SAINT BAPTISTE 2: the soul ties series

Chapter 4

Knock.Knock. Knock.

“Saint? Your brother is here,” My housekeeper Maurine yelled from the other side of my bedroom door.

“Aight. Tell him to wait in my?—”

The door opened and Blaise walked in before I could tell her to tell him to wait in my office. We locked eyes through the full-length mirror I stood at. “Fuck you would have done if I was in this bitch naked, nigga?”

“Same shit I’m doing now—not give a fuck.” He turned to close the door behind him. “Thank you Maurine. Appreciate you sweetheart.”

He shut the door completely and continued into the bedroom. I turned my attention back to the mirror. Adjusting my tie, I kept my focus there. Refused to look over at him. I knew what he wanted. We had a family meeting at twelve. It was ten. He didn’t show up early because he missed me.

“What the fuck you want nigga? Meeting don’t start til’ twelve, bitch,” I said through a smirk.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t expect him to show up early. Honestly, I expected him earlier. Last night, reality got away from me. I slipped. So much that I forgot who the fuck I was and got a little sloppy. That’s what he thought. I, however, knew what the fuck I was doing. He didn’t see it that way. I didn’t give a fuck though. I had the situation under control. Didn’t need him to do what he did. Wished he hadn’t. That body was mine and he took it from me. I didn’t need his help. I didn’t need anybody’s help. If I needed him, I would have called ‘em up. I didn’t do that. The only assistance I needed was from the niggas I got it from—security. That mission I was on was personal. I kept the business side out, for this reason specifically. But because I was who I was and nothing about last night went as planned, he was tipped. Deuce hit him. Told him I was on some wild shit and that was that. Blaise played the back, watched from a far and only showed his face when necessary. Had I done shit the way I was supposed to, I would have never known the nigga was even out there.

Shit was crazy to me though, honestly. How this nigga, the nigga that always flew off the fuckin’ handle, had shit to talk. I fly off that bitch one time and what he do? Chastise me. Try to school me? Blaise couldn’t school me. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. That was why I was in the position I was in, and he was in his.

“Oh, that’s how you greet me? After I saved you last night?” He asked with a condescending smirk.

I laughed. “Nigga. You didn’t save shit. I had it under control.”

“Did you?” He asked before sitting on the chaise at the end of the bed. “You had it under control fré? No clean-up crew on?—”

“Fuck I need a clean-up crew on standby for? Niggas get slumped in the city every fuckin’ day, B,” I interrupted with a laugh. “Ay, which one of us went corporate in this bitch? Hm?”

I was in a mood. A terrible one. Probably would be for a nice lil’ minute, low key. Came back to an empty bed. Yeaaaa, a nigga would be lying if I said I didn’t expect that shit neither. The sun was up when I made it back. Barely. Just creeping over the horizon. But damn shorty, really? That’s how you do me? I was heated. I mean... fuck! I thought she’d at least let me take her home. Thought she’d at least give me that. I mean... did I deserve it? Fuck no. But to leave me like that? In the middle of the night? Nah. That shit didn’t sit right with my spirit. Ate at me viciously.

As soon as I noticed she was gone, I called her. It didn’t go through; she blocked me. That fucked me up. Almost sent me doing about one hundred on the freeway. But… I didn’t. I sat down. Had to. It wasn’t her blocking me that made me stay away. It was love. I couldn’t just force myself up on her. I’d done enough damage, hadn’t I? This shit was on me. I did that. I ended us. I didn’t show her what I wanted. She already had cracks in her and what I do? Add more. I wouldn’t overstep. Refused to risk shattering her completely. I had to leave us where we were at. I had to deal because shit, I was the one responsible for it all. That was a decision I had to learn to live with. It would for sure take time to get used to though.

Besides, we had an agreement. Sunrise. I left. Had to. Wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I didn’t settle that debt. If given a chance to relive it, I would make the same choice.

The only reason I was even up was because I didn’t sleep. Yesterday and today ran together as one because I hadn’t slept a fucking wink. Couldn’t see a day in the future where I would. I didn’t know peace without her. She was my go-to. I looked forward to every day because by the end of it, I knew I would have seen, touched, kissed, and smelled her. Was too much of a coward to end it with her. Was too much of a pussy to start a new one with her. But, spending just a little bit of time in her presence was more than enough. And if she was in one of her lil moods where she wasn’t talking to a nigga, I was cool because I knew that eventually we would be back on again. Didn’t sleep as good as knowing that at the end of my days I would have her, but I slept. Tossed and turned a bit. But I was cool. Rest came easy because I knew that the more I slept, the closer I would get to seeing, touching, kissing, and smelling her again. I had nothing to look forward to now and that really fucked with me.

“Yeah, you really losing it,” Blaise said with a laugh before standing. He walked over to me and put the back of his hand against my forehead. I knocked it away. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black Nike hoodie and leaned against the wall next to the mirror, eyeing me. “Real shit though, Saint. We need to talk about last night.”

I glanced over at him, adjusted the collar on my black Tom Ford dress shirt and took a deep breath. “For what?”

He sighed and shook his head. “Do you really need me to answer that, fré? You know what for. Whatever trip you on, nigga. I’m going to need you to come back down to reality.” He grinned and tossed his head back. “That shit felt good though didn’t it?”

I glanced at him again. Smirked a little and shook my head.

He lightly chuckled. “I’m already knowing. You don’t have to say it. I know it felt good but the difference between me and you, with yo’ lil fancy ass Tom Ford shirt on and shit nigga is that I know how to snap out of it if I have to. You don’t have any other option but to snap out of it. You still there though. And you can’t be because you the corporate nigga with shit to do.” He paused. “And a lot to lose. And if you lose—we all lose.”

We locked eyes and I nodded.

Couldn’t believe I was in the position I was in. Shit was wild. Never in a million years did I think at this stage in my life that I would be given one of them talks by this nigga.

Taking a deep breath, I ran both my hands down my head and pinched the bridge of my nose. “How much damage?”

“As much as you would expect from a triple homicide in the city, nigga,” he shrugged his right shoulder. “No suspects. No witnesses. As usual. The only problem you have is Em’.”

“Minimal damage. Nothing to talk about,” I dismissed, as I brushed by him to walk into the bathroom. “Emerald is my responsibility. I’ll get with her later.”

As expected, he followed.

Emerald was pissed. She wanted answers. What happened had to be addressed. I knew that. Shit, I jeopardized the future of her business; she had to see me. I understood. I respected it. But to give her answers meant I’d have to talk about Naoki and well… I didn’t want to do that. Not because I was embarrassed by the way I felt about her. I was past that. But because talking about her to anyone would be pointless. They wouldn’t get it. They wouldn’t understand my why. They would make it vane. They would make it surface level and there was nothing surface level about Naoki or the way I felt about her. I couldn’t put it into words.

Why in the fuck would I want to talk about the only thing in the world that made me feel? It would be different if I still had her. But I didn’t, so that flipped shit. Talking about Naoki was painful. Painful because there was nothing for me to do with all of these feelings I felt. I had to sit with them. Had to sit with what I’d done. Sit with what I’d ruined and… I didn’t like the shit. Would rather forget last night happened. Would rather forget the last few years happened, low key. But forgetting her was impossible. The way I studied her last night wasn’t necessary. It was nice, but... I didn’t need to do any of it. Everything about her was already stuck to me. Naoki was an experience.

“Minimal damage? Did you just hear what the fuck I said? You forget what type of time you was on last night nigga? No mask? Playing tag with a?—”

“Playin’ tag?” I laughed. “Yeah, aight. That nigga was barely breathin. And I did have on a mask. Pulled it down a little. The hood hid enough. Chill.”

“You a little too ‘laxed about the way you handled that shit. Should I make this a three-person meeting?”

I stopped rummaging through the vanity drawer to lock eyes with him. With a grin, I asked, “Aw, you want to call ‘da-da’, pussy?” His nostril’s flared but he didn’t respond. I looked away, shook my head, and huffed with a laugh. “Fuck out of here, bitch. Like I said, he was barely breathin. Didn’t need you to snatch ‘em up off me neither. You know how I feel about my bodies?—”

Before I could finish talking my shit, Blaise grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and hemmed me up against the wall behind me. “What the fuck you just say to me lil nigga? Do I want to call who!”

“Da-da!” I yelled in his face. “Daddy! You bitch ass nigga!”

Jahad. Da-da. His daddy. First thing out his mouth when he thought something was wrong, was ‘should I make this a three-person meeting’ as if that nigga was even included in any of this shit. He was out. He had to stay out. The fuck did he have to do with any of this shit? I had it under control.

Jah was, and probably always would be, a sensitive subject.

We rarely talked about him. We didn’t bring him up unless it was absolutely necessary. There was division between us. A lot of it. It was unsettling to say the least. We didn’t get into it or any shit like that. It was just weird between us. When he shut that door on Samuel, it was like shutting the door on us too. I tried for a while to stop the domino effect from having an impact on our relationship, but that last conversation we had over breakfast change things. I hadn’t driven the twenty-five minutes to his house for breakfast since that talk. If I was in the neighborhood, I’d drop by to see my niece and nephew, but the visits didn’t last more than twenty minutes. We checked in over the phone every now and then but that was about it.

“What I say at the meeting B? Hm? That shit apply to you too,” I continued, out of breath, before shoving him up off me. “Don’t think for one second it don’t. Call ‘eem up if you want to fré.” I laughed. “Call ‘em.”

I shifted my eyes up at him through the mirror. The tension was high, but tension was always high with this nigga.

We stayed like that for a couple of seconds before he pushed away from the wall. He slammed his hand down on my shoulder and sighed. “Can’t believe my nigga going out sad bout a bit?—”

“A what?”

Blaise’s smile grew and he laughed. “Ay, what the fuck she do to you?”

What did she do? I didn’t know exactly. What I did know was that she made me lose me. In her I lost myself in a way that was like being found. Found and then... lost again once I lost her. How in the fuck? How was that even possible?

“Listen,” He paused, snorted and moved up to stand beside me. Through the mirror we made eye contact. “You moving stupid, bro. I don’t give a fuck what you got goin on. Don’t give a fuck if the broads pussy is wetter than water. Don’t give a fuck if she suck yo dick from the back and make you speak in tongues, nigga. Get. Your. Shit. Together. Or I will be callin’ da-da, Baby Saint.” I raised a brow, and he raised his. “What, nigga? Are you not acting like a lil’ ass boy? Last night you said what? That wasn’t business. It was personal.” He smiled. “So, really... calling him won’t be involving him in the business. Now will it?”

I softened my expression and shook my head.

Checkmate.

“You a ho.”

“Yeah, I’ll be that,” He laughed. “You in position. Act like it.” He turned and extended his hand to me. “Nigga just had a whole ass meeting about being a fuckin’ boss and he out here acting like a got damn worker. What the fuck you doin? Leave that street shit to the street niggas.” He smirked and we slapped hands. “You corporate, my baby.”

It was, and always would be love.

Despite the issues we had, we were brothers with an unbreakable bond. Nothing came between us. We were raised that way. Disagreements had to be settled before we left a room. The shit we had with Jah, that was a little division. Nothing crazy. If the nigga called today and said he needed us on some murder shit with him, guess what we would do? Jump in the whip, ride out with ‘em, do what needed to be done, and ask why after. The same way Blaise had done with me. It was like that.

“With that being said… you know how this shit goes right? You gotta chill on shorty for a minute. Stay away from her and Pandora’s?—

I nodded. “I hear you, B. Aye, look?—”

“You heard me. That’s all I needed to hear, baby bro.”

He didn’t need to know the details. He didn’t scold me. Didn’t bitch about putting his life on the line. Just wanted me to do better because if I failed, we failed. I knew how important that was. Last night, I lost sight of what was important. He had to remind me. Every now and then, even the niggas with their heads screwed on right, needed a little tightening.

“You know Emerald about to nut up on yo ass right, nigga?” Blaise asked with a laugh.

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Man I’m already hip.”

As if she knew we were talking about her, my phone vibrated, and her name showed up on the screen. That was the third call this morning. Instead of picking up, I shot her a text and told her I would meet her at Vault later.

I parkedin my designated spot at Vault and killed the engine. Shifting my eyes to the dash, I checked the time. I was purposely twenty minutes late for my meeting with Emerald. We were meeting on my terms. She called and texted too many times today. Toldme when and where to meet her. I moved when I wanted to move. I didn’t like the way she tried to handle me. Shit made me feel a way. I didn’t have the right to feel any type of way, considering what I’d done—but I did. Muthafuckas needed to relax. Them niggas weren’t going to be missed and there would be no fallout behind what the fuck I did. I was good. We were good.

After grabbing the burning blunt from the ashtray, I reclined my seat and pulled from it. It wasn’t that I didn’t respect Emerald. I did. I had a lot of respect for her. But, somewhere along the line, she thought the dynamic of our relationship flipped. The scales had tipped a little and balanced more in her favor than mine. I had to tip them back into place.

Pandora’s might’ve been hers. She might’ve been the boss. But without me, Pandora’s would crumble. I was her only investor. We made a ton of money together, but it wasn’t pulling the money that would make things hard for Emerald—it was losing her affiliation with the family.

Couple weeks ago, she talked about me throwing my power around. Shit was laughable. I hadn’t exercised my power nearly as much as I could have. I could’ve forced Emerald to ban Naoki. But, see... I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t like to move that way. Today wasn’t about that. The whole thing with making her wait... it was just a subtle reminder. A light tap on the shoulder. A whisper. Just needed her to remember. That’s it. Nothing too crazy.

Hopefully she heard me.

My phone vibrated and I opened my eyes to look over at it. Lovelie, my cousin’s face lit up the screen. Dragging my hands down over my face with a grunt I let it go to voicemail. The same way I did the last two times she called. Since Emerald showed up, she’d called me three fuckin’ times. Emerald had a certain type of quiet intimidation that made people nervous. I could just imagine how agitated Lovelie must’ve been, keeping her entertained.

Deciding that I’d let my cousin suffer enough, I put the blunt out, grabbed my shit and got out of the car to head inside. I thought about creeping up on Emerald by taking the back entrance but decided not to. It had been a nice little minute since I walked through the front door and crossed over the threshold to take it all in.

Vault was my baby. It was the hottest nightclub in Royal Oak, MI, up against a lot of heavy competition. It wasn’t easy to thrive out here—especially not as a black man in a white dominated city— but we were doing well. Very fuckin’ well. I didn’t know if it was the Caribbean ambiance, the authentic creole menu, or the bad ass waitresses, but we hadn’t had a bad night yet, and we’d been in business for over five years.

Vault was the first business I acquired on my own. Samuel wasn’t happy about it. Hated that my first business was a nightclub. He thought I’d fuck it up. Expected me to fail. So what I do? Go crazy. First year open, I turned over a profit. That was huge, considering, I was just starting out. Think I got a congratulations or a well done from Samuel? Hell naw. Didn’t get acknowledged at all. He didn’t even show up to the grand opening.

The minute I put the security code in and walked through the towering black metal French doors, I fished my phone from the pocket of my jacket to set a reminder to make it a priority to stop in twice a month. Had to. Walking into Vault did something to me. Felt good to cross over the threshold and walk across the dark mahogany hardwood floors. Walking into my own crib didn’t even feel as good.

“Cuz!” Yelled Lovelie, from the bar with a bright smile. “Sak pase!”

I chucked my chin with a subtle grin. “N’ap boule cousin. You smooth?” I casually spoke, as if I hadn’t left her with the wicked witch of the west for twenty minutes past our scheduled meeting time.

I was surprised Emerald didn’t leave. She was extra pissed though. I could feel the anger coming off her back as she sat at the bar with Deuce to her left and Seven to her right. Her security. Pandora’s security, whether. Seven was head of security and gained his name from his height. He stood at a towering 7’3. Big nigga, had to be around three fifty. Deuce, his twin brother, wasn’t far off, a little shorter, carrying about the same amount of weight on ‘em. Intimidation came easy when these niggas entered a room. Rooms full of regular niggas, yeah. But... I wasn’t that. I was built different.

I couldn’t be intimidated. Em knew that shit though. I grew up scrapping with family the same size as them niggas. Uncles and cousins. Fought until my knuckles were busted and there was barely any breath left in my lungs. Had to learn how to use my fists as weapons before I was taught how to use a real one. That separated Baptiste men from a lot of niggas. Why she felt she needed them at a meeting with me didn’t make sense to me though. She knew I didn’t give a fuck about the shit that most people did. Besides, them niggas already knew what time it was. Hell, if it weren’t for them, what happened last night wouldn’t have happened. I mean… them niggas would’ve gotten it somehow someway but not in the way they did. Em had no idea her people helped me with the very shit she was pissed about. If she did, she definitely would have fired them, low key.

“Yeah,” Lovelie replied through a sigh, smoothly shifting her eyes to Emerald.

Lovelie was the same age as Tasha, but they were nothing alike. If they were, I would have found someone else to manage my club. That was no hate to baby sis. She just hadn’t been outside enough. Sis was too green.

“Thanks for keeping Emerald company, Lovelie,” I said with a light nod, dismissing her without actually telling her she had to leave.

“Of course,” Lovelie replied with a smile before wishing Emerald a good night. Emerald nodded and thanked her for her hospitality.

I casually rested my elbow on top of the bar. “Wassup Em? Sorry to keep you waiting,” I spoke, with a squint.

She slowly turned to face me. “Sorry to keep me waiting? You’ve got some nerve, boy.” She pointed her finger at me. “The only reason I’m still here is because you’re you. And... I know you, nigga.” She added through tight lips, scolding me the way a mother would scold her child.

“You know me?” I asked with raised brows before shifting my eyes from hers to put them on Deuce and then Seven. “Shit, you sure about that?”

She didn’t know me.

Not as well as she thought she did at least.

She took a deep breath, finished her dirty martini off, and snatched her white YSL bag off the bar top. “You know what, Saint?” She paused and swung her legs to the side to stand. “After the shit you pulled last night... I don’t know anymore. I’m not too sure I do.”

Five minutes later, we were in my office. Emerald and the security guards she thought she needed. Security. For me? For the fuck what? Why would she bring them niggas here? Hm?

Emerald sighed. “You gone tell me what the hell happened last night? Or are you going to waste more of my time standing at the damn window, looking at nothing? Who is she?—”

“Why are they here, Em?” I interrupted, with my hands behind my back, crossed at the wrists.

“Just in case?—”

“Just in case?” I coolly interrupted, again, turning to face her. “And if ‘just in case’... were to occur, what the fuck you think these niggas gon’ do with me? The same shit they did with me last night, baby. Nothing.”

Emerald, seated across from my desk with her right leg tossed over her knee, locked eyes with me. And confusion did somersaults in those beautiful green eyes of her. Her thin brows knitted together as she desperately scrutinized me, trying to find something. A tell. A clue. She was trying to read me. However, she didn’t know me. Not this version. Not a lot of people could say they did. Today, I was the truest embodiment of Saint Baptiste. Gone was the fa?ade. I wasn’t the young boy who called her Amerikkan Manmi. Honestly, hadn’t been that nigga in years.

Finally, she cleared her throat and turned to Seven. “Wait for me at the b?—.”

“Outside,” I corrected with a light grin before turning to gaze out of the window again at that ‘nothing’ Emerald mentioned earlier. The leaves and Ms. Barbara, the elderly lady that owned the café across the street. The leaves were falling, and Ms. Barbara was putting her pumpkins out on her bench. It was fall. When the fuck did summer end?

“You sure?—”

“Yeah,” Emerald quickly interrupted just as I slightly turned my head to the side. “We’re good here, Deuce, baby.” From my peripheral, I noticed her give his arm a squeeze.

“We straight, my nigga?” Seven called out from the door, on their way out.

If niggas thought we formed some type of alliance because of the shit they did last night, they had it wrong. I didn’t give a fuck about them. If necessary, I would do ‘em the same way with no hesitation. The beautiful thing about today was, I was at my house. I had home court advantage and could do what the fuck I wanted to do here. Thankfully it wouldn’t come to that.

I turned completely around and grabbed the back of my chair to pull it away from the desk. We locked eyes, I nodded, and right after they walked out, closing the door behind them.

“Who is she?”Emerald asked with a fiery squint.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I retorted.

When I asked why she brought security, it wasn’t rhetorical. I really needed to know.

“Saint,” She scoffed with a frown and her head slightly cocked to the side. “Do you know what the hell you did last night? I mean... do you really know? It was all over the fucking news. You...” She angrily chuckled and shifted around in her chair. “You really got some muthafuckin’ nerve, lil’ nigga.”

I didn’t say anything. Just stroked my beard, watched, and waited, in silence. Flicking my wrist, I checked the time on my Richard Millie.

Her jaw dropped and she huffed, offended. Sitting back against the chair, she shook her head. “Mh, mh, mh. This shit is crazy. Saint, I brought them here to fuck with you, okay?”

Nodding, I said, “Yeah, I figured. Aye, do me a favor and never do that shit again. If you want me to be nice... never play with me like that again. I like Deuce and them. They some aight niggas. I would really hate to have to do ‘eem bold because you decided to play a silly ass game with me.”

Emerald was quiet for a while. We sat in silence for a good fifteen seconds before she finally said something. “I really can’t believe you’re doing me like this. After everything?—”

“How am I doing you Em? I haven’t done anything to you. Don’t make this personal. Keep emotions out?—”

“Oh, but you can huh? You can bring emotions?—”

“That’s not what?—”

“That’s exactly what you did!” She yelled and jumped up from her seat. It was cute. Watching her explode. Little ass was barely taller than the desk. A smile slowly crept up on my face. I tried to hide it because I knew it’d add insult to injury, and I honestly didn’t want to do that. I just couldn’t help it. I just couldn’t... Shit, I couldn’t take her serious. Not because she was a woman. She was just so got damn little.

Her frown deepened. “And now you laugh in my face?” She snatched her bag off the desk, preparing to leave. “I thought we were better than this. I thought we had a mutual respect. But shit,” she huffed and angrily tossed the gold strap over her shoulder. However, it wouldn’t cooperate; kept sliding down her arm. “I was wrong. Last night must’ve been your way of getting back at me for not takin her ass off the list huh? It’s never simple with you Baptiste niggas?—”

“Emerald—”

“I just can’t believe you did this to?—”

“Emer—”

“To me! Of all people! For?—”

“Emerald!” I yelled, finally getting through to her.

She flinched and the tears I saw building behind her eyes grew. Ate at me. Viciously. The minute I noticed them in the middle of her rant, I stopped smiling. I didn’t find her anger funny anymore. It wasn’t cute. Something was wrong. And it wasn’t the shit I did. Not fully any way. Emerald was a fuckin’ soldier. One of the realest, treacherous bitches I knew. She wouldn’t shed tears over that shit. We’d bumped heads before. This shit was just a little different. However, not enough to pull tears out of her.

“I apologize,” I sincerely apologized, before reaching across the desk to grab her trembling hand. “Aight? Please sit the fuck down.”

Her faced softened.

Just a little before she was frowning again.

Snatching her hand back, she took her purse off, slammed it on the desk, and sat back down. She looked off, ran her hand down the back of her neck and lightly chuckled. “I just… damn I never thought you would do me like this. I’m just fucked up because I expected better.”

“You keep saying I did something to you. The story I saw didn’t say shit about that building, baby. So, tell me, what did I do to you, Em? Exactly?”

Pandora’s was a private club. The building we operated out of was unmarked. The only way to know it was there, would be to actually know it was there. The media talked about them bodies like they talked about every other fuckin’ body in the city. Whatever it was that had Emerald tripping, didn’t have shit to do with the news. I was sure of that.

She snatched her purse off the desk and rummaged around in it before pulling a matte black envelope from it. Slamming it on the desk, she slid it across to me. Lifting her hand, she revealed a bumblebee wax seal on the ripped envelope flap. Flipping it over, I ran my thumb over the embossed lettering of her name. Everything but the bumblebee seal reminded me of Pandora’s’ stationery. The elegance was top quality.

I shifted my eyes up at her with raised brows. “Fuck is this?”

She crossed her leg over the other and hooked her finger under her chin. “Open it.”

I lifted the flap and sat back against my chair, pulled the thick card out and read it in silence: ‘Hi. You should be excited. You should be very excited. You’ve been invited. Exclusively. You’re one of forty...’. It was an invitation to ‘The Honeycomb’; whatever the fuck that was. Who are you in a room full of strangers? what are some of your deepest, darkest fantasies? what do you desire?

“Where did you get this?” I asked.

“Found it on my windshield the other night?—”

With a frown, I interrupted her. “And you’re just telling me about it?”

“I didn’t want to come to you with a problem without a solution.”

“I am the solution,” I sternly told her.

Cocking her head to the side, she huffed. “Are you though?”

“That was different. Something that won’t happen again. I can assure you that.”

I shifted my focus back to the envelope. I understood now. Why Emerald was so upset. The tears in her eyes, the pacing, the constant calling... she was worried about competition. She’d been on top for years, with zero competition. She was the only one in her community who’d elevated. Who’d taken the house parties to an actual business. Pandora’s was huge. However, it was only a matter of time before something like this happened.

I tossed the invitation on the desk and interlocked my fingers. “That’s nothing to worry about, Emerald.”

With a fiery squint, she looked at me. Would’ve thought a nigga called her a bitch, the way she glared at me. “You can’t be serious!”

I nodded. “I’m very serious. You think you can spend damn near ten years on top without even a little bit of competition? Of course you have competition, baby. I’m surprise this didn’t happen years ago and?—”

She laughed in disbelief. “I can’t believe this shit. What you did last night changes every fucking thing, Saint! A few days ago, it was simple competition. Today? Today it’s... it’s a fucking... funeral. A memorial service for Pandora’s! It won’t take long for the pieces to be put together. People noticed. People saw you. Remember the little show you put on? When you stopped? They followed you. They saw you, see them and?—”

“NDA—”

“Fuck the NDA. You know how that shit works, Saint. Stop acting like you don’t know. The only reason you’re pretending you don’t understand the gravity of what you did is because you did it. If it were anybody else who let their egos get in the way?—”

“Ego—”

“That’s all you heard, hm?” She interrupted again. “Yes, ego, nigga. If it was anybody else, you would have a completely different attitude toward all of this shit. But men and accountability had never gone hand in hand. And you know what you can’t do in this situation Saint? You cannot throw your power around. You cannot use fear. You cannot kill every got damn body that threatens to switch up on us because you couldn’t handle your got damn emotions!”

Things were shifting.

The roles of power. It shifted the minute she pulled that fucking envelope from her purse. I didn’t have any power to begin with, to be honest. I just... shit. I guess that thing she said about accountability was true.

“Now we’ve beat around that bush long enough, baby boy. You don’t have to tell me who she is. I know who she is.” Emerald stood and paced, twisting the rings on her fingers. “She’s a nurse with a hefty salary.” Emerald paused to look up at me, “A thirty-one-year-old nurse. I found that interesting... that she’s older than you.” She paused with a humph. “Anyway! No kids. Owns a nice house out in Beverly Hills, MI. Oldest of two. She’s gorgeous. And my God, the woman can work a got damn room. She’s confident, independent, a got damn force. Alluring as hell. I played the footage from last night back. Saw everything. And as alluring and beautiful as she is, she’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Most definitely nothing you haven’t seen before. So please... tell me... what is it about this one that makes her special enough to disrespect me and put everything we both built at risk?”

I sat there, stoically stroking my beard, just... watching her, but mentally miles away. Steady trapped in that memory. However, I heard everything she said. Heard the minuscule description she gave of Naoki. Listened to her tell me shit I already knew about her. Watched how unimpressed she was as she talked about her. To Emerald, Naoki was nothing special. Just... gorgeous. Just... regular. She saw Naoki the same way everyone else saw her. What made Naoki special couldn’t be researched. You couldn’t just look at her and see it.

“What happened last night shouldn’t have happened,” I replied. “Again, I apologize.”

“That’s it?” Emerald asked with a squint.

In response I threw my hands up.

“You don’t think I deserve more than that?”

“What more could you deserve? Shit Em. I apologized,” I scoffed, before pushing away from the desk to stand. I looked over my shoulder at her as I made my way over to the bar. “You want a drink?”

Emerald turned on her heels, following me. “It’s two o’clock in the afternoon,” she pointed out.

“Closer to three,” I corrected with a sly smirk and a wink. Standing behind the bar, I pulled the cork from a bottle of tequila.

The conversation about Naoki was over.

For me it was at least. I couldn’t talk about her. It was painful, remember? It wasn’t the conversation per se. It was the things I didn’t say. It was what talking about her made me feel. And the regret of knowing exactly what she was and fumbling her that drove me to pouring a shot up at two-forty in the afternoon. Usually, I didn’t drink until I was finished for the day. But shit, today was heavy. I’d already sparked two blunts and planned on finishing the one sitting in my ashtray once I got back to the whip.

Emerald crossed her forearms on top of the bar and looked up at me. “Saint,” she softly called out.

“What Emerald?” I responded, annoyingly before tilting the shot of Clase Azul up to my mouth.

“Fuck business. Fuck that invitation... fuck you being late...the shit you just said about my boys, fuck that.. and what happened last night. Let’s take all of that shit off the table right now, aight?” With a softened expression and raised brows. “For a couple minutes, let me wear my Amerikkan Manmi hat and... you,” she paused and shrugged her right shoulder with a sweet smile. “You be my Baby Baptiste.”

“I don’t need to be mothered. I have one of those.” Uncorking the bottle again, I poured up another shot. “Business is priority. That’s the only thing we have to discuss. The invitation most importantly. Everything you said was valid. The Honeycomb does pose as a threat and?—”

“What you did last night could have very well put the business at risk. Which circles back to what I was saying,” She rolled her eyes and cocked her head to the side. “You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, Saint, baby. Let’s save each other sometime by cutting to the fucking chase. You made your shit, my business the minute you decided to bring it into the business. So... like I said,” she nodded with a smile. “Fuck the business! Let’s talk about Miss Mama’s.”

Emerald grabbed the shot I prepared for myself and tossed it back before sitting on the barstool. “You got yo’self into some shit, didn’t you?” She paused, pursed her lips together and shook her head. “It’s a dangerous game you’re playing, my love,” she continued.

“What game is it that you think I’m playing, Em?” I challenged with a smirk.

“The game where you try to control a woman who cannot be controlled. Save that shit for the eleventh floor. You know that shit does not work in the real world on women of her caliber.”

I couldn’t stand her. Emerald. Sometimes, she could really get on my fuckin’ nerves. She didn’t often. Most of the time, we were good. But then were times like this where I’d wish I didn’t hit that party with Simon back in the day. I’d wish I didn’t get tied up with her ass. If I was the person I was today, I would have never gone into business with her. I would have opened Pandora’s. I would have made it mine, and mine alone. I for damn sure wouldn’t have joined the club. Would have found one separate from my own to keep my shit to myself. But... shit... you grow older, and you grow wiser. What was done, was done already. And Emerald just knew too much fuckin’ shit.

“What you’re doing... it’s going to end badly. Last night was a tragedy, but baby... it can get worst. I can’t imagine this ending well for either of you.” She leaned her head to the side. You know, with sympathy as if I needed that shit. “I care too much about you to see you get hurt, baby.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and recorked the bottle. “I need you to leave.”

She hung her head with defeat, shaking it again. “I’m just trying?—”

“And I’m trying not to take it to a place of true disrespect with you, Em. So, again... I need you to leave. I won’t ask you again,” I cut in with a squint.

She pulled her lips into her mouth, nodded, and walked away. I watched as she took her sweet time putting her shit back on.

“I care about you Saint,” Emerald somberly murmured as she pulled her white leather coat on. “And I don’t want to see you crumble over this.” She turned and hooked her purse over her arm before walking off. “You cannot control her. Every time you try you’ll fail, and your ego will be bruised. The same way it was last night. There is a lot of,” she paused and twirled her finger around as she stood beside me. Pointing at my head, she continued, “Stuff going on up there. Too much stuff. Sort your shit out. If you don’t, I’ll be forced to take my concerns to someoneelse because Pandora’s isn’t the only thing you put at risk last night. You know that though. You’re better than this. We’re better than that. So, please... get it together.”

She then brushed her hand across my cheek, kissed me on the other, and walked out.

I stood at the bar, staring off at nothing for a while. A lot of what Emerald said was true. She was right, actually... about all of it. The only problem with what she’d said was her timing. She didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. I learned long ago that Naoki couldn’t be controlled. I tried. Tried for a very long time. The submissive shit didn’t work with her. She was... different. A challenge. For a while, that’s all she was for me. Until one day, I looked up and I wasn’t trying to control her anymore. I found myself leaving that part of our ‘situation’ out of it more each day. Found myself losing control, rather than gaining it. Last night was me trying to regain it.

I huffed, poured up another shot and tossed it back with a light grunt.

I failed. Didn’t do shit but lose even more of it.