Chapter 2
The last place Boogie wanted to be was the damn strip club, especially not this rundown place.
At thirty-four, he had run his course with the club scene.
Back then, it was fun as hell. He used to show out on the dance floor and had some pretty slick moves to pull the ladies, not to mention the fat ass pockets.
Maturity wrapped around him, though, because his nose turned up at the sight of all the strippers vying for his and his brother’s attention.
“Y’all look grumpy as hell,” Chloe said as she plopped down onto Denzel’s lap and hugged his neck.
“You know this ain’t our scene,” Denzel said before he nuzzled Chloe’s neck.
Chloe giggled and then eyed Boogie. “I don’t know. Boogie might be sniffin’ around here more often.”
Boogie shook his head and tried to keep the smile off his face.
Chloe had pestered him and Denzel about Sweetie since she took her ass to the hotel.
Neither brother was willing to give up the gossip though.
Not at the moment. Denzel carefully watched Boogie for the rest of the night.
Boogie knew it was because his brother was worried about him and Sweetie reconnecting.
If anyone knew how much Boogie loved Sweetie back then, it was Denzel.
He didn’t know until after the blowout at the school, but Boogie broke things down for him that very same day.
He broke it down to his entire family. They were understanding but warned him to stay away from her because her dad was no good.
That didn’t stop him from trying though.
Sweetie had a hold on him not even he could explain.
Sweetie Bishop. He couldn’t believe it. He always knew he would see her again.
He thought about her often over the past two decades.
He never told a soul that because they would chalk his thoughts up to a childhood crush.
Puppy love. Boogie knew differently though.
Sweetie had always been his baby. Since he was a young boy, he was convinced that they would get married and grow old together. Fuck their family beef.
Seeing her here, working in this dump, had him overly curious as to what had happened to her in the past twenty years.
He tried finding her as soon as he turned eighteen, but he hadn’t been successful.
It was okay, though, because her grown, fine ass had landed right in his lap that night.
Literally. And since he had officially spent two hours with his sister-in-law for her birthday, he figured it was safe for him to dip out.
He stood. “On that note . . .”
“What? No. It’s not even midnight,” Chloe whined.
Boogie leaned down and gave Chloe a kiss on the cheek. “Past my bedtime, sis.”
She pouted, but Denzel handed her another shot, and she immediately perked up.
“I’ma walk him out. You good here for a second?” Denzel asked.
Chloe looked around at all the security guards and the men that worked with Denzel and Boogie before she looked back at her husband. “I think I’ll be okay.”
Denzel and Boogie chuckled. Chloe never stayed quiet about the fact that she hated having an entire entourage wherever she went, but she couldn’t complain too much. She had married into the DeLuca family and knew what that entailed before she made that commitment.
Once they were outside, Boogie inhaled a deep breath of the nighttime air and prepared himself for the lecture Denzel was no doubt about to give him.
“You goin’ to see her?” Denzel asked as he pulled a blunt from behind his ear. He lit it and looked directly at Boogie, who chuckled.
Grabbing the back of his neck, he responded. “Yeah, Zel.”
Denzel inhaled from the blunt a couple of times before he passed it to Boogie.
“You know Pops ain’t gon’ like this shit.”
Boogie nodded as he inhaled his only drug of choice. It instantly calmed his nerves, and he nodded. “I know.”
“You always been a mothafuckin’ rebel.”
“Especially when it comes to her.” Boogie shrugged.
“Why it gotta be the ops’ daughter, man? I never understood that shit.”
“I never understood it either, Bro. I just need to go see about her. Make sure she straight. You know how I feel about her. It don’t matter how long it’s been.
And she workin’ in a place like this, livin’ out of a hotel .
. . it don’t make sense to me. Her daddy got enough money to end world hunger. ”
Denzel accepted the blunt back from Boogie and nodded slowly.
His dark skin glistened under the streetlamp, and his crisp waves looked like they were glittering from the oil he put in his hair earlier.
His older brother had taken on the serious role.
He always dressed like he was on the way to a business meeting and didn’t often crack jokes, but he had the biggest heart.
Boogie, on the other hand, was the menace. He played all day and talked a lot of shit. He marched to the beat of his own drum, which was something his brother and father struggled with because they were focused on keeping their billion-dollar operation in line.
“Just be careful. I’ma have Tank and Renzo follow you to make sure you good.”
“It ain’t that serious,” Boogie said dismissively.
“When it comes to your safety, Bro, it is that serious. You know how we do. They’re gonna follow you.
You won’t even know they’re there. Just holla at them if you need backup.
And if you decide you gonna be keepin’ time with shorty, then you need to tell Pops.
I ain’t ’bout to be holdin’ this secret in for you. ”
Boogie nodded his head begrudgingly. He knew his father would want to know about Sweetie coming back around, and as far as Boogie was concerned, she would be. He didn’t care if she had a nigga. He would have to raise up and get lost.
That conversation with his father wasn’t particularly one he wanted to have though. He was an understanding and kind man, but when it came to the Bishop family, he didn’t trust it one bit.
“Got you.”
They stood there and finished off the blunt in silence before Denzel said, “You know this is bad timing, right? Pops is about to step down and hand us the world on a damn platter, and here you go messin’ wit’ that Bishop girl again. He might not step down now.”
Boogie had also thought about that, but again, he didn’t really care. There wasn’t much that would get in the way of his bag, but Sweetie Bishop? She could either be his everything wrapped up in a bow, or she could be his downfall. He was willing to take that risk.
Instead of responding to his brother’s last comment, he gave him dap and a brotherly hug. “I’ll get up wit’ you tomorrow.”
“Make sure you do that.” Denzel saluted his brother and walked back into the club.
Boogie knew that Tank and Renzo, two of their bodyguards, would be out soon. He wasn’t about to wait for them. The niggas had his location and would catch up.
He hopped into his car and made the short drive toward the Ritz. His thoughts drowned out the music as he thought about the dance Sweetie gave him. Baby had grown all the way up, and he loved to see it. What he didn’t love was the thought of her giving another nigga the kind of dance she gave him.
That thought made him frown as he pulled up to the valet. He got out quickly and tossed his keys to the kid at the outside desk.
“Make sure my shit straight,” he said as he handed the boy, who looked to be barely eighteen, a hundred-dollar bill.
His eyes lit up. “Got you, G.”
Boogie walked into the hotel and looked down at his phone.
A smile spread across his face when he realized Sweetie texted him that the room was secured, and she left his name at the front desk.
A very small part of him wondered if life had turned her into someone else.
He had wondered if she would take his money and dip, but Sweetie still seemed to live up to her name.
Not a rotten bone in her body. As sweet as pie, just how he remembered her.
Once he got his key, he made his way up to the penthouse. Nerves bounced around his body, but he was cool as a cucumber on the outside. When the elevator doors opened into the suite, he grinned.
Sweetie sat comfortably on the couch with her feet tucked under her and a glass of wine in her hand.
She wore a silky cream-colored robe, and he peeped some black lace underneath it.
His dick hardened, but he coached it down.
He wasn’t there for that . . . yet, anyway.
He genuinely wanted to talk to his first love and pick her brain.
When her cat-like brown eyes met his, they had a brief stare down. Years of unsaid things passed between them. Finally, Boogie kicked off his shoes and walked toward her.
“Sweetie Bishop,” he muttered as he sat beside her. He didn’t hesitate to pull her into him. He didn’t know why he felt like he could do that with a woman he hadn’t seen in twenty years, but he did. He always had been possessive over her, even as a boy.
“Darren DeLuca,” she murmured.
He smirked as she laid her head on his chest. Sweetie and his mama were the only two people alive who could get away with using his government.
In his early twenties, he laid a nigga down for using his real name.
It caused a lot of chaos that his father and brother had to dig him up out of, but Boogie didn’t regret it.
He was a bit touched in the head like that.
Respect was at the top of the list for him.
Anybody could get it if they showed even an ounce of disrespect.
Boogie sat there with her in his arms and breathed her scent in. She smelled like flowers and vanilla or some shit. She smelled like home. He loved it. Sweetie always had a way of making him feel like forever was an option. He was glad to see that hadn’t changed.