13. Crimson #2
The next day, I was at the boutique. My little Bluetooth speaker was playing old schoolhouse music.
Normally, I’d go for someone like Jhene Aiko, but she would’ve had me crying in the fabric.
Today wasn’t the day. I needed to stay focused and make at least sixty dresses and tops.
Now I wouldn’t complete 60 today, but I was focused enough to get started.
Summer was creeping in, and Mulholland’s finest were gearing up for their galas.
I wanted them wearing my work. Not to mention my grand opening was vastly approaching.
Fabric scraps were everywhere. Threads tangled around my fingers.
But I didn’t notice. I had my head down most of the day.
Sewing, stitching, bringing my old sketches to life.
Sketches he found, stitching in a boutique he paid for.
No matter what, I couldn’t escape the print Jah leaves on my life.
He was in me, one way or another. I came here to think freely, but every time my mind got quiet, it drifted back to Jahsir.
I didn’t have time for that. Back to stitching I go. Needle first, feelings later.
“Tell me you’re almost done,” Zahara said, her heels clicking across the floor as she made a beeline for the green dress on the mannequin. “Because this…this is giving rich, dangerous, possibly burner phone energy. I’m obsessed.”
“It’s a prototype, I’m still working out the kinks. Don’t fall in love with it.”
“Too late, bayybee. You snapped with this one.” Zahara circled the mannequin slowly, trailing a finger along the silk. “Damn girl, low cut in the front and back? Sis say she not taking no shorts or losses this year, huh?”
“You really like it? I just wanted to make something bold.”
“I love it. You should debut it tonight.”
“Tonight? Where?”
“The club,” she said, like it was obvious. “It’s Friday, Crim. You haven’t been out since Scarlett was born. Come on, girl, let’s go outside tonight.”
“I don’t know Zahara. You’re right, I haven’t been out in forever, and my makeup bag is at Jah’s place. Then there’s Scarlett.” I rubbed my temple, trying to think of more excuses. “And I definitely don’t have anything club ready.”
“You do. This sexy bish right here.” Zahara nodded at the dress. “It was made for you. Wear it. Borrow my heels, the gold strappy ones you love.”
I looked at the dress. It was sexy. Low cut and dramatic. Pre-baby me would’ve rocked it without a second thought. But now, I wasn’t so sure. I wasn’t even in the mood. Maybe it could do me some good, but what if something happened?
“I don’t know,” I said. “It doesn’t feel right taking space from Jah but still going out. And I’ve been here all day. It’s time to get Scarlett. I’d feel like a bad mother leaving her with your mom after all that.”
“Crimson. You are more than just Scarlett’s mom. You’re a woman before anything. You deserve to do more than work and come home. Is it anxiety? Or PTSD?”
“All of it. But really, it’s the guilt. It feels wrong taking time for myself when I practically checked out of life for six weeks. I just got back from vacation and I’m still not focused. My thoughts be all over the place.”
“You went through something, Crim. You could’ve given up, but you didn’t.
You kept going. Give yourself a pat on the back.
I don’t know how you do it, considering everything, and I do mean everything, you’ve been through.
So we’re going out. Not just because I want my dancing bestie with me, but because my dancing bestie deserves a break. ”
A night to breathe, maybe laugh a little, and feel like myself again would probably do me some good.
I glanced over at my creation on the mannequin.
It had been completed for days, but suddenly it looked different.
It was almost like it had been standing there waiting to get my attention.
And now that I’m looking at it, I did snap when I made it.
“Donna,” I spoke to my mannequin. “I need to borrow your dress. Mama gotta have a life too!”
“My girl!” Zahara high-fived me.
Crimson
The music blared, low but heavy, vibrating through the crowd like smoke.
I was halfway through my drink, trying to pretend like I wasn’t checking the door every five minutes.
The idea of clubbing was cool, but I was ready to go the moment we set foot in here.
Then I felt it, that familiar weight of being watched.
My skin prickled before I even turned around.
Then Zahara’s eyes went wide with shock, happiness, and then disgust.
“What’s up, cuz?” I heard Rashad say. “Damn, Zahara, you look good.” She rolled her eyes, which confirmed why she had that look of disgust on her face.
Rashad and Zahara had a push- and-pull relationship before Venus stepped in.
Now, with him apparently off house arrest, she wouldn’t be able to avoid him.
Rashad being here only meant one thing.There he was, Jahsir.
Standing just beyond the bar with his eyes locked on mine.
Then suddenly he moved toward me. A slow approach that had my heart thudding against my ribs.
I watched as Jahsir moved towards me. He walked with no smile, no wave, just purpose.
His approach had my heart working in overdrive.
I wasn’t ready to have any conversation, but it was too late to avoid it.
“Aye, lemme holler at you.”
That was the last thing I heard before Jahsir yanked me from the bar. His grip wasn’t rough, but it was firm, like he wasn’t giving me a choice.
The club was packed, heat pulsed from bodies and the bassline vibrated through the floor.
LED lights swept over the crowd in flashes of violet and gold, but all I saw was him.
His jaw was tight, and for the first time, he had anger in his eyes.
He pulled me into a hallway just past the VIP section, then shoved open a door marked VIP .
We entered the bathroom, and I noted sleek black tile, gold fixtures, spotless marble sinks. Even the soap dispensers gleamed under the recessed lighting. The bathroom smelled like expensive perfume and fresh eucalyptus. He let the door slam shut behind us.
Jahsir
“What’s your problem, man?” I asked Crimson. Her heels clicked against the tile as she turned to face me, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she stood there with her arms folded like I was the one who had done something to her. “Red?! You don’t hear me talking to you?!”
“Jahsir, why are you showing up while I’m out trying to have a good time?”
“Because I haven’t seen you or Scarlett in damn near three days.”
“Well.”
“Well?” I stepped forward. She didn’t flinch, and she wouldn’t, because she knew I’d never hurt her. But she straightened up a bit. I don’t think she’d ever seen me upset with her. “Red, don’t play with me, man. Please don’t.”
“I’m not. And Jahsir, I really don’t wanna go back and forth with you, so I’m just gonna be real. I think it’s best that I start looking for a place to stay.”
“For what, a vacation or some shit? ‘Cause you’re not moving out.”
“Yes, I am,” she said, standing her ground. “You’re moving funny, and I don’t like it.”
I paced for a moment, letting her words sink in. I also took time to find my next ones. Crimson was pissing me off, and I was really trying not to lose my cool with her.
“You think I’m moving funny because I paid off her daycare? Crimson, I’m just making sure y’all are straight. I would’ve paid that shit off until she hit kindergarten if they let me. It ain’t that deep.”
“It is that deep because you’re gonna leave again. It's just easier to cut habits and ties now.”
“Cut the ties? You trippin’.” I turned to walk away, but Crimson pulled at my arm.
“Lemme go, man.”
“Why are you so mad at me?!” she yelled.
“Because you kept my fuckin’ daughter from me! For three days!” I snapped. “I didn’t know where the hell y’all were!”
“Welcome to the last four years of my life,” she spat back..
“Are we really back to that?!”
“Yes! ‘Cause now you know how it feels!” She screamed, nudging me in my chest. “That dread, the confusion; do you think I wanted to feel like that again?”
Silence stretched between us. Emotions and tensions were at an all-time high. The cold tile under my feet and the too-bright lights overhead only amplified the sterile, charged tension of the club bathroom. I was frustrated, and she was scared and clearly still hurt.
Before I could respond, the door burst open. Some chick from the club stumbled in. She was clearly drunk, but she perked up when she saw Crimson. Guess she thought she was saving her or something.
“You good, girl? Don’t let these niggas scare you or stress you out. Security’s around if you need?—”
“She’s fine, shorty. Move around.” I nudged the door closed and locked it this time.
I moved toward Crimson, slightly calmer than I was a few moments ago.
“Listen, I told you I’m not going anywhere. When I first got back, the plan was to be in and out. Shit changed. Another year won’t kill me.”
“You’ve been here for a while now. I know you got your business in Monaco, but unless you’re sittin’ on millions, you need to get back to the money, Jah. So where does that leave me?”
“With me. What the fuck you mean?! I ain’t said shit about leaving because you just got back on your feet. I ain’t trying to shake your world up.”
“So now you’re staying for me?”
“Shit, I’m not staying for me. Crimson, I love you. I want to be with you. My future is y’all, okay? I was just trying to make sure you were good in case... in case I had to bounce again.”
“What are you not telling me? The dust has been settled on your case for years,” she added. “Right, Jah?”
Quickly, I weighed my options. Should I be one hundred percent transparent or downplay it all?