Chapter 22 #3
Meadow looked up at him. His outfit complimented hers to perfection even though they didn’t plan it.
They looked like they were made for each other.
Zaire wore a cream colored crochet designer short sleeve button down with navy blue slacks that hugged his lower half beautifully showing off his sculpted thighs.
His jewelry showed he was about his money, but the tatts and grill let the world know he wasn’t just for show.
That gun on his hip was the truth teller of where he came from and how he moved.
Her voice came out small. “Why me?”
He glanced down, eyes softening in a way she’d never seen before. “Why not you?”
Another flash…another scream of his name.
“But-”
“But nothing,” he cut her off gently. “Like I said, you’re mine…for the world to consume, but don’t touch.” He winked, pulling her hand to his lips, to place a gentle kiss there.
Her stomach fluttered again.
The good kind…the terrifying kind.
“Meadow!” Tia called out, as she and Blain tried to get through the mayhem. They’d just arrived and once the press realized they were no one of importance, they ignored them and blocked their way.
Looking around, Meadow knew she’d heard her friend, but she couldn’t see her.
“Aye, let them through,” Zaire called out to security who made a way for Tia and Blain to step through.
“Girl!” Tia huffed while she wrapped her arms around Meadow. “This is a lot.”
“Girl, I know…but we’re here now, so let’s blend in with the celebrities.”
Blain and Zaire dapped it up and fell into light conversations as they headed towards the door.
Finally, they stepped through the private entrance lobby - quiet, dimly lit with gold accents everywhere. The doors closed behind them, shutting out the chaos.
Meadow let out a long breath she didn’t know she was holding.
Zaire turned to her fully. “You sure you cool?”
“I’m…overwhelmed,” she admitted,“ but I’m okay.”
“You don’t gotta pretend for me,” he told her.
“I’m not pretending,” she insisted. “I’m with you, ain’t I?”
He studied her…slowly, intently. “Yeah,” he whispered, sliding his hand up her back. “There go my shit talkin’ baby.”
That made Meadow smile. “You better know it. Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For claiming me like that.”
Zaire smirked. “Ain’t nobody else gon’ get the chance.”
Butterflies stormed her stomach again.
And this time…she let them.
Jacory’s private listening session was inside a renovated warehouse turned neon-lit lounge. Security was tight, wristbands were red and gold, the crowd was affluent and beautiful.
Meadow tried to maintain her composure, but her pulse was doing laps.
Zaire kept his hand on her waist as they stepped deeper inside. Tia and Blain followed close behind, just as overwhelmed.
Meadow and Tia’s eyes doubled in size.
“Is that-” Meadow pointed.
“Yes, girl.”
“And over there…”
Tia almost squealed. “Yup.”
“But-”
“That too.”
They tried to walk normal but their excitement was leaking everywhere in their little gasps, little nudges, and whole-body joy.
Before Meadow could collect herself and fully take it all in, Zaire leaned down. “C’mon lemme introduce you to some of my people.”
Her stomach flipped. “Introduce me?”
He smirked. “Yeah, Introduce you.”
Zaire watched Meadow with a soft, amused smile. “You good?”
“No.”
“You in shock?”
“Yes.”
He pulled her close. “C’mon, baby…you fuckin’ with a real one.”
If Meadow didn’t know before, she was catching on now. Meeting him in Juniper Falls often made her forget who Zaire Cooks really was and what he represented.
He approached the first group of tall men and beautiful women with diamonds catching the light.
“Z!” someone called out.
Nar stepped forward with a grin, waves perfect, his diamond chain thick and those effortless dimples piercing his cheeks. Beside him was his wife, Ahvi. She was stunning in a fitted dress, low sleek ponytail, and had body for days.
Zaire did the honors. “Aye, this Meadow.”
Nar nodded respectfully. “What’s up. I see why Z got that win yesterday.” He slapped hands with Zaire. “Well deserved, by the way.”
Ahvi pulled Meadow into a gentle hug. “You’re so pretty! I love your dress.”
She understood how nerve wrecking all of this could be because she was once in Meadow’s shoes, being tossed into a world you never even dreamed of. It was a hard but worthy transition when you met genuine people.
Meadow felt out of her body. There was no way, her smalltown ass was in the same room as Thee Nar— international, highly awarded rap star. She loved his music and rapped it word for word like she wrote the lyrics herself.
Meadow blinked fast. “Thank you! Oh my God…hi, I— hi.”
Zaire chuckled. “Relax, cuh. They regular.”
“No, they’re not,” Meadow whispered.
Nar grinned. “She’s funny. I like her.”
Ahvi added, “Nice to meet you.”
Zaire pulled Ahvi into a side hug before he took Meadow around, just introducing her to any and every one he knew. They all praised him for his win and he tried to keep each conversation as short as possible.
Meadow almost fainted when she ran into L.A.’s fine ass but she didn’t embarrass herself. Instead, she acted like she wasn’t new to all this. Everyone was sweet so that made her assimilation easier.
L.A. was the top R&B male singer. He was sort of retired now, but every now and then he’d bless the world with a feature.
Zaire guided her to the next circle.
“Aku,” Zaire called out.
Aku turned with a soft smile, one hand resting over her tiny bump poking through her beautiful green satin dress. Her eyes glowed with that mix of Black girl magic and pregnancy softness.
“Zaire!” Aku hugged him but pulled back just as quick to check out his outfit. “I guess this cute,” she teased out her approval.
“Damn, Aku,” Zaire faked being hurt. “You too busy creating legacy…ain’t had time to put nothing together for me.”
“Oh, please,” she waved him off. “You know we’re locked in. All you have to do is hit my line.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He tapped his chest. “I just came to introduce you to the woman who gon’ carry my legacy.”
Aku’s eyes lit up. “Oh, this Ms. Meadow?”
When Zaire decided he was going to surprise Meadow in Emerald City, he reached out to Malik for some things to do. When Malik told him about the private listening party, Zaire told him all about Meadow which turned into Aku chiming in too.
Zaire nodded once, proudly, “This her.”
Aku lit up. “Girl, com’ere.” She hugged Meadow like a cousin she’d been waiting to meet. “I’ve heard your name at least ten times in the last twenty-four hours.”
Meadow’s throat tightened. “I…Wow! You’re so pregnant and gorgeous and…I’m nervous,” she giggled awkwardly.
Aku laughed. “Don’t be! We’re Black women. We welcome each other first, and judge later,” she laughed.
“Dorthy,” Malik teased, stepping up behind her with that slow Crescent Park swagger.
Malik stood tall, his broad shoulders relaxed, braids perfectly stitched to the back, tats everywhere, and that hood boy turned money boy chain shining.
He dapped Zaire. “You brought her through, cuh?”
“Yeah,” Zaire nodded. “This my baby…my Marai.”
Aku swooned. “Ugh, them Crescent boys love a fairytale.” Her eyes glossed over, thinking about her own love story. It was probably just the hormones.
Malik gave Meadow a once-over…respectful, curious…then nodded his approval. “He did good.”
He looked at Aku. “Right?”
Aku nodded proudly. “Real good...Ms. Meadow is super thick,” she lifted her hand to pop her ass a little.
Meadow cracked up, covering her face as she blushed. Zaire nodded like a proud father. He knew he did good because not only was Meadow pretty as hell on the outside, she was pretty on the inside too.
Zaire and Malik fell into hood talk using crazy words she barely understood. Aku chimed in every now and then, but Meadow was trying her hardest to keep up and stop swooning.
“We need to chop it up about sponsorship, cuh,” Malik finally said something Meadow understood.
Zaire cocked his head to the side. “I didn’t know PluggedIn does sponsorships.”
“They don’t,” Malik laughed with Zaire joining in. “But Crescent gon’ always be good.”
“Hella good,” Zaire slapped hands with Malik, pulling him into a brotherly hug. “That’s love.”
“On the set, cuh,” Malik said.
Meadow became dizzy being around two fine ass niggas that loved the color blue.
Her knees damn near gave out.
Tia elbowed her from behind. “Bitch breathe!”
Blain whispered, “This is crazy.”
Him and Tia had made their way around the room, just speaking to people and giving Meadow and Zaire space to do their thing.
Meadow mouthed, I know.
Then suddenly a soft cheer went up near the stage.
“Let’s go, Noodle!” Aku yelled, wiping her face at the gentle love between Zaire and Malik. Her man was truly amazing…truly Oz.
Noodle aka Jacory stepped up to the mic with that shy demeanor and her powerhouse voice. “First, I want to thank y’all for coming out. If you’re here, you’re special to me…otherwise I need that check.”
People laughed and some whistled.
Jacory’s hair was in its natural state, just free and flowing without effort. Her makeup was flawless and her red two-piece set fit the theme perfectly.
Her husband, Bu stood off to the side in red, arms crossed, eyes soft just for her.
Tia said, “bitchhh,” under her breath when she looked at him.
Meadow turned to look but looked away just as quick. She’d never seen a man in glasses look like he birthed the hood. His red cap was twisted to the back but something about his stance said he could get active any minute.
The room erupted in applause when the music started and Jacory’s little hips swayed.
Meadow whispered, “She’s even prettier in person, Jesus.”
Tia fanned herself. “I might cry.”
Zaire leaned down behind Meadow, hands settling on her waist. “You gon’ like this.”
Jacory tapped the mic. “What’s up, family?”
The crowd roared like church.
“I been working,” she smiled. “I got some new things to share with y’all tonight.”
Meadow whispered to Tia, “I can’t believe I’m breathing her air.”
Tia tried to contain her excitement knowing Blain was about to get on her for all that squirming she was doing in his arms, shrieked “I know!”
The first song was smooth R&B wrapped in warm bass. Jacory’s voice floated across the room, rich and soulful as the audience swayed to the rhythm.
Meadow felt Zaire pull her closer from behind, arms around her waist, lips brushing her temple as she leaned back into him.
She could’ve melted right there.
They swooned and bobbed their heads to every song she dropped.
Her first album went down as a lover girl’s classic. This was the one you played because life was good, your kids were beautiful, and the man who’s heart you held in the palms of your hands had good dick. This felt like love in a bottle that you find on a stranded island when all hope is lost.
But then Jacory paused the music and grinned. “Y’all really like that last one— this next one, though…this one’s more personal.”
“You know my heart bleeds red.” She winked at Bu.
Tia leaned in to whisper. “Is this the key to success…fall in love with a gang member?”
Meadow tried not to laugh but couldn’t hold it in. “Is Blain a gang member?”
“Girl, I don’t know. I think he just threw something up on the low.”
The Bloods in the room cheered.
Bu smirked, holding up his set, proud as ever.
“But…” Jacory smirked mischievously, “I also got a brother who’s been reppin’ blue since he came out the womb.”
The Crips in the room popped off.
Malik laughed, covering his face. “Here she go-”
Zaire shook his head, smiling. “She messy.”
Jacory pointed at Malik. “This one’s for you.” When she spotted Zaire, she added, “Oh, and that Black golfer whose first name they refuse to say is here too...Zaire.”
Meadow smiled like she was the Black golfer.
The DJ dropped a west coast beat.
It was clean, heavy, but had that signature creamy sound that tasted like lowriders, palm trees, block cookouts, and long summer nights.
Malik and Zaire looked at each other, too sexy to be in the same room.
Meadow and Tia didn’t know whether to look at Jacory or Zaire and Malik.
Malik stepped forward automatically…shoulders loose…footwork precise.
Feet shoulder width apart, confidence to the sky, he heel-toed while moving with a military styled cadence that showed where he was from. He hit a slow crip walk, smooth as a car coasting down a clean boulevard.
The crowd erupted and a few other members joined him.
“AYEEEEEE!” Aku hyped, winding her own hips knowing what that dance taught her husband how to do. If she wasn’t crying, she was ready to fuck. Malik couldn’t catch a break.
Zaire stepped in next, chest bouncing lightly to the beat, chin lifted just an inch — enough to say he wasn’t new to this.
His first step matched Malik’s heel-toe, but he added a slide. Right heel in…toe out…dragged the foot back like it was on water, then the other side.
Controlled…lazy, smooth…Black boy joy.
His chain swung in tiny circles against his chest.
Meadow put both hands over her mouth. “Jesus.”
Tia whisper-yelled, “Bitch look at his feet.”
Malik dropped into a small bounce… chest, shoulders, then feet, before pivoting clean into a crip walk shuffle.
Two taps forward. One tap back. A tiny hop. A toe spin.
He spelled out the letter C with one foot, carving it into the floor like he’d written it his whole life.
Zaire followed with his own variation…heavier on the toe taps, lighter on the heel, adding a little dragging backwards hop that made the crowd lose their minds.
Meadow pulled her phone out, just to capture him in the way he truly looked to the world— at least to the people who matter— to her.