“With that said, this is the contract. I want you to produce a docu-series on us. The whole story — the shop, the culture, Idle Hands. Giovanni got his premiere. Now I want the world to see the rest of it. You’d have full creative control.
Your vision, your direction, your project.
We’re funding it and giving you access.”
She pulled the folder toward her, flipping through the pages even though her mind barely processed the words.
This was everything she’d been chasing. Creative freedom.
A docu-series she could build from the ground up.
The storytelling she’d dreamed about since journalism school, before newsrooms boxed her into segments and soundbites and decided Black stories only mattered when they were tragic. This was the opposite of that.
“The premiere showed the world, Giovanni. But Ro is the other half of this thing, and nobody’s heard his side yet. The paint work, the clients, making Idle Hands his focus, and how he operates. That’s the story people don’t know. And that’s the one I need you to tell.”
All she could think about was the fact that she’d be working under Rolani. Shadowing him. In his space every single day.
Giovanni continued, tapping the page. “The money good?”
“Huh?”
“I ask because Ro pushed for the increase. He said we gotta be competitive. Can’t have her taking offers somewhere else. His words were, ‘Make it so she can’t leave.’ So I hope that’s good for you.”
Her hand stilled on the page. Make it so she can’t leave. Rolani had slipped a message into a salary negotiation that only she would understand, and the precision of it made her neck tighten. She caught herself before her hand moved to her stomach and kept it flat on the folder.
“The money is perfect. And I don’t say that lightly because I know my value. I won’t let you down, Gio.”
“No worries from me. I trust you, and I don’t trust easily. Paige vouched for you. I trust my wife, so I believe you belong here.”
“Do I have a boss?”
Giovanni’s lips twitched like he enjoyed dropping bombs.
“Ro.” That one syllable split her open. Of course, it would be him.
“He’s handling the creative side of things right now until Spirit relocates to take that over full-time.
So for the time being, you’d be answering to him on scheduling and stuff.
He knows the business inside out. The nigga don’t forget shit. ”
She smoothed her face over without missing a beat. “That’s fine. I can work with anyone.”
Giovanni studied her for a moment too long, checking her temperature. “Ro’s cool. He may look mean, but he’s a good dude. Real protective, quiet, but solid.”
She almost laughed. Protective didn’t even begin to cover Rolani Pracher. The man had pulled a gun on someone for touching her. What the hell was he going to do when he found out she was carrying his child?
“Speaking of, you already set up that radio thing for him next week, right? He said you hadn’t hit him yet.”
She nodded. “Yeah, it’s locked in. Before I start filming, I want people to already be talking about the story beyond the premiere. The radio interview builds the audience before the series drops. By the time we release the first episode, people are already invested.”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about. You're thinking three steps ahead.” Giovanni grinned. “Y’all gonna be straight together. He’s been moving differently since LA, but I think having you around gon’ help. You got that vibe about you.”
Since LA. Since she disappeared from his city, his orbit, his life. Giovanni didn’t know the half of it, but the words still landed.
“When do I officially start?” she asked, redirecting.
“Whenever you’re ready. You can start shadowing him this week if you want. Sit in at the shop, watch how he works with clients, and meet the people around the business. The deeper you go, the better the series will be.”
She nodded slowly, her mind already racing through how this would play out. Seeing him for the first time since the club. Working next to him. Pretending nothing had happened while her body carried the evidence of everything that had.
“I’ll reach out to him and lock in a time.”
Giovanni chuckled. “Yeah. Probably gonna be sick of each other by the end. Nigga got a lot of shit he’s handling.”
That was news to her.
She stood, tucked the folder under her arm, and dapped Giovanni up. “I appreciate this, Gio. For real.”
“You earned it, Ken. Keep doing what you do.”
By the time the meeting wrapped and she pushed through the heavy glass door and slipped on her sunglasses, her phone buzzed in her bag. She jumped from the unsettled nerves.
Ro: Welcome to the team, Mrs. Pracher. I’ll be seeing you.
Her hands grew clammy. She shoved the phone into her bag.
She’d been disappointed he wasn’t at the meeting.
And maybe that was better. Maybe she needed more time.
But time was running out. She still had no idea how to tell Rolani Pracher that the one night he’d promised would turn into forever was about to become a whole lot more permanent than either of them had planned.
She drove to Luther’s with her hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary.
Everything in Coupeville looked the same, but she saw it differently now.
When you’re young, all you want is to get out.
As she grew older, as the world revealed its true nature, she came to understand the comfort of knowing every street corner.
She’d been all around the world, told who she was by people who barely knew her.
Home didn’t do that. Home remembered her before she had to prove anything.
But home also held the one person she still owed the truth.
She grabbed her phone and read the text over. He was always doing the most. Possessive.
She couldn’t stand him.
That was a lie.
But she couldn’t stand how much she liked it.
Because the moment she reached out, the moment she saw him again, everything would become real. The pregnancy. The silence. The three months she’d spent convincing herself that distance could fix what she’d already complicated.
She placed the phone in her bag, got out of the car, and decided the spiral could wait.
“One thing at a time,” she muttered.
By the time she slid into the booth at Luther’s, she already knew they could see something was up. Carmen’s eyes narrowed immediately. Isha’s smile was too careful. Shadow leaned back with her wine glass, studying Kennedi like she was a case that needed solving. Paige was squinting hard as hell.
Carmen didn’t even let her breathe before she started. One brow arched over her glasses, mouth already smirking. “Mmhm. Something is definitely off.”
Kennedi rolled her eyes at the self-proclaimed psychic of the friend group.
“Can a bitch sit down first?”
Isha was already buttering her bread, lips curving like she’d been waiting on this moment. “You can sit. But you can’t hide, boo.”
Kennedi flagged the server for water with extra lemon, and the table went quiet.
“Hhm, we ordered you a sidecar.”
“Oh, thanks y’all,” Kennedi said as the server dropped off her water.
Shadow’s eyes dropped to the water glass, then back to Kennedi’s face. She leaned forward, eyes sharp. “Is it Southside’s finest?”
“What?” Paige asked, still not catching on.
“Water. Extra lemon. No sidecar.” Shadow set her wine down slowly. “Ken, you let that man get you pregnant?”
The word hung between them.
Kennedi scratched her neck and looked at them before she nodded once.
The booth lost its mind.
Isha’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my god, Ken.”
Kennedi pressed her palms to her face, her laugh coming out thin and broken. “And yes. It’s Rolani’s.”
The whole booth went silent for a beat, then exploded again.
Paige still hadn’t said anything. Rolani had been beating down her door trying to get details on Kennedi, and now Paige knew why she’d gone radio silent.
Carmen leaned back slowly. “You’re pregnant. And didn’t tell us.”
Kennedi kissed her teeth, “I know. I should’ve told y’all sooner, but I didn’t know what to say. I barely knew what to do with the information myself.”
“Does he know?” Isha asked quietly, her mama-bear stare cutting clean through Kennedi’s defenses.
Kennedi shook her head. “No. And before y’all start, I know I need to tell him. I just… I don’t know how.”