Chapter 13
Protection With a Capital P
Tinsley
On Friday night, Double’s grandparents invited us to go out to dinner with them and his parents.
Apparently, their foundation had two big fundraisers each year—one in the springtime, and one in the fall.
The spring fundraiser was approaching, and there were details that needed to be discussed before Double took over the reins.
Double held out his hand to me so I could exit the truck. We were outside of Hill Top Management, so I figured he needed to wrap up a work thing.
I smirked as I took his hand and stepped down to the curb. “Just can’t stand to be this close to work and not go in,” I teased.
He grinned. “I guess I take after my grandfather because he asked me to stop by before we head to the restaurant.”
As we started to walk toward the office building, I noticed the lights from Mahogany Hall. “Oh, Compton’s having her party tonight. I’m gonna peek in and see how everything came together.”
“You sure?” He gave a slight frown.
“It’ll be fine.” I rested my hand on his forearm. “I’ll just be a minute.”
“Just a minute, Mrs. Waters, . . . like for real. One minute.”
I wanted to be irritated at him being so bossy. I really hated it when men tried to control me, but I inherently knew that his bossiness didn’t come from the same place as my father’s. It came from genuine concern. “Okay. Go see what your grandfather wants.”
He stared down at me for a few seconds. Part of me wished that he would cover my mouth with his in a fiery kiss.
I was so attracted to the man, even though I hadn’t known him long.
I already knew that he was too much of a gentleman to just take my lips, though.
He would probably wait until I verbally asked to be kissed before doing something like that.
I tried not to sigh when, instead of kissing me senseless, he squeezed my hand then shooed me toward the door of Mahogany Hall.
I turned away from him, knowing he was still watching me.
The first thing that hit me when I entered the venue was the sounds of the music and the loudness of the voices.
It definitely sounded like a time was being had.
As I made my way down the hallway leading to the Angel Ballroom, Compton came out, headed toward me.
“Hey,” I said sheepishly. “Sorry for crashing your party. I just wanted to check in and see how everything turned out.”
“Oh shit! I’m so glad you’re here.”
I knew my confusion had to show on my face.
“My cousin’s friend was supposed to get the photographer.”
I nodded because I remembered her telling me that.
“The photographer ain’t here, and he won’t answer no calls. We’ve been blowin’ him up.”
“Was he paid?”
“I think so, but I don’t care about all that. I need a photographer.”
“Oh,” I said sadly. If we were in Iredia, I would have a contact list a mile long of credible photographers.
I didn’t have any contacts in Chicago. I didn’t know anybody in Chicago.
This was her town. Didn’t she know any photographers?
At all? “You have a backdrop, right? Why don’t you play photographer.
Promise the guests that you’ll get any shots they want and post them to a website tomorrow for them to choose their favorites. ”
“Okay. Can you come in with me and explain that to Diamond? She’s pissed.”
I didn’t know who Diamond was, but I still agreed, though reluctantly. “Okay.” I didn’t get why Compton couldn’t explain it, but whatever. I followed her into the ballroom. She walked me up to a group of women who were standing by the bar, having a conversation.
“Diamond, this is the . . . young lady who assisted me in putting this event together.”
Since when did I assist her with putting the event together? I volunteered to make the balloon arch. What? “Oh no, she’s being too generous. I assisted with the balloon arch. I—”
The lady I presumed was Diamond cut me off. “Uh, I don’t give a fuck about all that. All I wanna know is where is the damn photographer?”
“I’m sorry. I’m confused as I only assisted in constructing the balloon arch. Compton—”
She twisted up her pretty face and looked around the room. “Who the fuck is Compton?”
I gestured to who I knew to be Compton.
“Oh,” she shook her head. “We don’t call her that dumb shit. We call her Sharla. And I already told Sharla that she needs to contact the damn photographer. I don’t know why she brought you over here unless you know how to take pictures.”
“Again, according to Sharla, the hostess’s friend was supposed to supply the photographer.”
“Uh huh, that was me. But as you can see, he ain’t here. Somebody needs to get me a damn photographer. Like ASAPedly.”
I literally reached up to scratch my head, because what?
“So what we were thinking was that Sharla could use her phone to take the pictures. She’ll provide you with a link where you can view the pictures once she gets them uploaded tomorrow, and you can select your favorites. ” I gave her a bright smile.
“Bitch, do I look like I’m playin’ wit’ you?”
“Bitch?”
She cocked her head to the side. “That’s what I said, bitch.”
“First of all,” I began, and the next thing I knew a burst of pain shot through my right cheek while my ear started to ring. I didn’t know what happened. All I knew was that Sharla gasped.
“Oh shit.”
While I was trying to understand and reconcile the idea that this girl had slapped me, Diamond pushed me on the shoulder. Finally, my brain started to register that she was trying to fight me. I turned and quickly tried to leave the space and get to Double, but my ponytail was yanked roughly.
“Stop, Diamond!” I heard Compton/Sharla say with authority.
While Diamond was distracted, I took off running out of Mahogany Hall.
When I got next door to Hill Top Management, I pulled on the handle with all of my might before remembering that they kept the door locked.
My eyes, though blurry with the tears of both pain and humiliation, searched frantically for a doorbell, all while pounding on the door.
It was after hours, so I wasn’t even sure if the receptionist was still there.
Finally, Justus opened the door for me. “Whoa. What the hell is going on, sis-in-law? Why’re you bangin’ down the door like that?”
I practically fell into his arms and began to sob loudly.
“Where the fuck are you comin’ from? What’s wrong? Say Double! Double! Your wife out here cryin’ and shit!”
Mr. Waters, Mama Passion, Lucky, Lynne, and even Mr. Hill came into the lobby area with Double. He pushed through the crowd to get to me and took me into his arms. “Who the fuck touched you?” His voice was ice. “Did this happen next door?”
“Next door?” Justus repeated. “You went over to Compton’s Galentine’s day shit? Why?”
“It was a mistake,” I cried.
“She went over there to check up on Compton and make sure the party turned out all right,” Double explained.
“And what did they do to you? Did they attack you?” Mama Passion’s voice held how upset she obviously felt about seeing me in such a state.
I fought like hell to compose myself. This was Double’s family. They didn’t know me. I didn’t want to be all discombobulated and dramatic in front of them. I cleared my throat and wiped at my eyes. “Uh, there was some mix-up about a photographer.”
Journey handed Double some tissue. I hadn’t even realized that she was there. Double dabbed at my eyes, wiping the tears with gentle pats to my cheeks.
He dabbed at my eyes. “Uh,” I began again.
“There was some mix-up about a photographer. Compton asked me if I knew a photographer. I gave her the suggestion to just play the photographer for the night. Upload all the pictures to a website in the morning, and let the guests pick their favorites. She could print them and gift them.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Mr. Hill said.
“Apparently not, because the girl who was supposed to get the photographer slapped me after I suggested it. Then she pushed me, and I realized that she was going to fight me. I tried to get out of there, but she grabbed my ponytail and yanked it. Finally, Compton distracted her, and I got away.”
“These little bitches,” Mama Passion said through gritted teeth.
“I’m tryna figure out why you ain’t whup this girl’s ass,” Lucky said to me.
“Leave her alone, Lucky. Everybody ain’t no damn brawler like the chicks you date,” Journey told him.
“Right, ’cause one of my bitches would’ve had that entire venue turned the fu—”
Double’s daddy, Mr. Waters, shot him a warning glance, and surprisingly, Lucky shut up.
“Where are my gym shoes?” Mama Passion asked. “I know I left some gym shoes in the office. Give me one minute to get them on and—”
“What do you think you’re about to do, baby girl?” her husband questioned. “You think you’re about to take your fifty-year-old ass over there and fight?”
“She ain’t got to. Where are the gym shoes, Mama? I’ll wear ’em and whup a bit—”
“You want your lick back?” Mr. Hill asked me.
I shook my head vehemently because I didn’t want to hit that girl. She could fight, and I couldn’t. If I hit her, she was just going to hit me again. I didn’t want to get hit again. One time was traumatic enough for me.
He looked at me with what was probably supposed to be sympathy but made me feel pitiful. “Cut the power, Just.”
Justus’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, sh . . . snap. Y’all don’ brought Pretty Hill back to the forefront. I thought we retired him.”
“He comes out when somebody fucks with my family,” Mr. Hill said. “Cut the power.”
Justus pulled out his phone, swiped a few times, and looked up at his grandfather. “Done.”
“Let’s ride. Somebody lock up and set the alarm over here.”
The nine of us left Hill Top Management and walked next door. Women were leaving the building in droves as we approached the door.
“There’s no power,” one of the women told us as she sashayed past.