Righteous (BLP MC #6)

Chapter 1

Mom:

Hello Jariyah. This is your reminder about the upcoming gala at my mansion. Please be on time. Please make sure you wear a ball gown. Please wax, shave your armpits and legs. Please visit your stylist so your hair is in perfect condition. Remember that your image is a reflection of mine. Kisses.

Me:

Duly noted, mother dear. *winking emoji*

Mom:

Please stop with the mother dear crap, Jariyah Navae. I despise it, and you know it.

Me:

Yes, ma’am. See you soon. *kiss emoji*

Mom:

Count on it. Love you.

Me:

I love you too.

A giggle surfaces at the chastisement in Mom’s words because I can see the frown on her face even though our conversation is through text.

My life should be one of few complaints and many rewards.

But that’s only if you consider being the mayor’s daughter an accomplishment.

I love that I can say what many can’t. Being the daughter of Mayor Markia Owens isn’t a benefit I would have chosen for myself.

In fact, I often wonder if I can run for the border undetected.

I’m a twenty-nine-year-old woman whose mother feels the need to try her hand at matchmaking with me.

Most of the eligible bachelors Mom deems perfect I determine are boring and only trying to please her.

With every function, gala, or party I attend, I find myself disgusted.

Over starched shirts. Pompous and egotistical men.

These are some of the things that are consistent at the party I have to attend in a week.

To say I’m dreading going would be like saying Bigfoot exists.

I have attended the finest schools and eaten in the most amazing restaurants in the city.

I am ready to pull my hair out. The concept is asinine because of the short, Anita Baker-like cut I keep my hair in.

I’m sick of the same crowds of high society geeks.

Bring me the men with a bit of darkness and a lot of stamina, please.

“The lemon is only supposed to be an additive for your water, girl. You look like you’ve been sucking on it.”

I lift my head from the table to the smile of the woman I’m quickly using as my unofficial safety net.

Nicole. The waitress at Sizzling and Grubbing.

This diner isn’t in the neighborhood where Mom frequents or where anyone from her world is.

In fact, it’s the best place for me and my wayward thoughts.

I somehow stumbled upon this diner several weeks ago, but I’ve been here almost every day since.

“Hey, Nicole. Lemons are way too bitter to suck. How are you? You’ve been zipping around here like crazy.”

“Girl, it’s been a madhouse in here. Have you decided on your order?”

“Yeah, I’ll take the BLT and fries. That sandwich, to be so basic, has me in a chokehold.”

The bacon, lettuce, and tomato I had the first time I came here is why I’ve been back. The perfect blend of butter and mayonnaise on the toasted brioche bun often has my mouth watering. That and Nicole, whose sweet and warm personality has made it easy for me to breathe easily.

“You know, there are other things on the menu, right?” Nicole smiles.

“Does the menu include sugar, spice, and everything but nice?”

“Trust me, you don’t want any parts of that.”

The curl of Nicole’s lips and the blankness in her eyes should have been a warning. But I’m too sick of the endless line of corny men vying for my attention at the hands of my mother’s urging.

“Actually, I do. I’m in search of someone who can make me weak in the knees while clutching the pearls my mama gave me for my sixteenth birthday. I have been around so many baseless eggheads that I’m desperate for something new.”

“While that’s what you think you need, believe me, it’s not. In fact, you need to stop venturing on this side of town.”

“Wait, I hear danger in your tone that’s very intriguing. Hook me up, Nicole. Save me from bow ties, patent leather shoes, and cheesy smiles. Please.”

“Over here, all you might get is a trip to the hospital, visiting privileges at the county, or a burial plot to bring limp flowers. This ain’t what you want, Jariyah. I promise you.”

“I promise you that I do. Why don’t you hook me up with your best person? I know you have to know a single man who can give me what I’m looking for. I want and need a roughneck.” I laugh.

The lyrics from the old-school rap come to mind, and I can’t help but agree.

I’m tired of the same old status quo of men.

I want and need some adventure in my life.

I also need a man who can make my toes curl and my back ache the next morning.

A man who doesn’t mind telling me I’m wrong and putting me through a mattress when I’m right.

“I see the deviance in your eyes, so I’ll see if I can get my brother to agree to a date.”

“Ooh. You have a single brother. What’s he like? Please tell me he’s not a cornball. I’m tired of those kinds of men. I need someone with some edge who will make me want to run into danger instead of running into a fire.”

“Yes. He’s older than me by a few years. He’s the type of man who will make you want to run to a church altar.”

“Ooh, he sounds perfect. Sign me up. Here, take my number and text me the details of our date.”

“I said I would try. There’s no guarantee that he will even be open to this, especially given who you’re connected to.”

“I trust that you can make it happen. My number is 380-728-1120.”

Nicole rolls her eyes before she adds my number to her phone.

I ignore the defeat in her shoulders, because the possibility of going on a date with someone not hand-selected by Mom delights me.

Nicole is also a beautiful caramel-skinned bombshell, so hopefully, her brother won’t be a toad.

Although, at this point, I might be open to kissing one to see if it results in a prince like the one Princess Tiana ended up with.

“I’ll text you when I know something, but don’t be surprised if the answer is no. My brother isn’t the type of man who likes being set up. He prefers to chase a woman on his own terms.”

“I love the sound of that. Never mind on the food; I’m going to get out of here because I have a date to prepare myself for. But I’m looking forward to hearing from you soon.”

When I stand from my seat, my shoulders feel light, and my feet are weightless as I walk toward the exit of the diner.

For the first time in who knows how long, I think the sun will shine again.

I have been stuck in the same rut regarding my love life and dating for far too long.

Hope blooms within me, and I have enough of it to suffer through another engagement at Mom’s house.

“Damn,” I say when I stare at myself in the floor-length mirror in my bedroom.

The black one-shoulder, slit dress with a glittery effect molds to my body in the best way.

The gold strappy, open-toe heels on my feet not only complement the dress but also match tonight’s color scheme.

Leave it to Mom not only to host a shindig at her residence but also to put a color specification in place.

I chose the black dress as a rebellious act because this isn’t the first time Mom has chosen gold.

At this point, I think it’s safe to say it’s her favorite color.

This is one of four dresses that I bought for tonight’s festivities.

But it’s the only one that has given me a reason to compliment myself.

Unlike the other three dresses, I bought this dress from Muller’s Sophisticated Goddess Boutique.

The owner, Letrice, picked it for me, and as I stand in front of this mirror, I can admit that she did her big one.

I feel sexy while still wearing something elegant that Mom will appreciate.

While I’m too old to care what she thinks about my attire, I know she always expects me to represent her well.

“Alright, Jariyah. You have killed enough time. It’s time to go face the music.” I blow a kiss to myself and then turn to grab my gold clutch before I leave my room.

One of the privileges I don’t complain about with being the mayor’s daughter is my ability to live in one of the new high-rise apartment buildings in Downtown Ribax.

I didn’t want people doing crazy things to get to me, so I live on the sixteenth floor instead of the penthouse level.

As a favor to Mom, the owner of this building has made the other units unavailable for rent, which gives me the privacy I desire.

Five minutes or so later, I walk out of my front door and toward the elevator.

As if the odds are in my favor, the doors open a second after I enter the shaft.

The ride down and the walk to my car are unproblematic, so I’m on my way to Mom’s residence within minutes of leaving my apartment.

The journey to Mom’s place is quiet and somewhat long since I live downtown.

Mom lives in the uppity area of town where guards are necessary.

Music plays throughout the interior and provides the distraction I need, but it quickly evaporates when I turn into the long, winding driveway of the mayor’s mansion.

My skin prickles and my stomach tightens when the countless vehicles come into view.

I should have been here, but my indecision about a dress delayed my arrival.

I pull behind a luxury vehicle and quickly grab my clutch before I exit my car with hurried steps.

Thanks to Mom’s keen efforts, no one can tell how much my legs are trembling from the confidence in my stride to the entrance.

“She’s been looking for you,” one of Mom’s bodyguards says a second after I cross the threshold.

The classical music echoing through the mansion has me incapable of replying to the man as I sashay toward the ballroom on this level.

The music selection instantly grinds my gears because I want to yell at the top of my lungs, We’re Black.

Where is the jazz, Mom? Surprisingly, Mayor Owens pretends to enjoy classical music for her prestigious friends during events, yet she plays jazz or old-school R&B on Saturdays.

The current song feels like a shot of Nyquil mixed with a glass of red wine.

Perhaps this is why the people who attend these events often seem to lack personality, rhythm, and foresight, and struggle to entertain without limitations.

It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes when I enter the room and see various couples dancing to the hideous ballad playing.

“Good evening, Jariyah. I have been waiting for you to get here. Your mother said you would be arriving soon.”

Lord, have mercy. Of all the people to greet me first, why did it have to be this man?

“Good evening, Montana.”

Montana Gibson is one of the men Mom has been attempting to set me up with.

Montana is an investment banker and the son of one of her constituents.

But in my eyes, Montana is nowhere near my speed.

Even now, I fight the urge to snarl when I see the bow tie and tuxedo that fit him too snug for my liking.

Not to mention the pants hit Montana’s shins and look like they should have been sent to a thrift store instead of being worn by him.

“Can I have this dance?”

Hell no!

The two-word response echoes in my mind faster than I can process his question, and I fight the urge to giggle.

“I’m sorry. I need to find Madam Owens so she knows I’m here.” With a fake smile in place, I wave and continue toward my parents, who are off to the side of the makeshift dance floor, chatting with another couple.

A sigh escapes, and my shoulders drop when I see a passing waiter with a tray of champagne.

I grab a flute and take a dainty sip, so as not to draw attention to myself.

The cold liquid slides down my throat and fills me with a calm reprieve that I know will be necessary to survive the night.

By the time I reach my parents, my glass is nearly empty, and I’m at ease.

“Good evening, everyone,” I greet as the foursome turns toward me with pleasant smiles.

“Aren’t you rather smashing tonight, Ms. Jariyah. I’m so glad we brought our son with us tonight. Your mother was just telling us to expect you soon.”

Some things never change. Another couple and another son whose pedigree speaks to Mom’s agenda for me. Ugh.

“Thank you, Mr. Kent, for that nice compliment.” My response is the only one I can formulate because I don’t desire to meet or interact with his son.

“No problem. Here comes Brian now.”

A prickle at the nape of my neck forms, my fingers twitch, and tightness spreads across my chest at hearing Mr. Kent’s words.

“Aren’t you a sight for my eyes. Good to see you again, Jariyah,” Brian Kent greets as his hand lands on my back.

My breath catches like my lungs haven’t decided if it’s safe to finish the job.

My skin becomes cold and clammy as I gently take a step out of Brian’s hold before I take in his mustard-colored suit.

His light skin looks lackluster, and the frames covering his eyes have me wondering if I have something in my clutch to wipe them clean.

My gaze is stuck on Brian for countless seconds as I ponder how he can see with the smudges on his glasses.

The smile on his face makes me feel like he thinks he’s won first place for his prized pig.

A vibration from my clutch breaks my stare down and gives me the out I need to end whatever this is intended to become.

“Uh, it could be work. If you’ll excuse me for a moment.”

“Not a problem. Come find us when you’re done,” Mom says.

I make a beeline from the group of five as my heart races with each step I take away from them. I enter the hallway a minute later and retrieve my phone to see an unsaved number on my screen. I unlock my device and open my text app to read the new message that awaits me.

380-331-2026:

Hey, it’s Nicole. My brother has agreed to a date with you. I’ll let you know the specifics once he provides them.

Me:

You can give him my number so you don’t have to feel obligated to be our middleman. *winking emoji*

380-331-2026:

Say less.

My heart beats faster, my teeth sink into my bottom lip, and my palms become sweaty as I reread Nicole’s message.

I have no idea what her brother’s name is or what he looks like, but damn if I’m not excited.

One thing I know without question is that he should be different than the two men I have encountered since my arrival tonight. Or at least I hope so.