Chapter 16
CRESCENT
I pulled up in front of the building and got out.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Carter,” Greeted the valet driver, Mason.
“Good afternoon, Mason,” I told him before handing him my keys.
There was valet service at Skylight Industries, for every client and potential client to use at their disposal. I was keen on guests' services. Serious about making sure Skylight Industries stayed a top tier company. And for several years, we had been.
I walked into the building, greeted Alanda at the front desk, and headed up to my office to get ready for a meeting with a new client whose sole purpose for linking up with us was to clean his money.
I did that. In fact, that was what Skylight Industries was built on—cleaning money.
Started with a few investments from Pops and them.
I didn’t discriminate when it came to bread.
If a nigga came at me with a bogus business plan, I gave insight on making it better if I felt like it would be profitable to invest in.
About twenty percent of our clients were looking to clean up dirty money.
Working with them was what helped Skylight Industries climb to the top of the ladder.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Carter,” greeted Nina, handing me a smoothie I should’ve had this morning.
“Hey Mr. Carter, how you doin this afternoon?” Spoke Gale.
“I’m alright. Y’all got any updates for me?”
“Two,” Nina said with a deep breath. “Mr. Charleston was indicted by the FEDs, so that meeting is canceled.”
With raised brows, I looked over at her. “Straight up? When?”
Gale looked at her phone. “The call came in an hour ago. It’s all over the news too, you didn’t see it?”
I shook my head with my mouth turned down. “Hell naw. You know I don’t watch that sad ass shit.” I paused and stood at the elevator, hitting the up button. “Look at God though. I was just about to secure the deal with him.”
“Mmhmm. God’s favor is amazing, ain’t it? I told you about him but you didn’t want to listen.”
I smirked. “I thought you were just being you, Gale, my bad.”
Gale and Nina had been working for me for a long time.
Years. They were like second and third mothers for real.
So when Gale told me Mr. Charleston made her uncomfortable, I just took it as her being on her motherly shit, trying to protect me and my brand.
If it weren’t for the amount of money Mr. Charleston was talking, I probably would have paid more attention to what she was saying.
I wasn’t afraid to admit that I was often money motivated.
I didn’t really give a fuck about what a muthafucka had going on.
As long as they had money and a solid plan, I was with it.
It might be a good idea to reconsider that though, huh?
Ain’t no telling what would have come out of working with him, with the FEDs on him.
“Hit me with the other update,” I said.
“Well,” Nina paused. “You’re not going to like this.”
“At all,” Gale mumbled.
I frowned. “What?”
“The meeting with Couture Interiors was canceled, too,” Nina said, shaking her head. “I’m surprised you’re still putting up with them, as much as you complained not too long ago.”
Gale turned the corners of her mouth up. “Uh huh. We’re severely behind on The House project. We should be further along.”
“Apparently there was a family emergency,” Nina added. “Her assistant says Mahogany is deeply apologetic.”
I didn’t say anything.
I clenched down on my jaw muscle and looked up at the illuminating numbers on the elevator, watching as it descended.
Couture—Mahogany—canceled on me. The little pep in my step this morning was because I was looking forward to working with her.
Not just because I wanted to see her—the meeting would be virtual—but mainly because I wanted to work on the project.
I wasn’t only excited about The House of Nova Ray because I was working with her again.
I was excited about it because I was bringing a vision I’d had for years to life. I was pissed.
Gale and Nina sensed it.
Had to. Because they stopped talking about it. We stood at the elevator, silent.
Nina said there was a family emergency. Maybe that really was the case.
The last time we met, things were good. It’d been about two weeks since we got back to working together and things were moving swiftly.
Maybe not as smooth as they could have moved had I been able to keep my hands to myself but there hadn’t been any hiccups.
The cancellation came from left field. She couldn’t text and let me know? Fuck was that about?
The elevator doors opened and we stepped inside. I took a sip of my drink and fished around my pocket for my phone. When I grabbed it and unlocked it, I immediately went over to my text messages to hit her up.
But I was stopped in my tracks at the sight of an unread message from her.
She did hit me up. She apologized about it being a last-minute thing and promised to make it up to me by having not only one but two in person meetings next week.
She said although we weren’t meeting, she was working and she really did need me to check my email.
I wanted to know what was going on. She was vague.
Always so fucking vague. Just said there was something she needed to handle at home that couldn’t be pushed back.
Instead of responding to her, I locked my phone and put it back into my pocket.
“How shit going at Couture?” asked Judah sitting at my desk, wiping his hands on a napkin.
About an hour ago, Judah walked into my office with food from Wingstop.
Shit came in clutch too because I hadn’t eaten all day.
Gale and Nina offered to get me lunch, but I declined, wanting to throw myself into work.
It was a pretty short day but that didn’t mean the work I did have to do didn’t require a lot of my attention.
When dawg walked in with the lemon pepper wet, I pushed everything aside and got to smashing.
I looked up from my phone with raised brows.
How shit going at Couture? Shit was a circus for real.
But instead of telling him things were crazy, I shrugged with my mouth slightly turned down and told him things were straight.
I mean, it wasn’t a lie. The progress just wasn’t where I would have liked it. Too much shit was going on.
He squinted. “Just straight? Shorty made the switch, right?”
“Yeah she made the switch.”
“What’s the progress looking like then? I’ve been meaning to go over the file, but I said fuck it, I’d get up with you and see what was what.”
Judah was my nigga. More like a brother than he was a nigga that worked for me.
He’d helped me through some tough ass times.
I could kick it with him on some real shit but because Couture was attached to Mahogany it was a topic I didn’t like to touch.
I knew I’d never spill to the nigga, but he had a way of just knowing shit.
And because I was really into her, a smile was liable to jump up on my face, just at the mention of her.
Like now, I had to brush my hand over my cheek and look away just to answer the nigga.
Despite not wanting to spill to him about what was going on, I felt like I needed to.
Mahogany had me gone. She had me far gone.
So much that on some nights I would lay up, eyes on the ceiling, thinking about the situation and how I’d gotten myself into some deep shit.
Getting wrapped up with a married woman the way I had was bad.
Not just for business but for my mental too.
“Yeah... it’s been straight,” I said, before dabbing at my mouth with a napkin.
He smirked with a squint. “You lyin nigga. Keep it a buck. What happened? You fucked up, didn’t you? Broke your rule?”
I looked up from my phone at him again, said nothing and got up.
Walking across the office to the wet bar, I grabbed a bottle of scotch and a glass.
It was the middle of the day. I shouldn’t have been drinking, but I’d been drinking a lot more than usual lately.
Went from not touching a drink unless it was to celebrate a partnership to touching one at least three times a week.
I was under a lot of pressure because of moms.
Things had taken a big turn for the worse.
We were just waiting for the day. Her final one.
Every time my phone rang I got anxiety, thinking it would be Pops.
And at any time that it was him, I’d be worried, scared to pick the fuckin’ phone up.
Between being on the verge of losing her, and the grief behind Nova picking up, a nigga was having a hard time.
Judah got up and walked over to the wet bar. “Is it interfering with business?”
I shook my head. “Fuck is you even talking about nigga? Is what interfering with business?”
Judah smiled. “Fucking with shorty.”
I took the cork out of the bottle of Louis XIII and poured a little in my glass. Shifting my eyes up at him, I took a sip but said nothing.
“It's me nigga,” Judah stressed.
It’s me nigga. His words replayed in my mind as I thought about the meaning behind that.
Like I said before Judah was my nigga. He’d been there for me for some of the toughest times in my life.
The toughest being when I lost Nova. He was there for me, in multiple ways.
Not just when it came to the business. When I was on a decline after Nova, he was there.
When shit went bad between me and Reign, he was there too.
I didn’t share much but then again I didn't have to.
Not when it came to Judah, I didn't have to. He paid attention. We worked close as hell during that time, since it was him making sure the business didn’t decline while I was grieving.
“She married, right?” Judah continued.
I took another sip of my drink. “Judah.”
He threw his hands up. “I’m not trying to get off into your business, bro—
“That’s exactly what you doing tho’,” I cut in.