Chapter 21 Maverick
CHAPTER 21
MAVERICK
I knew these ladies were bright, but Kashawn, Nelly, and Hendrix are sponges exploring the cannabis growery, absorbing every detail of the tour. The three of them are taking notes on their phones, capturing photos and videos, and asking Dan, the president of CBD Pharms, all their questions.
“And this is climate-controlled?” Kashawn asks, squinting at the vents overhead.
“Yup,” Dan answers, his shiny black hair slicked into a braid that falls to the middle of his back. “If your founder is growing at a higher altitude, he—”
“She,” Hendrix corrects with a smile, walking alongside Dan up a row of plants in the greenhouse. “All our founders are she.”
“Sorry,” Dan chuckles. “ She’ll want to create a microclimate by using a hoop house or a greenhouse.”
They pelt Dan with more questions, and he fields them all. He was one of the first growers I invested in. An Indigenous farmer looking to pivot away from traditional crops and methods to a new market, he proved to be a great litmus test for this kind of investment.
While the ladies study the greenhouse and the myriad parts that make this operation work, I study Hendrix. I can’t stop. I keep surreptitiously seeking her out. The moment we shared on the plane, her crying—it was intense and I haven’t been able to move on from the way I felt tied to her, not just by our shared experience, but by something deeper.
“If you’d like,” Dan says, “feel free to send over the specs for the founder you’re considering and I’ll look them over for you. Give you my assessment of whether she’s ready, where she might need to make adjustments, what are the biggest risk factors, et cetera…”
“Seriously?” Kashawn gapes. “You’d do that?”
“Sure.” Dan shrugs and shifts his gaze to me. “Any friend of Mr. Bell is a friend of mine. None of what you see here would be possible without him believing in me and investing years ago.”
“Don’t make me sound so altruistic,” I say wryly. “I’m a businessman first and saw a fantastic opportunity. None of what we see here would be possible without you .”
“A partnership then,” Dan concedes with a smile. “Either way, we’ve found success working together and I’ll never take it for granted, so yes. I’ll help you ladies any way I can.”
“We accept,” Nelly pipes up, her expression lit with mischief. “Now you think we can have a lil’ sample of your product before we go? Lil’ toke?”
Dan’s quick shout of laughter bounces off the greenhouse panes. “Of course. Lemme hook you up. Follow me.”
We trail him from the greenhouse and toward the main office. Nelly and Kashawn walk ahead, chatting with Dan, but Hendrix falls behind and into step with me.
“This was so great,” she says. “It will help us make an informed decision. Thank you.”
Her smile blazes bright and her smooth cheeks glow with fresh air and her own natural radiance.
“You look happy right now,” I tell her, taking a chance and slipping my arm through the crook of hers, linking our elbows. “I’d love to see you happy all the time.”
It comes out before I check it, and by the way she watches me from the corner of her eye, I know it sounded too intense from one casual friend to another. I don’t care, though. I’m not ready to articulate what it means that I enjoy being around Hendrix so much, that I think about her far too often. That in the shower some mornings, I get hard as a silver dollar remembering her scent and softness, and have more than once jerked off to the husky soundtrack of her voice on repeat in my thoughts. I don’t want to articulate the implications of all that even to myself because I already know she won’t give me a shot. If I asked her out, she would turn me down, no ifs or buts. I know she’s aware of me in the same way. I’m not oblivious, but I pose a threat to her goals. And Hendrix doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman to choose a man over her dream. Not when it would cost her something she really wants, and knowing how hurt Zere is over our breakup, being with me would most certainly cost Hendrix that opportunity.
I’d love the chance to explore the promise of what I sense between us, but I doubt I’ll get to, not with the specter of Zere and me on the periphery of my every interaction with Hendrix. Even when we were watching Top Boy on the plane, there was a tension in the way she held herself. How carefully she made sure our arms didn’t touch on the table or that her leg never brushed against mine. She’s holding herself back from me in every way possible.
I hate it.
I’ve never been more fascinated by any woman than I am by Hendrix. The juxtaposition of power and vulnerability, of brazenness and restraint—it’s got me wide-open. I’m good at keeping my emotions in check, but I don’t want to. I’m not good at denying myself something I want.
And I’m finally admitting to myself that I want Hendrix.
Bad.
Getting her would take strategy and careful planning, like everything else I’ve ever pursued and won. I’d have to make what she would gain more appealing than what she would lose. She doesn’t know it, but we’re in the discovery phase now. I’m finding out everything I can about her. What she likes, what she needs, what she hates.
Whenever I go after anything, I always say it’s only a matter of time. That my success is inevitable, but I don’t feel that way with Hendrix. If anything, I recognize that the odds are stacked against me. She’s a woman with a very clear vision of what her future will look like.
No kids. Fine with me. Already got one.
Working to build her fund. Great, I can help her expand it beyond anything she and her partners ever imagined.
Then there’s her career. Zere holds the keys to the next phase, and I know Hendrix won’t risk that to be with me.
Or would she?
“You’re mighty quiet,” she says as we approach Dan’s office. The others have already gone inside. “What are you thinking about?”
All the ways to win you over.
Aloud I say, “That first few episodes of Top Boy we watched on the plane. I’d forgotten how much I loved the early seasons.”
“Oh, my God!” She turns toward me and a smile lights her face. “I can already tell it’ll be my new addiction.”
I take it as a good sign that she hasn’t wrenched her arm away, so I push my luck by subtly tugging her a little closer until the full curve of her hip bumps up against me. I enjoy her softness, how she swells in extravagant ways. If she notices the contact, she doesn’t give any indication.
“Maybe we can catch a few more episodes on the flight back?” she ventures.
“I’m actually not flying back with you guys,” I tell her, inwardly cursing the plans I’ve already made. “The plane will take you to Atlanta because I know Nelly wanted to get back to her wife and kid. But I agreed to stay and help Dan with some community outreach stuff tomorrow.”
I’m watching her closely, so I catch the disappointment on her face before she masks it.
She does pull her arm away now. “That’s good.”
“Yeah, sometimes when you grow in these small towns, there’s a wariness from the community about bringing ‘them drugs into our town.’ Is it safe? Are you gonna make our kids junkies? That sort of thing.”
“And you sweep in, with your Black billionaire self, to ease all their fears and soothe their stereotypes?”
“I don’t know that they know about the billionaire thing. For one, most billionaires aren’t household names or faces.”
“Well, thanks to Zere, you kinda are.”
I pause my steps and wait for her to stop, too. She looks at me over her shoulder, her expression inscrutable.
“Believe it or not,” I say, “I never wanted to be known that way, but I was dating someone very famous. It came with the territory.”
I’m making progress in inches. The last thing I want to talk about is my ex-girlfriend and how awkward our situation would be if Hendrix succumbs to the obvious attraction between us. I’m not going to back away from the conversation, though. I’ll have to be open about everything if I stand a chance.
“I get it.” Hendrix shrugs and resumes walking, not waiting for me to join her. “None of my business.”
I don’t refute that, but lengthen my steps to draw even with her again.
“I’m calling you this week,” I say without preamble, and she stumbles for a second before steadying her gait.
She tilts her head just the slightest bit, not enough that I can look straight into her eyes, but at an angle where I have an unobscured view of the regal arch of her cheekbone and the plushness of her lips and the heavy fringe of lashes that hide anything she might be feeling from me.
“Why?” she asks.
I flash her the buccaneer’s grin I reserve for when something I desire very badly is within my grasp.
“Because I want to.”