SEVEN #4
Nina recognized the look. It was the same thing she did when she first stepped into the warehouse on her first day as CEO.
“Have at it. Let’s see what you find. I always get lucky when I come here.”
“Is this one of those overpriced thrift stores?”
“Who cares? We got your big cousin’s card.” She winked at him and went to go find her a new jean jacket.
Thirty minutes later, she found him touching fabrics with the tips of his fingers.
“Found anything good?”
He held up a brown suede jacket from one rack and a sheer black blouse from another along with a pair of men’s trousers with a wide leg and high waist.
Nina watched quietly because his choices were interesting.
He wasn’t just grabbing labels, the young boy was building a look and a story too.
“Why these?” she asked after a while.
Cairo looked down at the pieces like he was embarrassed to explain.
“You can tell me,” she probed, genuinely wanting to know.
He hesitated before finding his voice. “The jacket feels like somebody’s father wore it in the seventies. Like he had a Cadillac and secrets.”
Nina’s eyebrows lifted. “What about the blouse?”
“That’s the daughter’s. She found it in her mama’s closet but wore it different. You know how sometimes you don’t want to be a part of your family but you still can’t help but carry pieces of them around.”
Nina stared at him. Boy, if only you knew, she thought.
Cairo panicked. He’d shown his weirdness way too soon. He didn’t even know this lady. “I know I sound stupid. Sometimes I can be─”
“No,” she said softly. “Not at all. Don’t apologize for thinking out loud.
Your thoughts are safe with me,” she reassured him like she wished someone would’ve done when she was his age.
Life had matured her faster than she expected.
Nina wasn’t even ten years older than him, but she surely felt like it.
His face relaxed and his shoulders loosened as he took a deep breath. The permission felt like a relief.
They spent hours moving through the city.
Nina took him into a couple of different fabric stores that she knew her mom used to visit back in the day when she was redecorating their brownstone and wanted the curtains to match the pillows.
Everything was custom in their home. The new duo stopped by Ephrem’s bookstore, but he had one of the kids he mentored working today.
Nina told Cairo to get whatever he wanted, and as expected, he picked up three coffee table books on the history of Fashion.
With every stop, he slowly began to open up more.
Nina learned a lot about him throughout the day, and they were genuinely enjoying each other’s company.
He was mixed and growing up in the South, that came with its own challenges.
He shared with her that he felt like people tried to decide what he was before he could decide who he wanted to be.
In North Carolina, he was too Black in some spaces and not Black enough in others.
In fashion, he said, maybe he could build something where nobody got to tell him which parts of himself belonged.
Nina listened quietly. It made sense as to why Jio’s mama pushed so hard for them to link. He wasn’t just looking for an opportunity by moving to New York. Cairo was in search of his identity and a language to define who he was and ultimately, who he wanted to become. Nina understood him.
By late afternoon, they sat at a café with shopping bags piled at their feet.
Cairo pulled a sketchbook from his backpack and hesitated before sliding it across the table.
“Take a look,” he said quietly.
Nina opened it carefully.
The sketches stunned her. Nina loved that all of his coats had dramatic shoulders like the 80s and the dresses that he designed seemed to be inspired by church fans with an added flair of a matching veil.
He seemed to have an eye for Menswear that could’ve given Fashion Week in Milan a run for its money.
Nina dragged her finger along the page. “These are all so beautiful.”
Cairo shrugged. “No one is taking me serious. I’m not airbrushing street signs on t-shirts. I think I have a real chance of being someone.”
“Don’t wait on anyone to give you anything. Go get it yourself,” she preached.
“My cousin didn’t even want to answer the phone. I need somebody to care just as much as I do.”
“Jio cares.”
“No, he doesn’t and that’s okay. He doesn’t owe me anything. I haven’t seen him since I was a little kid, but I’m not stupid. I know that they’re our rich side of the family.”
“That’s just Jio. He acts annoyed so that nobody knows he cares.”
“I used to be scared of him when I was younger,” he shared with her.
Nina laughed. “You’re not the only one.”
“Are yall in love?”
For a second, she didn’t know how to answer, so instead she closed the sketchbook and slid it back across the table. She glanced out the window and stared at all of the people moving along the street. Hands filled with cell phones, coffee cups, and grocery bags.
“We are…sometimes.”
Her phone rang, pausing the conversation. She looked down to see that her mother was calling.
Nina knew it wasn’t cool how agitated she got whenever anyone with her last name reached out to her.
It couldn’t have been normal. She’d been doing this thing where she reminded herself that there was a young woman out there wishing she could just hear her mama’s voice one last time.
She needed to work on being more grateful to still have her mother here on earth.
She didn’t want to answer but she did anyway. Something in her spirit tightened before she even slid her thumb across the screen.
“Hello?”
Her mother’s voice came through clipped and furious.
“Where are you?”
Nina straightened in her seat. “Why?”
“I am at Beaumont.”
Nina’s stomach dropped.
Beaumont was not just a bakery. It was Gotti territory dressed in flour, sugar, butter, and legacy.
It belonged to Jio’s aunt, but everybody knew what it truly was.
Nina didn’t put two and two together until she got with Jio.
Although the bakery was a neighborhood staple known for its homemade cakes and pastries, it was also a front to clean drug money.
“What are you doing there?” Nina asked carefully.
“I came to get dessert.”
She knew her mama was on bullshit, but why today out of all days?
Jackie Marcelle never stumbled into anywhere accidentally. She moved with intention, even when she pretended otherwise.
“Mom, you told me you would never go there again after what happened with─”
Her mama cut her off. “Do you know that no one will serve ME?” The shock dripped from her lips.
Nina’s eyes widened.
Cairo looked at her with concern.
“What do you mean nobody will serve you?”
“I mean exactly what I said. I have been standing here for fifteen minutes while they pretend I’m invisible.”
“Mom, what do you want? I’ll get it for you.”
“No, I want to be treated like the LOYAL PAYING CUSTOMER I AM!” she shouted.
For a split second, Nina wondered if her mama was drunk because what the fuck was she thinking by going there?
“I’m on the way,” she told her, motioning to a server that they needed the check pronto.
By the time Nina reached the bakery, tension had already spilled onto the sidewalk.
Two black trucks sat outside with tinted windows.
“My Lord,” she mumbled under her breath.
Men lingered near the curb pretending to smoke, though Nina knew what Jio’s men looked like when she saw them. Beaumont’s warm golden sign glowed above the entrance. It was pretty and inviting, the complete opposite of what was happening inside.
Cairo stayed close behind her, clutching his bags.
“You should wait in the car.”
He shook his head, “I’m family too.” Although, he wasn’t a Gotti, he still considered himself a part of the bunch.
Inside, the bakery smelled like vanilla, caramelized sugar, and lots of trouble.
The bakery was gorgeous in a classic way. Black-and-white tile floors. Gold shelving. Glass cases full of lemon pound cake, red velvet cupcakes, peach cobbler tarts, butter cookies, and brownies wrapped neatly in clear boxes.
Jacqueline Marcelle stood near the register in a camel coat, diamond earrings sparkling beneath the soft lights, her purse clutched tightly in one hand. She looked furious… and humiliated.
Behind the counter stood Jio’s aunt, Valencia, whom everyone called Auntie Vee. She was a pretty older woman with deep brown skin, silver-streaked hair pulled into a bun, and eyes sharp enough to cut a ribbon. She wore a black apron dusted lightly with flour.
Two other women stood behind her, ready for whatever.
Nina stepped forward.
“Mama, I told you to leave.”
Jacqueline turned immediately.
“Do not mama me.”
Nina exhaled slowly. “Why are you doing this?”
“What happened is I came into this establishment to purchase dessert, and these people have refused to serve me.”
Auntie Vee laughed but wasn’t nothing funny.
“These people?”
Jackie’s eyes narrowed. “That’s what I said, didn’t I?”
She stepped from behind the counter slowly.
“Nina, I like you but your family’s money is no good in here. Please escort your mother out before my nephew gets here.”
The room silenced.
Nina moved instinctively between them. “Jio is busy.” She tried to pull on her mother’s arm, but she jerked away.
“Mom, come on… please let’s go.”
The last thing she needed right now was big daddy pulling up. He had a sweet spot for his auntie, so she knew that she wouldn’t be able to keep him calm.
Jackie scoffed. “Jio is busy,” she mocked her baby girl. “Busy doing what? Selling drugs! Poisoning our community!” Her tone reeked of disgust.
“Why are you doing this?”
Her mama seemed unrecognizable. She wanted to know what prompted her to stop by the bakery and act an ass. This was completely out of her character.
“Because I’m busy too and I’ve wasted my day by being here for an hour. Give me what I asked for!”
Nina again wondered if her mama was drunk or something.