Double

Chapter 11

Meeting the Family

Tinsley

We left the martial arts studio and only had to round the corner and get past the parking lot to be at the next family business.

“Wilde Waters Skin Clinic,” I read the name of the business from the sign. “Ooh, that sounds fancy. Is it a spa?”

“Nah, it’s actually a clinic. Journey’s a dermatologist, her best friend is a chemist, and my cousin, Royalty, is an esthetician.

They decided to go into business together.

” Double rang the bell. When we were buzzed in, he held the door open for me.

I stepped inside and stopped walking immediately.

The space was absolutely gorgeous with its caramel, cream, and chocolate décor.

The soles of my boots sank into the plush area rug while my eyes took in the soft ambient lighting, the sumptuous textiles, and all the decadent textures.

The smell, though. The smell was glorious—the perfect balance of lavender and bergamot.

I inhaled deeply because I’d always loved the smell of bergamot.

Double moved past me, took my hand, and pulled me toward the oversized reception desk. A young lady dressed to the nines sat behind the desk.

“What’s up, Treasure?” he said to the young lady.

She looked up, and her almond-shaped eyes met his. It was immediately obvious that the young lady had Down syndrome. “Hey, Double.” She gave him a pretty smile.

I noticed that while her words weren’t perfect, I could understand her perfectly.

I was awed because, in my country, those with chromosomal, cognitive, or behavior issues would never be seated front-and-center at a successful business.

Since she was the only person in the lobby besides us, I could only presume that she was the one who greeted every client.

She craned her neck to see around Double. “Good morning. Welcome to Wilde Waters Skin Clinic. Do you have an appointment?”

Before I could speak, Double chimed in. “I got married about a week ago, T Baby. Nobody told you?”

She seemed to think about it. “No. This is your wife?”

“This is my wife,” he told her with a head nod. “This is Tinsley. Tinsley, this is my baby cousin, Treasure.”

“I’m not a baby.”

“Oh, you’re right,” he quickly corrected himself. “Treasure isn’t a baby. She’s just the youngest cousin.”

I smiled at her. “It’s nice to meet you, Treasure.”

“Hey, Cuzzo!” A short, young woman wearing burgundy scrubs came from somewhere in the back of the clinic and threw herself into Double’s arms. “Hey. Got Journey’s text that you were bringing your wife by so we could meet her.”

“Nobody told me.” Treasure pouted.

The other woman looked down at her with compassion before scooping her up into a hug. “I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you. Did you get to meet her?”

Treasure grinned. “Yes. Her name is Tinsy.”

“Tinsley,” Double corrected. “There’s a L in there. T-i-n-s-l-e-y. Tinsley.”

“Tinsley,” Treasure repeated.

“Tinsley, this is my cousin, Royalty. Royalty, this is Tinsley.”

“Hey. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to—”

She cut me off with a screech then grabbed my hand. “Oh my gosh, Double. Is this ring big enough?” She looked me up and down playfully. “Oh, you must be bouncing on that—”

Double cut her off, removing my hand from her grasp. “Cool out, Ro.” He looked at me. “That branch of the Waters family tree routinely does too much. Lucky, you know? The one who hit your homegirl in the head with the choppa? Yeah, these are his sisters.”

I looked at both women before nodding. “Oh, okay.”

“I just stopped by to introduce y’all to Tinsley. We got other stops to make. Where’s my sister?”

“Journey and Anastasia went to meet with a provider,” Treasure said carefully, seeming to make sure she was pronouncing every word. She consulted the computer screen. “She’ll be here at one o’clock.”

Double nodded. “A’ight. Like I said, we still got other stops to make.” He hugged Treasure tightly. “See you later.”

“See you, Double. Bye Tinsy.”

“She fuckin’ with you,” Double told me as Treasure snickered happily.

“Bye, Treasure. It was nice to meet you,” I told Royalty.

“You, too.” We left the skin clinic, heading in the direction that Double told me was south. Once we made it past the parking lot belonging to the clinic, he pointed out a building that held salon suites.

“This is one of my mom’s locations. There are six salon suites inside. Do you know what salon suites are?”

“I do,” I assured him. “Are they hair suites or nail suites?”

“Okay. Okay.” He nodded with a grin. “Two are nail suites, the other four are hair.”

We kept walking past that business. “So your family owns this entire block?”

“We own this block and the next three blocks. One of my cousins has a barber shop down there. There’s a restaurant, Brown Sugar Soul.

A family friend is the owner and head chef.

My dad has an auto parts store down there.

We lease to a bakery, to a flower shop, and to a husband and wife who run a paint & sip business . . . just all kinds of shit.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah, the South Side was losing businesses because of the crime. It was like the only thing that could survive in our neighborhoods were liquor stores. Big Hill decided that he didn’t want that for this area.

He invested in it, put the proper channels in place to discourage criminals, and now it’s viable.

” At the next building, he stopped walking. “This is our office building.”

I looked up at the sign: Hill Top Management Company.

Double entered the security code, then held the door open for me.

When I stepped inside, I was floored. If I thought I was awed by the skin clinic, it was nothing compared to what I felt when walking into his family’s office building.

First of all, the lobby of the building screamed old money.

I knew because I had come from old money.

Growing up, my father always had a nice and stately office. When Faylise and I decorated our own office for Velvet & Vintage, we’d made sure that the office was top of the line and beautiful. Still, when I compared it to Double’s family’s office, neither my father’s nor my office could ever.

The lobby was decidedly masculine with dark wood paneling on the walls, on the built-in shelves, and on the reception desk.

There were pops of gold to warm up all of the dark wood.

Gold on the reception desk, on lamps, and on vases that held humongous floral arrangements.

The furniture—the sofa and chairs in the waiting area were a comfortable-looking caramel velvet.

The throw pillows were green and beige. It was the perfect balance of masculine but cozy.

Besides that, the office smelled good. It smelled like sandalwood and vanilla.

“It’s gorgeous,” I told Double.

“Yeah. We spend a fair share of time here. My grandfather felt like it should at least be comfortable.” Double took me around the office and introduced me to everyone.

“Last stop before I take you to lunch.” He took my hand and led me from his office building to the building right next door.

“What is this?” I asked. Every single building he took me into was prettier than the last.

“This is an event space. I told you that my mom established a foundation—Passion’s Project.

Occasionally, we need to host events and don’t have time to vet a venue.

My mother wanted this space for that. And also because she thought that the people of this community should have somewhere local and close by to hold smaller to mid-sized events.

There are two rooms—one larger and one smaller.

Come on.” He led me deeper into the hallway.

As we walked, the sound of voices grew louder.

“There’s somebody here. We’re not interrupting an event, are we?”

Double was quiet for a moment. The conversation continued. “Nah,” he said finally. “That’s Justus. I just hope he’s not back here with some chick’s ass out. Justus!” he called loudly, clearly trying to get his attention. “Yo, Just!”

“We in here!” Justus called back. “We in the Angel Ballroom.”

I followed Double into the room. It was another gorgeous space—bright and airy, neutral shades, from the white oak flooring, to the cream-colored drapes that hung over floor-to-ceiling windows, to the cream-colored tables and camel-colored chairs. It was elegant, beautiful, and very inviting.

Justus’s lady friend, Compton, sat at the one rectangular table, while Justus stood near it. We joined them, and as soon as we were close enough, the two brothers exchanged a greeting with an intricate handshake and a quick one-armed hug.

Justus turned to me immediately after. “What’s good, sis-in-law?” He pulled me into an embrace.

I wasn’t really used to being greeted like that by family, but I definitely wasn’t averse to it. I returned the hug. “Hey, Justus.” When he released me, I gave a smile to his girl. “Hello, Compton.”

She gave me an uninterested glance. “Hey.”

Justus appraised her. “I don’t know what you actin’ crazy with my sis-in-law for. She ain’t did shit. They just got here. If anything, you need to be suckin’ up to her and askin’ if she’ll help you with this event you got comin’ up this weekend.”

“I don’t need no help.”

“You need somethin’,” he insisted.

“What’s the problem?” Double asked.

“She let her friends convince her to do this Galentine’s shit event. She don’ put out all this money arranging shit, and they don’t want to pay her.”

I kept my face neutral, but in my mind, I was thinking about how stupid and backward it was to sign contracts without the funds up front.

Every last one of my clients paid a deposit and made incremental payments as we got closer to their reserved date.

There was no way that I would be left holding the bag on the date of an event.

What kind of event business was she running?

“Stop tellin’ my business, J.”

“Shit, this is his business because you booked the room. You booked the bartender. You signed a contract with us. All that shit costs, and you’re gonna have to pay.” Double looked down at her. “That bill is definitely gonna come due on the night of the party.”

“I’ll have the money,” she practically hissed. “I’m not worried about the money. I’m worried because the person who was supposed to help me put the balloon arch together cancelled on me.”

I wanted to sigh. Balloon arches could be difficult and time-consuming if you didn’t know what you were doing.

“Say, Tinsley?” Justus asked.

“Yeah?” I looked over at him.

He gave me a smirk. “You know anything about balloon arches?”

When Faylise and I first started our event business, we did whatever events we could get, which was mostly kids’ birthday parties and baby showers.

I hadn’t had to make a balloon arch in a while.

Faylise and I had moved into doing more upscale affairs where balloon arches weren’t part of the décor.

Still, I knew that I hadn’t lost my skills.

“Yeah. I’ve had my fair share of experience with balloon arches. ”

“Good,” Compton said, practically tossing the balloon arch kit toward me. It landed on the edge of the table. “Here you go.”

Nobody moved.

Finally, I eyed it coolly. “Are you asking or telling?” I wasn’t a tough girl, and it was clear that Compton was, or at least considered herself to be one. What I was, was a businesswoman. I understood unequal power balances and the fact that I wasn’t interested in being in one.

Double slid closer to me, then his hand was on my back in a show of support.

“That’s what the fuck I’m sayin’,” Justus said. “How do you luck up on somebody that knows how to do something you don’t know how to do . . . then treat it like it should be their honor to help you? Be for real.”

Compton rolled her eyes at Justus before huffing out a huge sigh. “Uh.” She looked at me critically. “What’s your name again?”

Justus shook his head. “Compton, that’s fucked up. If I was her, I wouldn’t help you, based on that alone.”

“Tinsley,” I supplied.

She sighed again. “Tinsley, would you help me with the balloon arch?”

Since I was familiar with the ins and outs of balloon arches, I knew what questions to ask before I agreed. “Do you have an electric balloon pump and the tying tool?”

“Nah.” She frowned slightly. “Is it mandatory?”

I shrugged. “Not if you don’t mind blowing up and tying off all the balloons yourself.”

“Damn! Guess I gotta run to the store and get a balloon pump and whatever else you said.” She seemed annoyed, but since I knew I hadn’t done anything to her, I figured she had to be mad at herself.

“Take your time,” Double encouraged. “She can’t help you today anyway. We have somewhere to be. She can help you later this week.”

“Can she help me on Thursday?”

“Why are you asking me? She’s standing right here.”

“Well, damn, Double. You were just talkin’ for her. Talkin’ ’bout, she can’t help you today. I figured—”

“Talk yourself outta help if you want to,” Justus cut in.

Compton closed her mouth.

“Yes. I can help you on Thursday. When and where?”

“Uh, here.” She pointed down at the floor to indicate the Angel Ballroom. “Can you come around lunchtime?”

I nodded.

“What’s the pay rate?” Double asked.

Compton looked shocked. “The pay rate? I thought she was just helping me out.”

“She ain’t in high school. She ain’t lookin’ to get service hours,” Justus joked.

“Shut up, J!”

“No, I’ll help you free of charge,” I offered. “I know what it’s like to have to prepare a venue for an event all by yourself.”

My comment seemed to bring the annoyed expression back to her face. “Thanks.”

“One hour,” Double said. “She’ll give you one free hour. That’s it.” He turned to me with his hand extended. “You ready to get lunch?”

I placed my hand inside of his. “I am.”

“We up. I’ll holla, Just.”

Justus threw his fist up. “All right now, bro.”

And with that, we left the event space.