Chapter 5
FIVE
My head has been swimming since Quintus Bako announced in my damn courtroom that he and I were married. Married. Actually-fucking-married. And there’s a damn video.
My life has been ransacked in a manner of hours, minutes really.
In a moment that I can’t seem to remember, I left the rooftop of The Metropolitan with him, accompanied him to his suite, and married him.
I logged into an internet marriage site and exchanged vows with him, a stranger.
This is definitely not how I imagined my big day.
In my mind, my wedding day would be special, a small and intimate ceremony with the man I love, my grandparents who raised me, and my small circle.
Cancer and loneliness took my grandparents from me five and three years ago, so sadly that part of my special day has changed, but nothing else had, at least not until late last night.
“Now tell me why I had to change the menu for tonight,” my best friend Giselle asks as she slides into her theater seat.
“We have to wait on Alex and Kyrah. I can’t repeat this shit more than once,” I admit, referring to my other besties.
When I say my small circle, I’m talking about these three phenomenal ladies who have been with me through every adult phase of my life—college, law school, heartbreak, the loss of my grandparents, and my election.
They celebrated all of my wins with me and comforted me through my losses.
I came into this world an only child, but our eleven-year friendship confirms I have three sisters for life.
“We all live in the same damn community. They should be here by now. Hell, Alex can walk,” Giselle quips. Alex also lives in the prominent Chandler Heights neighborhood and Kyrah lives in the east tower of The Millenium. Our condos are only twenty minutes from here.
“Bitch, yeah right. The day you walk is the day they walk,” I tell her, then grin.
She laughs too then sips her signature Patrón margarita.
I’m a bourbon girl, and normally Manhattans are my favorite, but not anymore.
Clearly, my Manhattans last night betrayed me and had me exchanging vows.
I’m drinking a Bourbon Sidecar and it’s delicious and much needed.
The bartender Giselle hired for tonight is truly a skilled mixologist. “I texted them both though. Kyrah is about to pull up and Alex will be here in ten.”
“Well, I’m not waiting to eat. Fried fish is meant to be eaten hot,” Giselle says.
“Fish? From where?” Kyrah calls out from the door of Giselle’s theater room.
“Phat Fish. Reya had a day from hell and wanted good, greasy, comfort food tonight,” Giselle reveals.
“Night and day from hell,” I clarify.
“Damn, what happened?” Kyrah asks with so much concern as she plops into her usual chair behind me.
“As soon as Alex gets here, I’ll tell you. It’s really too much to say over and over,” I tell her.
“Sounds vodka worthy,” Kyrah says. “Are the drinks good?”
“Good and strong,” I admit. “I better eat something to absorb mine.”
“I want it all, especially Phat Fish. I hope we got some of their corn nuggets,” Kyrah
says.
“I did. I got catfish sliders and the nuggets. Plus, there’s fried chicken and greens from Redmond’s and I even got steak frites and truffle fries from Diablo’s,” Giselle says.
“Well, shit! I’m about to be drunk and full as hell,” Kyrah says.
“Meeeee too,” I admit. My stomach is devoid of all food.
I haven’t had anything but my matcha today and I’m hungry.
My appetite disappeared after I learned of my drunken nuptials, but now that I’m here with my sisters, I can eat.
With them, I can eat, drink, cry, yell, laugh, whatever I want.
Because there’s no judgement among us, only strong opinions backed up by love.
“I’m here! Where’s the damn drinks?” Alex asks the moment she enters the room.
“Late and loud,” Giselle teases as we all walk to the food and bar area at the back of the room. As usual, everything we need is laid out perfectly.
“We started damn near two hours early. It’s a miracle I made it now,” Alex says with a smile.
Friday Night Foolishness is our weekly ritual.
As four successful and hardworking Black women, we have extremely busy and complicated lives.
Giselle owns an exclusive escort service that services Crescent Falls’s elite, rich, and even famous.
Kyrah is the Dean of the Walker Business College at CFU and Alex is a financial genius.
She’s CEO and owner of The Stansfield Investment Group and minority owner of the NBA champions, the Royals.
We’re busy but intentional, and every Friday night, we carve out this time to decompress, relax, and catch up.
When our plates are full and cups properly filled, we return to the chairs and get comfortable. At some point tonight, a movie will be played on the mounted, 135” curved screen, but not until we talk.
“So why the good, greasy food? Whose week was worse than mine?” Alex asks.
“What was wrong with your week?” I ask Alex but Giselle answers.
“Don’t try that, Reya. Your ass had me waiting thirty minutes to hear why you called me in a panic, sounding crazy and shit. You go first. What’s up?”
After filling my lungs with air and gathering my still scattered thoughts, I exhale and spill the news.
“You know I had the ball last night. I really didn’t want to go.
My grandparents were heavy on my mind plus the week had been rough with court and the nagging calls with Duke,” I say and Alex’s eyebrow pinches.
“Duke, my campaign manager,” I remind her.
“Shit! Tight pants,” Alex exclaims while shaking her head and I shake mine too. The brotha loves wearing tight ass pants.
“So I went, apparently got drunk as hell, and?—”
“Drunk?” Kyrah asks with too much surprise.
“My Manhattans,” I say.
“After drinking that Velvet Buzz?” Kyrah queries.
“What the hell is a damn Velvet Buzz?” Alex asks.
“That strong but good ass THC drink. Half a can and I’m chill and relaxing. I gave her one to try,” Kyrah says and I remember drinking the small can before heading to the ball.
Shit!
“Half? You didn’t say half. It was only eight ounces. I drank the whole damn thing,” I scoff.
While grinning, Kyrah asks, “Who told you to do that? Not me! I told you I usually drink half. Plus, the directions on the back, Your Honor, say four ounces are one serving. Girl, a whole one should have knocked you on your ass.”
“It did more than that. It caused me to marry a complete damn stranger,” I blurt.
“What!” Alex and Kyrah yell.
“Bitch, excuse me!” Giselle exclaims.
The exaggerated looks on their faces and utter shock in their voices almost match my initial reaction. Almost. Obviously, mine was more dramatic, shocking, and heart stopping.
Shaking my head, I say, “You heard me. Married.”
“I just… Friend, help me understand… Bitch, what?” Giselle stammers and she is never lost for words.
“Are you sure?” Alex asks.
“Oh, I’m sure. There’s a whole fucking video,” I admit.
“I know you’re lying. Play it,” Kyrah says and I stand.
My phone, tote, and overnight bag are in the guest room I typically occupy after too many drinks on FNF. While leaving my friends befuddled, I journey downstairs to get my phone. As soon as I disconnect it from the charger, I see a text from an unknown number.
107-655-2240: This is Quintus.
107-655-2240: When you’re ready to talk this out, I am.
I don’t have the energy or desire to respond to him right now. I’m still not in the headspace to deal with him or our dynamic. I need to talk this craziness out with my girls first. They know me better than anyone else and their words, opinions, and thoughts mean the world to me.
When I make it back upstairs, Kyrah is up getting more corn nuggets and Alex is refreshing her drink with the bartender.
Giselle is seated comfortably in her chair, eating and waiting on me.
Of the four of us, we are the closest. I actually met Giselle my junior year of undergrad.
She was recruiting girls for her new online business at The Quad, a popular spot near CFU.
I saw her flyer and went. I had no idea what her business was.
I simply saw free hookah, wings, and drinks for the first twenty-five girls to show, so I went.
Living on scholarships and financial aid wasn’t easy, so every little thing helped.
Hating to be late to anything, I was one of the first five to arrive.
That time before the main event allowed me to speak one on one with Giselle.
Although she was six years older than me, we connected.
She wasn’t a Crescent Falls native. In fact, she had just moved here two years prior.
She was working at Black Ops Specialty in the customer service division but had plans of leaving to be her own boss.
I quickly learned she was starting an online escort service and looking for a variety of smart, beautiful women.
While I was definitely a poor college student, I knew my end goal was law school, an internship at a prestigious law firm, and hopefully a seat on the bench one day.
Being an escort was not for me. I was scared to risk someone finding out and ruining my legal career.
However, Giselle has the gift of gab and can talk anyone into something at least once.
A few months later, she was in a bind. She enticed me into going on one date, dinner and drinks with an accountant for a thousand dollars.
It was uncomfortable at first but I enjoyed myself until I spotted my grandparents’ neighbors at the restaurant.
It was over for me, one and done, but she went on to build a million-dollar escort service.
Thankfully, it didn’t end our friendship.
We actually grew closer and she introduced me to Kyrah and Alex.
As soon as I’m back in my chair, she turns to me. “Are you okay?” she asks with so much concern.
“Honestly, I don’t know,” I admit.