19. Khalil
“Kiy! Come on, we gotta go!” I yelled up the stairs to my slower-than-molasses daughter. I swear, the older she got, the more time she took getting ready for the day.
I blamed her damn auntie.
Kyani made it her mission to brainwash my kid with fashion tips and making it a mission to make sure she was on point with her hygiene and beauty regimen. Although I appreciated that wholeheartedly, Kiyanne made us late every single day because she couldn’t miss any steps in getting ready.
A ten-year-old should never take almost two hours to get ready.
“I’m coming, Dad!” she yelled back, finally coming down the stairs. She was dressed in her blue and yellow Detroit Vipers jersey, light denim jeans, and blue and yellow Nikes. The diamond necklace, earrings, and bracelet complemented her look, with a small, blue Glamaholic backpack purse.
Tonight, I was being honored as the MVP at the gala, so her attire wasn’t what I had chosen for her earlier.
“Really?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest and holding her gaze.
“What? I had to find my bracelet.” She shrugged.
“You know that’s not what I mean, Kiy.”
“I didn’t feel like getting dressed up, Dad. You said I have freedom of choice, no?”
I failed to mention that she also had a smart mouth that wasn’t disrespectful but would make someone feel as though she was disrespectful, even though she was a sweetheart.
“I did, but you know what tonight is. What was wrong with putting on the dress? We’re not going to a basketball game, mi corazón.”
“I know. I just want to be comfortable.”
I sighed and tossed my palms up. “Fine. We don’t have time for you to go change, so let’s roll.” I grabbed my belongings, shut down the lights, and set the alarm before we headed out the door.
“Oh, snap! We’re riding in that?” Kiy exclaimed, rushing over to the sleek, black Bentley Bentayga Hybrid I had just purchased the day before. My driver, Tyrone, emerged to open the door for her.
“Evening, Ms. Kiyanne. Evening, Mr. Grey.”
“Hi, Mr. Ty!”
“Good evening, Ty,” I replied.
“Hiii!” Both Kiy and I paused, seeing Anais already in the back of my car.
Anais Wellington.
Daughter of Orlando Wellington, the owner of the Detroit Vipers, and the woman I had partially regretted proposing to.
Why?
Because I honestly didn’t see a future with her. She wasn’t the woman I had chosen as my queen.
That woman was probably somewhere living her best journalist life.
I wouldn’t say Anais wasn’t marriage material, but her bougie ways often rubbed people the wrong way—people being the one person whose approval mattered.
My baby girl.
When I first met her six years ago, I could tell she was a little spoiled.
She had every right to be since her father owned an NBA team.
I didn’t mind spoiling the women in my life.
It was after I proposed to her that the spoiled turned into entitlement, became the highlight of every front-page newspaper, and had me second-guessing even asking her to marry me.
I liked my privacy.
Anyone who knew me or was close to me knew I kept my personal life separate from my business life. I was okay with people knowing about the proposal, but I didn’t agree with the aftermath.
Two days after I proposed, Anais had me meet with a wedding planner to pick out venues, caterers, and colors.
I literally had to tell her to slow down because I hadn’t even told my family yet, and the next day after I told her that, she went on the Brandy Lemon Show, announcing our engagement.
My mother and Nana were furious, to say the least. They did nothing to hide their disdain for her and let it be known that they didn’t like or trust her.
Not to mention, I didn’t think Kiyanne was feeling her either, and I believed the feeling was mutual.
Neither Kiy nor Anais said anything to make me believe there was bad blood, and I’d asked Kiy how she felt, and she said she was okay with us being together.
I was keeping my eye on the situation. If Anais gave me any vibes that she didn’t fuck with my daughter, she would get kicked to the curb quickly.
“Hi, Anais,” Kiy greeted blandly.
“Ms. Anais,” I corrected her.
“Sorry. Ms. Anais.”
I smirked a little and shook my head while sliding in behind Kiy.
“Nice outfit. You didn’t like the Balenciaga gown your dad got for you?”
“I try not to make it a habit of wearing brands I can’t even pronounce yet.” The snark in Kiyanne’s tone surprised me—slightly. I looked down at her with a slight frown.
“You wear brands you can’t pronounce all the time, Kiy.”
“I know, but I said I try not to make it a habit.” She shrugged.
“That’s fair.” Anais smiled at her. “But tonight is a special night for your dad. The dress would have befitted the moment, no?”
“Yes, but he gives me freedom of choice. So I chose this. I think I’m representing him in the perfect way, no?” The underlying sarcasm, tone, and flat smile on Kiy’s face definitely gave me the vibe that she had lied to me.
She wasn’t feeling Anais, and I could see it now.
When Anais’s eyes came to me with a raised brow and soft smile, I knew she felt a way about Kiyanne’s tone and delivery.
“I mean, she isn’t wrong.” I shrugged. “But I do need you to be a little kinder with your words, pumpkin.”
“I wasn’t being mean, Daddy. I answered her question.”
“It’s okay. You are right, and you did a fabulous representation of your father, sweetie.” Anais patted her knee and gave her a wide smile.
“Thanks,” Kiy replied.
I pulled my phone from the inside of my jacket pocket and saw the incoming text from Nia.
Nia:
Tuesday at three?
Me:
Sounds good.
Things with Nia had been better over the past ten years.
It took her until Kiyanne turned four to finally get her shit together.
She sought therapy and had been diagnosed with severe postpartum and bipolar depression.
Although she had improved over the years, I still had full custody of Kiy and allowed her supervised visits until Kiyanne turned eight.
It wasn’t until she got with her boyfriend, Derrick, that I loosened up a bit. I only did it because Derrick was my financial advisor, so I knew him and thought he was a good fit for Nia. She was much calmer, took her meds, and even owned a hair boutique that I helped fund.
She asked if she could spend a few days with Kiy since Derrick had to go out of town on business, and Kiy was out of school for the summer.
It took a lot of prayers and my family for me to forgive her for what happened the night my baby got burned. Since Kiy was old enough to talk, I allowed her to spend time with her moms to strengthen their relationship, something I’d always wanted.
We pulled up to the Ford House venue twenty minutes later. Tyrone stepped out and opened the door for me. I stepped out, buttoned my suit jacket as cameras flashed, and all eyes came to me.
I extended my hand to Kiy, helped her out, then did the same for Anais. The three of us posed for the cameras, then made our way inside.
As soon as we stepped inside, we were greeted by Detroit’s socialites. The decor was simple and elegant. High chandeliers and black-and-gold drapes exhibited a shimmering, barely perceptible pattern in the dimly lit building.
I shook hands with execs, actors, and brand endorsers, but I made sure I never let go of Kiy’s hand. She may have gotten used to the spotlight over the years, but she never liked being the center of attention.
Anais floated around the room, greeting everyone with a smile, making sure she stayed close to me.
It wasn’t until we made it through the crowd and Kiy saw Isa Walker, her bestie, that she perked up and let go of my hand.
“Isaaa!” she exclaimed.
“Kiy!” They both hugged each other tightly as I chuckled and greeted my best friend, Isaiah Walker.
“What up, my guy? It’s about time the new MVP made it,” he said, slapping my palm twice before pulling me in a one-armed hug.
I chuckled. “Blame ya niece. She takes ten years to get ready nowadays.”
We laughed, then my eyes went to his wife, Nicole.
“Good evening, sis. You look beautiful,” I complimented, giving her a hug and kissing her cheek.
“Hi, Lilo. Thank you. I sure don’t feel beautiful with all this damn stomach.” She smiled, rubbing her round belly.
“Aye, let my nephew make it. You carrying the next MVP in there.”
“Like hell. My son is going to be the next scientist.”
“Like hell,” Isaiah mocked. “Definitely following in his pops’ footsteps.” We all laughed while Nicole shook her head.
“Nicole. Don’t you look beautiful tonight,” Anais said, walking over and hugging her. “How are you feeling, mama?”
“Fat.”
Anais tittered. “That’s typical. But you are carrying him well. How much longer?”
“Three more tortuous months.”
“Hi, Uncle Izzy! Hi, Aunt Nicole!” Kiy finally greeted.
“Oh, now you see us?” Is asked, pulling Kiy in for a hug.
“Sorry.”
“It’s all good, baby girl.”
“Uncle Lilo, are you still coming to my recital next Saturday?” Isa asked me.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, princess.”
“Yay!”
“Is it time to eat yet? I’m starving,” Nicole said.
“Let’s get seated so I can feed my baby,” Isaiah suggested, moving over to the table with our names on it.
I pulled out Anais’s and Kiy’s chairs for them while they claimed their seats.
“You good, baby girl?” I asked Kiy.
“I am.”
I nodded and looked at Anais. “What about you, beautiful?”
“I’m fine, just need a drink.”
“I’ll get a server over. Let me go holla at your pops and the other big dawgs.”
“Okay, baby.”
I kissed her cheek then headed toward the crowd of men standing by the bar.
Before I could reach them, my eyes zoned in on the woman at the far end of the wraparound bar.
I frowned and tilted my head some to get a better look at her profile.
When she laughed at the tall, dark-skinned woman standing next to her, showcasing a set of deep dimples, I knew my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.
Piper fucking Sawyer was here.
In my space.
In my realm. Again.
Before I could stop myself, my feet were moving in her direction. She must have felt my energy because she turned fully, and our eyes locked.