Chapter 7
A Week Later
I w o k e u p feeling lighter than I had in weeks.
The sun was creeping through the curtains, laying warm streaks of light across the bedroom walls.
For once, Kassim was not crying or fussy over the baby monitor.
Yawning, I heard Knuck talking loudly on the phone downstairs, but at least the TV wasn’t blasting SportsCenter.
I stretched, rolling onto my back as a smile crept across my face.
Today was my first real meeting with a wedding planner, not just late-night Pinterest scrolling or making collages.
After days of reaching out to planners, I found Shan Davis, thee luxury wedding planner. Today, we were meeting for brunch.
I swung my legs off the bed and headed toward the nursery to see if Kassim was still asleep. My heart twinged at the sight of him. His little cheeks looked so full when he slept. One hand was curled near his face like he was boxing somebody in his dreams.
I leaned down and kissed his forehead softly. “Good morning, handsome,” I whispered. He stretched, scrunching his little face before letting out a soft grunt. That was enough to make me laugh. “Mommy’s got a big day today. Let’s hope everything goes as planned.”
Walking downstairs, the smell of coffee hit me immediately. Knuck was leaning against the counter in a gray sweatsuit and sneakers. A bottle of water was in one hand, and his phone in the other. The way his brows were bunched up told me something was wrong.
“Nah, I told y’all niggas I got too much goin’ on today. Handle that shit,” he barked into the phone before ending the call. “Mornin’, baby.” He kissed my lips and pushed off the counter.
“Today’s the day,” I said. “I’m so excited.”
He smirked, smacking my ass. “I know you are.” His phone vibrated on the counter as I walked to the fridge. He answered, jaw tight. “What?”
I sipped water, listened to his call, and knew my day would go as planned. Knuck’s energy shifted into gangsta mode. I mouthed, “What happened?”
He held up a finger and spoke into the phone, “Nah, it’s cool. I’m pullin’ up.”
Shaking my head, I crossed my arms. “Keon.”
Ending the call, he ran a hand over his beard. “I gotta handle somethin’ real quick.”
I stared at him. “We’re supposed to leave in an hour.”
“I know.” He walked over to where I stood by the fridge and kissed my forehead. “I gotta take care of some shit.”
I side-eyed him. “What kinda shit?”
“The kind that makes sure I can pay for that expensive-ass weddin’ you want and everything else.”
I squinted. “Street business or car business?”
“Business. I’ll meet up wit’ you soon as I’m done.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Knuck.”
“Nyomi.” He hit me with that calm tone and that look that said his mind was already made up.
“What could possibly be more important than this right now? You know, us meeting with our wedding planner.”
“Business can’t wait.”
I laughed in disbelief. “You don’t care about this shit at all.”
“I ain’t sayin’ all that,” he shrugged, drinking from his bottle of water. “This is for you, though. Remember? The bougie shit you want. If it were up to me, niggas would be married already.” His voice dropped slightly. “Now… I needa go handle somethin’ so it don’t become a bigger problem later.”
“Whatever.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Don’t do that. Lemme handle what I gotta handle so this fuckin’ weddin’ of your dreams is paid for.” My mouth snapped shut as I watched him grab his keys off the island. “I’ll be there when I’m done.”
“Keon…”
“Nyomi,” he huffed, stepping closer, cupping my jaw gently. “I’m not arguin’ wit’ you this mornin’.” He kissed my lips once. “I love you.” Then… his ass walked out.
I stared at the door, chest tight. “Unbelievable.” Upstairs, Kassim wailed. I scoffed, “Sick of his selfish ass…”
???
B y t e n t h i r t y , I was dressed and ready.
I wore a soft blush sweater dress with knee-high boots and gold accessories.
Nothing too extra, but still cute enough for brunch.
My makeup was light, and I’d flat-ironed my hair.
I slipped Kassim into a cream knit onesie with covered feet and topped it with a tiny quilted jacket and matching beanie.
I slung his diaper bag over my shoulder and picked up my purse to head out the door. The cool air kissed my cheeks. “Alright, son,” I murmured, clicking his carrier into the stroller base. “Let’s go plan a wedding.”
I popped the trunk of my car and tossed the diaper bag inside then climbed into the driver’s seat of my Mercedes.
The engine turned over, and Coco Jones’ voice floated out of the speakers, singing her song Thang 4 U.
I cracked the windows and backed down the driveway.
My irritation with Knuck still simmered, but I refused to let it ruin the rest of the day.
I had exactly twenty minutes before brunch started, and I planned to pull up looking composed, not annoyed.
Ten blocks from the house, my phone rang through the Bluetooth. I tapped the steering wheel button. “Morning, T. What’s good?”
“Girl, you sitting down?” My lash studio manager, Tina’s, voice held that excited tremble she got whenever business popped.
“I’m driving with the baby in the back, so technically, yes.”
“You remember that influencer package we sent out last month? The one to the twins with the two-million followers?”
“Yeah, I remember. Did they post?”
“Not only did they post, but they also booked a private suite party for next Friday, and they want the ‘Full Flutter VIP’ package for ten people. The deposit already hit the account.”
My mouth fell open. The ‘Full Flutter VIP’ package was premium money. “You lying,” I breathed.
“I would never lie about money, boss lady. Check your email when I can. They tagged us in their story, too. We’ve got fifty new booking requests this morning.”
I banged my palm lightly against the steering wheel, grinning. “Tina, you better talk to me nice, girl!” She laughed, and Kassim let out a coo from the back seat. “You’re a godsend. Send me the numbers later so I can update the budget.”
“That’s why you made me manager, babe. I got you.”
The call ended, and I caught myself smiling into the rear-view mirror. Everything was going good. I just needed Knuck more in the spirit of getting married, and I’d be Gucci. My phone rang again before I could reach the rotary.
I pressed the button. “Hey, Miss Wedding Planner! I’m ten minutes out, Shan.”
A sigh floated through the speakers. “Nyomi, I’m so sorry.”
My stomach tightened. “Please don’t say you gotta cancel.”
“Not necessarily. I have an emergency with another client right now. A bride tried to run off to Vegas overnight, and her mother is threatening to sue. I have to handle it in person.”
“Oh damn.”
“I know this is last-minute, but my business partner will meet you instead. Trust me, you’re in excellent hands.”
I inhaled slowly, adjusting. “Okay. Where should I go instead?”
“Same bistro. Be ready for already mock-ups, venue looks, and the dessert tasting ideas.”
“Dessert tasting? You just said the magic words.”
Shay laughed softly. “I knew food would keep you from cussing me out.”
“I was this close,” I teased, pinching the air. “But go handle your runaway bride. Thanks for calling.”
“Thank you for understanding. I’ll call you tonight to debrief.”
We hung up, and I merged onto the expressway, wind ruffling loose strands of hair. Kassim gurgled contentedly behind me, oblivious to schedule changes and runaway brides. I turned up the music a little, let the beat fill the car, and pressed the gas just a little harder.
Ten minutes later, I arrived at the restaurant and found a spot right out front. Heading inside with Kassim in the carrier, I walked towards the hostess.
“Welcome to Le Fritz,” she greeted me with a bubbly smile.
“Good morning. I’m meeting for brunch. It should be booked under Shan Davis.”
“You must be Nyomi?”
“Yes.”
“Your party is already seated in the back. Follow me.”
I thanked her and trailed behind her through the crowded but cute restaurant, the heels of my boots clicking lightly against the floor. That’s when my eyebrows raised because who was this fine ass man sitting at the table looking like he belonged on the cover of GQ magazine?
The hostess left us, and he stood, raising his hand. “Good morning. I’m Iman. You must be the soon-to-be Mrs. Jones.”
My breath caught as I took him in. He was tall and dark skin with a neatly trimmed beard. He wore a crisp white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, exposing his tattoos. The Cuban link bracelet on his wrists had the diamonds bouncing in the sunlight.
Okay then.
Shaking his hand, I replied, “Nice to meet you. I’m…”
“Nyomi. It’s a pleasure.” He smiled and then motioned towards the seats. “Shall we?”
“Absolutely. Thanks for taking Shan’s place for brunch. If she would’ve cancelled on me…” I said, setting Kassim’s carrier beside my chair.
Iman nodded. “Yeah, she’s currently negotiating peace between a bride and her mother.”
I laughed. “That sounds stressful.”
“It’s wedding season. Stress is part of the job.” Kassim let out a little squeak beside me. His attention dropped immediately. “And this must be the future ring bearer.”
“My son,” I said proudly. “Kassim.”
He leaned slightly toward the carrier. “What’s up, man?”
Kassim cut his eyes at him before they found mine. “Just like his daddy,” I teased. We ordered brunch plates, cranberry juice, and an orange juice for me. Then, we got down to business as we ate.
Iman chuckled before sliding a binder across the table. “So, Shan filled me in a little about you and your fiancé. Big wedding. Elegant but still personal.”
“Yes,” I said immediately. “I want something beautiful and over the top, but not too extra. Just extra enough.”
“Understood.” He flipped open the binder. “Let’s start with venues.”
For the next half an hour, we moved through photos and layouts. I bounced Kassim gently when he started wiggling. Reaching into the diaper bag for the small bottle warmer, I continued looking at the binder.
“This one is gorgeous,” I said, pointing to a garden venue.
Iman nodded. “That’s the Hollis Garden House. It holds up to two hundred guests. Indoor-outdoor ceremony options.”
“How far out are they booked?”
“Next month actually still has a few openings.”
I brightened. “Really? Yesssss!” Kassim started fussing. “Hold on one second,” I murmured, lifting him from the carrier. He settled immediately against my chest as I began to feed him a bottle. Iman watched the whole thing with quiet amusement.
“You’re multitasking like a pro.”
“You have to when you’re a mom.”
“I respect it. Your fiancé is a very lucky man, Nyomi.”
“Blessed, actually,” I corrected and we both laughed a little bit. Then, I shifted Kassim onto my shoulder and burped him gently. “So tell me,” I continued. “What’s something that makes a reception unforgettable?”
He leaned back slightly. “Lighting.”
“Lighting?”
“People underestimate it. Good lighting changes the entire atmosphere. Soft chandeliers, candle installations, custom uplighting in your colors.”
I nodded slowly. “I like that. I want something dramatic.”
He smiled. “I figured.” Kassim let out a loud baby grunt, and Iman laughed. “Even he agrees.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Branch was turning out all right, and it looked like I was still going to have the wedding of my dreams.