Chapter 2
Chapter Two
The private jet buzzed like a party before the party, champagne popping, laughter spilling louder than the engines. Everyone was hyped about the trip.
Kennedi should’ve been caught up in it, floating right alongside them, but really, she was just happy to be back in the sky. Months grounded in Coupeville had made her world feel small, and sitting on this jet reminded her of what it felt like to breathe.
“Girl, you good?” her friend Paige slid into the seat across from her, two flutes in hand, timing her entrance perfectly. The grin on her face told Kennedi she was lit. As she should have been. Her man was about to have a show on network television. It was major.
Kennedi closed her laptop to join the moment. “I’m good. Just ready to take off. What’s the holdup?”
“Waiting on one more person. Ro—Vanni’s partner. The one I told you about.”
Her winking made Kennedi roll her eyes. Paige and Giovanni had been trying to play matchmakers. Hell, all her friends had since they’d been bitten by the love bug.
“Get a grip, Paige,” she joked while laughing.
“Okay, okay, anyway. You excited about the premiere?” Paige handed her a glass with a proud smile that made Kennedi soften. “Thank you again for doing this. He’s been a nervous wreck.”
“Paige, stop. I should be thanking you. This could take TKL, Through Ken’s Lens, to another level.” Kennedi accepted the drink, bubbles tickling her nose as she sipped. “I love y’all for this. And I got a free trip to L.A.? I can’t complain.”
“Exactly. And I’m so happy you came back home, we missed you. Have you linked with Isha and Shadow yet? Carmen’s antisocial ass—I swear I don’t know if she’s alive half the time.”
The mention of her girls tugged a smile out of her. They’d all grown up together on the same block—different ages, different vibes, but the bond was tight.
“No girl, we’ve all been busy. You’re the only reason I even leave the house these days.” Kennedi laughed softly. “Adult friendships require intention, and I’ve been slacking.”
The truth was that she didn’t know how to sit still.
Her whole identity was built on chasing.
But lately, she’d been asking herself—what do you do when you finally catch it?
What happens when there’s nowhere left to run?
She had been considering getting back to jet setting.
But some unknown force had stopped her. Coupeville was home, but more than that, she felt like it was the place she needed to be, at least for now. And she’d also listen… for now.
“Girl, I feel that. But if you come work for Gio full-time, we can hang out a lot more.” Paige winked. “I’ll even make him give you long lunches. Fuckin the boss has perks.”
“Giovanni needs to tell your ass no sometimes.” Kennedi shook her head, laughing. “I’m still weighing it. I don’t want to drown myself when I’m just getting TKL off the ground.”
Paige leaned in, eyes soft. “So proud of you, sis. We used to cut your articles out and frame them. Supported you across the seas, bitch.”
Kennedi shook her head, smiling despite herself. “You sound like a sap. But I love it, and I love you for that.” She tilted her glass toward Giovanni, who was trying—and failing—to pull Paige’s attention. “Go on. He’s been staring you down this whole time.”
“In a minute. I wanted to warn you first. Gio’s boy Ro, the one we’re waiting on? Also, the one I told you about. I told him we had someone for him. That someone is you.”
Kennedi narrowed her eyes. “So, you made me sound desperate?”
“No, his mean ass is the desperate one. But y’all are both fine as hell, and y’all would look so cute together, so it evens out.” Paige smirked, unbothered.
“Why does this feel less like a warning and more like a setup?”
“Because it’s both.” Paige’s grin widened. “He’s not your type, but that’s what you need. I need you to trust me.”
Kennedi laughed. “You don’t even know my type.”
Truth was, neither did she anymore.
“I’m on my best behavior,” she added. “No hookups. Business only. And I’m definitely not hooking up with your man’s business partner. That’s messy.”
Safe. That’s what she did. Temporary men, she could leave without consequence. Clean exits. No compromise.
Rule #1: Have fun, but never stay.
Paige smirked. “Why not?”
Kennedi swallowed it down but didn’t respond.
“I just want to focus. The premiere’s big for me.”
“Mm-hm,” Paige said, but smirked, leaning back. “He’s still a lot of man. Just… have some fun, get some dick, drink, eat good food. Live.”
“Preach,” their other friend, Blake, clapped beside them. “I can’t wait for some hotel dick.”
“Mind y’all’s damn business this weekend. I’m not kidding. Do not get on that matchmaker mess.”
Kennedi took her time pointing at each of her friends.
“Blah, blah, I’ll do what I want to do, and I can promise one look at Ro is about to change all those thoughts.”
Paige laughed, giving her a quick hug before floating off toward Giovanni’s lap.
Kennedi watched them with a mix of happiness and that hollow tug of longing.
Giovanni was the reason she was here; it was his premiere, his invitation, his generosity that had led to this moment.
He’d given her the exclusive, flown her out, and reminded her she still had people in her corner.
But that was him. Her friend had hit the jackpot.
Wedding bells were on the way; she could see it in the way they looked at each other.
“One day,” she muttered.
When she first came back to Coupeville, she’d worried she’d clipped her own wings.
Leaving the security of traditional media to be closer to her parents had felt right, but scary.
She’d spent years producing content for other people's platforms, telling stories on their terms, and she was tired of it. The political climate had shifted everything — especially for black women. So she’d walked away, built Through Ken’s Lens, and bet on herself.
Some days, it still scared her. But at least now, the stories she told were hers.
“This shit is so nice,” Blake said, dropping into the seat Paige had vacated, eyes wide like she still couldn’t believe it. “Friend, look at our life. This is crazy.”
“It’s deserved. I’m proud of y'all too.”
“Aww, Kenny. I’m so happy you're back.”
Behind them, Emon popped another bottle, laughter bubbling up with the champagne.
Kennedi had to admit, it felt good. Soon she’d be thirty thousand feet in the air, surrounded by people she’d known since the block, sipping champagne on a private jet.
She felt like a rich bitch, even if only for a weekend.
Well, they would whenever this late, disrespectful friend arrived.
She eased back into her plush seat and opened her laptop. Might as well get some work done while they waited.
Through Ken’s Lens: Giovanni Dowlen - From Coupeville to Custom
This story could change everything for her platform.
Giovanni's story was exactly what TKL needed — a Black man from Coupeville with big dreams, turning custom cars into an empire the whole world would see.
These were the narratives she wanted to amplify.
People who looked like her, focused on community and legacy.
The news stayed full of the negative, but Coupeville was growing, and she wanted to document that.
She typed quickly:
Giovanni Dowlen didn’t wait for permission. What started as a custom car shop has become the foundation for a television series generating buzz across the country. Customs by Giovanni isn’t just about cars, it’s about what happens when someone refuses to let their zip code define their ceiling.
His business partner and co-founder, Rolani Pracher, handles the custom paint side of the operation—though if his tardiness today is any indication, he handles punctuality about as well as I handle tequila. Which is to say: poorly.
Kennedi snorted at her own joke, then immediately deleted the last two sentences. She’d save the shade for her group chat.
“You working already?” Blake leaned over, champagne glass in hand. “Girl, we haven’t even left the ground.”
“Just getting thoughts down before I forget.” Kennedi grinned, fingers still flying across the keys. She was tightening her questions, shifting angles in her head; it was her process. “This profile needs to be perfect.”
“It will be. You always deliver.” Blake clinked her glass against Kennedi’s. “Now close that laptop and celebrate a little. We’re going to Cali!”
Kennedi laughed and saved the document. Blake was right. She’d figure out the rest later. Right now, she was on a private jet with her girls, about to cover the biggest story of her career, and not because of its notoriety but because it was all on her. It was personal.
The work could wait. The champagne couldn’t.
“David fuckin’ Ruffin has arrived. Fire this bitch up, it’s time to get the party popping.”
Her head snapped up. The voice cut through the cabin—smooth, deep, cocky as hell.
“This nigga here,” Giovanni groaned, already standing. “About time, bruh.”
The energy in the jet shifted. The men stood, and everybody perked up like they’d been waiting for this man. Kennedi rolled her eyes and fumbled with her phone, attempting to appear busy.
Late.
Loud.
Arrogant.
She already didn’t like him. But his cologne was sucking the air out of the plane, or was it just her?
Then a heavy Louis Vuitton duffle dropped beside her seat with a thud.
She smirked without looking up. “I hope you don’t—"
Her words stalled.
The man standing over her was not what she expected. Six-foot-something, mahogany skin, gold chains against his chest and a beard thick enough to start problems. She actually gripped the armrest.
“Yo, sorry I was late,” he said, dapping Giovanni. “Had to handle some shit. Y’all know I don't even play like that.”
“You good, bruh.”
After the dap, his gaze dropped to her. Beautiful hazel eyes. Everything else blurred — champagne, chatter, laughter, gone. Her heartbeat climbed into her throat.