Chapter 9
Nine
“ T hank you,” Rayna murmured on the screen when someone handed her a plate of food.
I dipped another fried zucchini chip into the tzatziki sauce. “You’re working, working today or just working?” my delivery uninspired.
Next to me, Sundryia snickered while tabbing through her phone. She and I were at a Greek restaurant just having finished our meal when Rayna FaceTime ’d from her job out in Southern California. Sundryia answered from her laptop so we both were in the video.
I could see Rayna eyeing the person who’d served her food until the two grew in physical distance. Then she returned sassily, “I’m always working when I’m here.” She rolled her eyes. “Board meeting today.”
“You work like two days a month.” Sundryia laughed again.
Rayna shrugged, unraveling a linen napkin to pull out utensils. “More like five. And when I do, I work.” She silently prayed over her food.
I began wondering how I’d feel if I only worked when I wanted, or my job only required me to perform a few times a month. Rayna was wealthy, thanks to her husband. Oddly enough, as a tenured physical therapist, she could command a healthy salary to sustain herself and her three children independently.
“Wait. You’re on the board?” I asked. “Isn’t that…like…a big deal?”
Rayna began eating a salad. “For Smith , Katz I soon learned how bad the women were. I mean…flawless women, thick, slender, tasteful BBL recipients, classy, and seductive women. And they weren’t random. The chicks rolling with Aleesa were top tier—students from the local colleges, models from the top Philadelphian agencies, and cheerleaders from the local professional sports teams.
When I formed a plan, it was to use Aleesa’s girls at the clubs here at KAHRI to influence men to patronize them. The plan worked, and almost instantly. I’d even given her a small suite to use in case one of the girls became too intoxicated to leave or needed a place to refresh, or, shit, if Aleesa wanted to use it as a perk to grow her business. She’d even used the suite herself leisurely several times over the years.
How her girls engaged with the men at my clubs was their business to be had unless it involved sex or drug usage or exchange. We had rules here. Those rules were established and set in place before we began doing business. One of the biggest risks in the entertainment world I was employed in was avoiding human trafficking, prostitution, and drug distribution. Most of the efforts of my watchful eye went to making sure the ADJ Enterprise brand thrived independent of those three entities. Here was yet another effort of keeping human trafficking away.
“It’s my fuckin’ suite. You ain’t got a single clue about what’s happening in that muthafucka.”
A hard scoff pushed from my belly, “That’s where you forget who I am, sweetheart. This is my home—my playground. I know exactly what’s going on in every corner. And what I don’t know, I will within thirty-six to seventy-two hours. You had those girls in there for days.”
“Them bitches from Baltimore. They came up to do Summer Vibes at Kimya’ and Ladies Night at Club Tease . How I’m ‘posed to get the same chicks at both parties when they ain’t on the same damn night? Plus, having them stay in the suite is cheaper for me!”
“Get the fuck outta here with that wack ass excuse. No respectable girls will spend days sleeping on the couch and floor to attend parties unless they’re being paid to fuck and suck.”
Aleesa didn’t hoard women to get them to attend my clubs. They weren’t gathered and brought in on a ship. She networked with them individually. The women she brought in didn’t necessarily come in groups so much as they did in droves. These women wanted to be at the hottest clubs with the best music, most eligible men, and feel safe.
Yes, I knew Aleesa had a roster of sex workers, but that wing of her business was entirely separate from what she did for me. Her work for KAHRI was no more than that of a party promoter, specializing in the female demographic. She’d been paid handsomely for it; she was on the damn payroll. This was why I had to be firm in my reaction, notwithstanding her urban nature.
“Ayo, check this. I don’t know who the fuck you think you talking to, my nigga!” Aleesa spat, clapping her hands together. “I don’t think you remember I’m the don-dada in these streets!” Behind her, Ro, her cousin, stepped closer to us. His sudden movement forced me to quickly size him up. “These streets here mine. I ain’t got to explain shit to you, my nigga!”
Again, I scoffed, standing to my feet, “That’s where you got this shit twisted. These streets belong to me. This casino damn sure do, and you’re done.” I looked her dead in the face. “And I ain’t fuckin’ you, which means I ain’t going back and forth with you about shit.”
“Yo, who the fuck—” She attempted to grab me at the chest by my shirt. I caught her arm in the air and used it as I swung her around, bringing her fist to her back.
“Aleesa!” Munchie yelped.
The eyes behind my head saw Ro approach. My ears measured his speed and distance. When I felt him upon me, I released her with a shove and pivoted to toss a rear kick to the back of Ro’s knee then repositioned to fire off another to his stomach. Ro recoiled after a harsh grunt and swung a leftie I was not expecting and almost caught. I was able to weave out of its projected zone and follow up with a quick jab to his nose.
No sooner than blood gushed from his nostrils, I felt a sharp blow to my lower back. Perceptively, I knew it was Aleesa. She’d struck me with something rigid. But I was helpless. I only fought women with guns and knives, and that was solely to remove weapons. By this time, I felt the second strike in the same place. Thinking fast, I shifted Ro around, placing him in a bear hug to swing his ass in the air, legs high. I swung his feet in the direction of Aleesa, who was charging my way, catching her in the face with his sneakers. The impact was hard enough to send her flying back into a wall. Ro began wiggling in my hold, jerking his body. I swung him again, bringing him to his knees as I managed my arms around his neck, choking him out.
Out of nowhere, the room started filling with new energy. I recognized the faces of my security. Two of my guys approached me. Munchie was in the doorway pointing and giving a rundown on what had taken place.
Ayanna, one of my female security staffers, was on Aleesa, slapping her in the face. “Wake up! Wake the fuck up!” Ayanna shouted, feeling for her pulse. “Bitch, you alive. Get the hell up!”
“We got it from here, Cap,” Jerrell, an Atlantic City police officer murmured, requesting me to release Ro.
Nick, my other team member, had already begun bringing Ro’s arms behind his back. “Get the fuck up!”
“We need a report?” Jerrell asked, pulling Ro up to his feet.
I straightened the sleeves of my dress shirt when I noticed the files I’d walked in here with on the floor. Pain struck the moment I bent down to retrieve them. The shit was sharp as a motherfucker, causing me to recoil. It was too late. The pain had blossomed in my back, hurting like hell.
“You okay?” Munchie sounded alarmed.
I turned to look at Aleesa who was coming to. There was a collapsible metal baton next to her thigh.
Fucking bitch …
“Did she hit you with that?” Ayanna asked angrily. “Did you fuckin’ hit him with that?” her question was posed to Aleesa this time. “You’re one crazy bitch. I ought’a mop your dumb ass right now! We from the same hood. You know my work just like I know yours. You better be lucky he ain’t filing charges!”
Nick wanted to know, “You sure about that, Patterson?”
“Nah. No, charges.” I wanted to make it clear. My face tightened from the pain. At the same time, my phone rang. “Get them the fuck out of here. She’s fired. Put her and her whole crew’s asses on the no-fly list.” I walked over to the door where I saw security running toward the room in scores. Then I called over my shoulder to Munchie, “Call the jet. I gotta get my ass home.” I answered the call, “What up, Mehki.”
As I neared the kitchen, I heard sounds coming from inside. I headed straight to the island to dump the big ass bag of food. My mother peeped it the moment I’d entered.
“I didn’t expect you to still be here.” I tried standing straight to not give away my condition, something I was used to.
“You don’t look good,” my mother observed, peering into a small compact mirror while applying lipstick. “My yoga class ran over. I told the girls I’m running behind.”
I readjusted my suit jacket over my arm. “Well, it’s getting late, young lady. And which group is it you’re meeting up with tonight?”
“I told you. My book club. And I’m so excited.” She smiled hard as hell and had the nerve to do a shimmy.
My brows met. “For which book?”
Moms was a nerd. She’d been in book clubs since I could remember. She enjoyed psychological thrillers, biographies of noted figures, and even dabbled in a little sci-fi.
What’s there to get excited about with those genres?
Her eyes fell as she smirked sheepishly. “ Blue Obstacles .” Then she dropped the mirror and lipstick into her purse.
“By who?”
She thought for a second, tapping her chin. “ Zakiya something…”
“What kind of book is it?” Her eyes narrowed as she looked my way. I chuckled. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Young adult.”
“That’s a genre?”
She grabbed her purse and moved toward the island for the wicker basket filled with wine, fancy ass crackers, and what looked to be a prepared dish in Tupperware. It was what they did as a group.
“A sub-genre if you must know,” her tone was defensive.
“A sub-genre of what?”
“Romance, boy!”
“Romance?” I spit too hard, causing a sharp, heated pain to shoot up my back.
The doctor began toward the opening of the kitchen when she turned to sassily say, “Judge your momma.”
“You are my momma!”
“Not tonight!” she sang. “Oh, and don’t forget Mehki won’t be in tonight?—”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. He’s over at Jonathan’s doing a stream-athon or some weird shit kids do.” The latter half of my words were muffled as the pain lifted again.
“Oh,” she returned to the opening of the kitchen. “Hayden’s here.”
Over my shoulder, I shared, “I know that, too, lady.”
“What’s that tone for, old grump?”
“Contrary to what you believe, I often read the pulse of my house. I know where everyone is.”
Immediately, concern etched her face. “You’re not tracking her, are you?”
Dr. Patterson knew me. She understood my work without knowing all the gory details, knowing how wildly popular and far-reaching ADJ Enterprise was from its resort leg alone. My mother learned how the resort and casino industry attracted almost as many nefarious characters as good citizens. I was responsible for both. Dealing with the evil demographic exposed me to eager enemies. And on occasion, those new adversaries had the desire and resources to attempt revenge. Because of this, I had to protect each member of my household—individually. Doing this allowed me to know where they were at all times. Even now, my mother would be driven to the book club meeting by an armed security detail.
“Is she carrying my child?” I challenged by answering her question that way.
All the muscles in her face fell. “Are you ready for me to share the paternity results with you?”
Her offer was sincere. I hadn’t asked my mother about the results since she’d received them two weeks ago, the day before the blowup with Hayden and Rob.
I shook my head, trying to blow off the “serious moment” she’d just thrust us into. “Nah, Mom. That’s not what I’m asking for. I’m just saying, I’m getting better. I know where Ki is. I knew you had your book club meeting. I know where Hayden is. I’m home early with dinner, as you can see.”
With pinched brows, she gave a subtle nod. The doc was trying to read me. Hopefully, it was an inaccurate one. I didn’t have the stamina to go toe-to-toe with her tonight. “Okay, baby,” she murmured with humility. “She’s working. I set her up in your formal office.” Then she left.
It took a few seconds of contemplation before I decided on my next move. I needed a pain reliever—a real one—but needed to eat first. I hoped Hayden had an appetite, too. So, I dumped my suit jacket on the back of a chair then washed my hands. I grabbed a few plates and utensils and headed to my office.
She was there at the small conference table with her laptop. There were folders and papers strewn around. Hayden looked cute with an undersized tank exposing her belly and oversized gray sweat shorts reaching her knees. I stood there too long for her not to have recognized my presence.
“Do we need to go on another shopping spree for maternity clothes?” I asked.
Hayden glanced up, at first appearing startled then confused. When she noticed the dishes and large shopping bag filled with food, Hayden smiled. “Did you hear my stomach growling?”
“Does it stop?”
She pretended to think. “Not really. I’m really starving, though.”
“Then why haven’t you eaten?” I entered the room.
Hayden sighed, “Because I kept telling myself I’d go in there and find something after I’m done with the next question. Then I’m dying to get to the next one then the next one.” When my forehead wrinkled in response, she shrugged. “Hey, as long as I don’t have to pee, I’ll survive. Speaking of which: you don’t look so…good? Everything okay?”
I flashed a phony smile. “I’m surviving, too.” I placed the plates and utensils on the table. Then the bag of food. “But what about the baby?”
She palmed her midsection. “It’s been asleep, allowing me to work.”
“Then wake the baby with this food.” I began pulling the dishes from the bag.
“Whatcha got?” She tapped a few keys on her laptop then closed it. “Is that Chinese food?”
“Asian,” I corrected. “I don’t know what you like, so I got a few Chinese dishes, Japanese, and Singaporean. I think there’s some Pho in here, too.”
“Yummy!” She smacked her hands together. “I’m going to wash my hands. Should I bring back drinks?”
“That’s what’s up.”