Chapter 2 - The Entourage
The door swung open and four men came in together.
Tedros entered first, wide enough to make the frame look small, toothpick tucked in the corner of his mouth.
Abel slipped in behind him, gold chains knocking against his retro jacket.
Reza fixed his collar before he had both feet inside, always dressed to impress.
Darryl brought up the rear, eyes moving over the exits, then over the women.
I rose from the sofa.
Viccy had been pressed close to my left side, her fingers grazing the front of my shirt.
Spice was on my other side with her nails hooked lightly in my sleeve.
When I stood, Viccy’s hand slid off my chest. Spice let go late, just enough to show she wanted the men to notice.
Both of them shifted apart, embarrassed for half a second, then calculated glares toward the disturbers.
I met them halfway across the VIP lounge.
“My brothers.”
Tedros gave me the forearm clasp first, grip hard enough to remind me we had both come from concrete.
Abel’s handshake moved fast, palm sliding into a snap before his grin showed.
Reza kept his clean, a fist bump before his hand went up to smooth his hair.
Darryl only tapped two fingers to my chest, then let his hand fall.
Pure muscle memory.
“You’re early,” I said. “All four of you at the same time. What’s going on?”
Tedros glanced at the others. His toothpick shifted once. “We need to talk, boss.”
The round mirror table caught all five of us in pieces, cuffs, watches, knuckles, faces cut at angles. Behind it, the red sofa curved nearly around the room, long enough to handle large groups.
I clapped Tedros on the back and led them over. “Then sit.”
Viccy and Spice moved toward the ends when I pointed. Viccy crossed her legs and grabbed her phone. Spice leaned back and followed the group with her gaze.
I took the center. Tedros and Darryl dropped to my sides. Abel landed near Viccy like the room had pulled him there. Reza chose the space by Spice and adjusted one cuff before he even looked at her.
Abel leaned toward Viccy, voice quick and bright. “You one of the floor girls, right? But I rarely even see you there.”
Viccy gave him a shrug, then slid an inch away when his chains swung too close.
Reza tilted his head toward Spice with that polished look he used on athletes, rappers, and women who wanted both. “Working regular tables right? I bring in the cream of the crop, I’ll introduce you if you give me a chance.” He lifted his hand toward her chin.
Spice almost liked that. Her mouth twitched, then she shrugged him of her. Her eyes cut back to me, and she remembered who else was sitting there.
I looked past all of that. “Talk to me.”
Darryl rubbed his thumb along his jaw. His eyes stayed on mine. “It’s your house.” That was all he said.
Abel started with moving hands. “Look, boss, I ain’t trying to make this bigger than it is, but she came in hot and started talking payroll and then Reza was all calm with it, you know how he do, but she was not having none of that.”
Reza turned from Spice, face tightened around the edges. “Let Tedros say it.”
“Out with it,” I said.
Tedros held my stare. “Lily fired us again.”
For a second, the bass below was the only thing moving.
“Say that again,” I said.
“She fired us,” Tedros said. “All four.”
Reza’s jaw worked once before he smoothed it away. “Terminated. Effective immediately. Her words.”
Abel let out a short laugh with no humor in it. “Man, she looked right through me like I ain’t been running for you since elementary school.”
Darryl gave one slow nod. “She meant it.”
I sat forward and looked at each of them. Tedros had gone still, toothpick pinned between his teeth. Abel’s knee bounced until he caught it with his palm. Reza kept fixing a cuff that was already perfect. Darryl watched me the way he watched a bad corner before a turn.
“It’s been a few years since the last time,” I said. “I thought we were past that.”
Nobody rushed to agree.
That silence did more than their words. These men had eaten at my table, driven my cars, guarded my doors, carried my name. They were my boys. Lily knew that. She knew loyalty was everything to me.
Tedros leaned back, shoulders crowding the sofa. “Then why she swinging at us? Trouble home?”
“Everything is perfect between us,” I said.
Reza studied me like I had just given him a price too low to trust. “Perfect?”
I looked toward the glass without standing yet. My wife had never lacked fire. I loved that about her, even when it cost me patience. But she was sharp because she cared. Because the clubs were ours. Because I was hers.
“As far as I knew,” I said.
Tedros’s voice dropped. “Boss, a woman don’t fire your whole right hand unless she trying to make you feel it.”
There it was.
I pulled my phone from my pocket. “Then she can say it to me.”
Abel jerked his chin toward the glass wall. “You might want to look first. Your wife downstairs putting on a whole show.”
The room narrowed to the window.
I crossed to the glass and looked down over the Cherry Room.
The dance floor churned beneath us, bodies packed shoulder to shoulder, red booths glowing at the edges, servers threading through with bottles held high.
Behind the glass, mouths opened and closed without sound while the bass came through my shoes.
Finding Lily did not take long.
She was in the middle of it, exactly where she wanted to be seen. My wife did not dance loose when she was happy. She danced like that when she was angry. Every turn had a target. Every arch of her back was measured for the VIP lounge glass.
Her skirt had climbed high on her thighs.
The watch I bought her cut across the strobes when she lifted her arm around a stranger’s neck.
The deep cut of her blouse dipped lower than she wore it for dinner with me, low enough that men around her forgot to breathe while they watched her breathe.
She ground back against the man behind her, then turned away before he could believe it. Another man stepped in. She let him.
I was not jealous. Men hovering around Lily didn’t bother me. I was around gorgeous women all the time.
I hit her number.
Down below, she kept moving. The phone rang in my hand while she pressed into the stranger behind her.
His hand hovered near her hip, scared to land, greedy enough to stay close.
Lily tipped her head back and laughed at whatever he said, though I knew she had not heard him. She knew the call was mine.
Behind me, no one spoke.
The call died.
My thumb hit her name again.
This time her body stopped on the beat. She lifted her face toward the second floor, toward the tinted glass, toward the place where she knew I stood. She found my outline among the silhouettes and held it.
Even from that distance, I knew the look. Lily’s anger always started in her mouth. Her bottom lip tucked under her teeth for one hard second, then released. She wanted me to see she was furious. She wanted me to see she was not sorry.
Then she turned and walked off the floor, one hand already digging into her purse.
She pulled the phone free and stared at the screen.
I watched her decide whether to answer her husband or punish him again.