Chapter 6 #2
And it’d been excruciating. Walking through the doors at Couture, not running into her.
I caught myself lingering a bit, trying to bump into her, again.
Doing goofy shit like that had never been a part of my M O.
I was smooth. I was calm. Calculated. Let shit come to me organically.
Women especially. I didn’t have to put in an effort for anything in this world but money.
But then I met Mahogany and that changed.
I couldn’t have it my way. Honestly, it put me in the mindset of when I was losing Nova.
It felt a little empty. Like damn… I couldn’t have it my way?
Who I was didn’t matter in this situation.
What I could do, the money I made… none of it mattered for real.
“I have to get up early too. So,” Daija paused with a soft smile. “I’m not trying to stay, Crescent. I don’t know why we do this awkward thing every time we’re done anyway. I know I have to leave, and I know you want me to. It’s been how long? I know the program big daddy.”
I laughed a little, brushed my hand down over my head, and said nothing. Once she was dressed, I walked her to the front door and told her to text me when she made it home.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of my alarm.
With a grunt, I reached over to silence it.
Before laying back down I clicked on my text message icon and shook my head at an unopened message from Daija, letting me know she’d made it home.
I didn’t even hear the shit go off last night, I was so caught up in my head.
Laying back down, I put my eyes to the ceiling and thought about last night and what I didn’t get from it.
What I usually got. Fulfillment. Satisfaction.
I didn’t get neither of those things. When Daija dipped, I was left feeling empty, like something was missing, with the same problem I had before she got there. Mahogany. She was on my mind heavy.
I went to sleep thinking about her. Not just wanting her.
Thinking about her in general. Wondered what she was doing.
Wondered if she was sleeping. Wondered if she’d just given my pussy away.
Hell yeah, it was mine. Even if it wasn’t mine.
I wondered if sex with ol’ boy felt as empty for her as sex with Daija had been for me.
Thoughts about sex didn’t last long though.
I closed my eyes and saw hers. The sadness behind them.
The emptiness. The longing. The last time we were together that’s what they were like.
I never wanted to see what I saw in photos of the two of them, in real life again.
But something in my spirit told me I would.
Something told me, when we were given the opportunity to spend time again, it would be there again.
Briefly, I hoped. I wanted to fill them with those things I saw in them when we were together. Longing. Desire. Excitement. Happiness.
Sighing, I sat on side of the bed. I was tired of her ass.
Tired of thinking about her. Tired of wanting her.
I wondered how long this shit was going to last and why it was happening in the first place.
I didn’t have these types of problems. Never had.
Didn’t think I ever would. Fuck had she done to me?
I shook it off, stood, and headed to the bathroom for a shower to get my day started.
Hours later, I was walking through the doors at Couture.
I hated coming down here now. Before, coming down here was the highlight of my day.
These days, it wasn’t. I felt like a simp ass nigga waiting, hoping and wishing to run into Mahogany.
Hated how much she had infiltrated my system.
A nigga could barely function without thinking about her. Especially when I was here.
“Good morning, Mr. Carter,” Claire spoke.
I chucked my chin. “Morning.”
I’d even switched my meetings down here from the afternoon to the morning. Before, I scheduled them late just so they could run over. Shit had flipped for sure.
“Here to see Shardae, right?” She asked, typing around on the computer.
Unfortunately. Un-fucking-fortunately.
“Yeah.”
Today I was dry. After last night, I was in a fucked-up mood. I didn’t like what fucking with Mahogany did to me. Felt like my dick was broken and it only wanted to work for her. Shit was crazy. I’d never in all of the years I’d been fucking, had this issue. Not even when I was with Reign.
After a couple of seconds, she okayed me to go up. I made my way through the lobby, spoke to a couple of people and shit and stood at the elevator. As I was waiting, Mahogany’s assistant, Tamia approached, wearing a smile. She sized me up and said hello.
I chucked my chin. “Wassup? You havin a good day?”
She nodded. “Yep. I sure am. I hope things are going well between you and Shardae.”
I squinted a little, stroked my chin, and nodded. “Yeah. things are going straight.”
“Good. Mahogany will be happy to hear.”
“She’s here?”
“No, she’s working remote. Would you like me to relay a message?”
Yeah. Tell her to stay out of my fuckin’ head.
“Nah. Just tell her I said hello.”
“Will do, Mr. Carter,” she said with a mischievous grin as we stepped on the elevator.
The ride up to Shardae’s office was spent quiet.
Every now and then I caught her looking at me from the corner of her eye.
I wondered if she knew some shit. I was good at reading people and there was something about her disposition that told me she did.
Before I got off, I told her to have a good day and continued towards Shardae’s office with a whole ass attitude.
Shaking my head, I tapped Shardae’s door a couple of times before she told me I could come in.
When I walked in the scent of Patchouli hit my nostrils and I frowned.
Fuck was that? Potpourri? With a deep breath, I shook my head and headed to the seat at her desk.
I didn’t like this shit. I didn’t like it at all.
I missed the scent of vanilla. That was what Mahogany’s office smelled like.
And on the days she wore a sweet perfume, the scents intertwined, creating a unique aroma I missed.
Gripping the top of my slacks, I sat at the desk across from Shardae. “Morning.”
She looked away from her computer. “Good morning, Mr. Carter. Did you have a chance to go over the flooring concepts I sent over yesterday?”
I clenched down on my teeth and nodded. “Hell yeah. I ain’t fuckin’ with it though. The colors don’t compliment… not in my opinion they don’t.”
“The colors don’t compliment? Black goes well with everything.”
“Speaking of that,” I said. “Black is too harsh for a children's hotel. Why we swap the greens out? I told you I didn't want Mahogany’s concepts touched. Unless it was to elevate.”
“I went over your portfolio and black seems to be your signature color and–
“I get that,” I interrupted. “And I appreciate the accommodation, but this is a children's hotel and I’d like to steer clear of things associated with me.”
“I thought following the brand colors would be best.”
“This isn’t about my brand. The hotel is separate from Skylight Industries. It's its own entity.”
“We’re following the brand colors on the other–
“We’re not talking about the other projects, right now, Ms. Shardae.
We're talking about The House of Nova Ray. I just told you…” I paused and took a deep breath.
“No black. Keep the color scheme as it was, thank you. Bright. Welcoming. Shit like that. The green means something. I can’t remember.
Whatever it means… I like it. So… don’t touch it.
Add to it. The only thing I did like in your plan was the light fixtures. I fuck with it.”
I really didn’t want to go over why The House of Nova Ray was a separate entity.
I didn’t want to go over what The House of Nova Ray meant to me.
Once Mahogany convinced me to move away from the color black, I decided to make The House of Nova Ray a completely separate entity.
She would stand alone. As an umbrella herself, housing other household names in the future.
At first, I wanted the hotel chain to be under Skylight Industries.
But after talking to her, that changed. I was going for completely different branding with this one.
I shouldn’t have had to explain that to Shardae since I’d already told her I didn’t want Mahogany’s design concepts touched.
Only if it was to elevate. Did she think swapping the colors out was elevation?
“I understand,” Shardae said through clenched teeth. She looked away, back at her computer screen. “Well. I don’t know what we’re here for. I can’t just..” She paused and sighed. “It would have helped if you would have responded to the email yesterday, letting me know your concerns.”
I didn’t say anything. Partially because she was right.
Mainly because I was frustrated. I looked up at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and shook my head.
She was upstairs. Not too far away and I couldn’t do shit about that.
We were in the same building together and I couldn’t see her.
It was frustrating, having her so near, not being able to stare into her brown eyes.
Or to smell the scent of her perfume. I had to settle for stank ass patchouli.
Had to settle for this attitude instead of her fiery but fierce attitude.
The conversation wasn’t the same. The vibe…
completely thrown off. I didn't want Shardae. I wanted Mahogany fuckin’ Mills.
A nigga was trying not to be a brat. I didn’t want to complain. Didn’t want to make shit difficult but I also didn’t want to settle. Not for this. Not for her. Not for mediocre design. Or concepts. Or conversations. Or pussy.
I wanted the best. I wanted her. And while pussy wasn’t on the table anymore, it would be again.
The minute I made her mine again. My designer.
And I would. Right after this meeting. Fuck it.
I was complaining. I had valid points. Shardae was incompetent.
I wanted competence. I wanted attention to detail.
I wanted to hear more about color theory.
I wanted her to talk to me about imported flooring and shit like that. Shardae didn’t do anything for me.