Chapter 8
“IT’S A PRIVILEGE TO KNOW WHERE I BE AT.”
S eeing the proud expression on his Aunt Joyce’s face as she stepped out of her car in front of Echelon Express’ office building was priceless to Najee.
He’d missed seeing her smile so much while he was locked up, and knowing that he had another chance to do right was all he needed.
Joyce never judged him; she just wanted him to stay on the straight and narrow, no matter what came his way.
Losing his mama at fourteen could’ve made Najee’s life go in a completely different direction had it not been for Joyce.
There was no road map on how to handle grief.
It didn’t matter how many counselors he spoke to, prayers he said, and tears he shed, Najee had to figure it out.
With no father in the picture, he had no choice but to.
He became the man of the house and a father to Nyesha before he could create his own family.
Najee never once complained, though. That would’ve gotten him nowhere.
Was it disheartening having to hustle the way he did instead of going to college like his friends?
Absolutely. Did he want to splurge on expensive gifts, take trips, and be treated to the finest of things at twenty-one?
Most definitely, but life called. He had a sister to care for and an aunt to support.
If he fucked off, there was no one to fill his size thirteen shoes.
According to the streets and the people he’d already lost to them, Najee wasn’t supposed to make it to see twenty-five. But here he was. A proud Black business owner and a wealthy one at that. He’d beaten the odds.
Removing the sunglasses from her face, Joyce beamed up at him. She was a small woman, standing at five feet four, and Najee had been taller than her since he was a teenager. Her smile stretched a mile wide as he met her halfway and hugged her.
“Ma, you’re late,” Najee teased, smirking. He planted a kiss on her forehead.
“I’m here. I don’t know why they keep doing construction all around the city. I’m sick of it,” she fussed.
All he could do was chuckle and agree. He and his drivers were fed up with all of the detours, but there was nothing they could do about it. It was nice to see their hard-earned tax dollars getting put to good use.
“You look real sharp,” Joyce complimented as they approached the entrance.
“You gon’ always hype me up, huh?”
She smiled. “But of course, my big ol’ baby.”
Najee held the door open and motioned for to step inside first. “Ladies first.” He grinned.
She gave him a playful smirk. “Always the gentleman.”
She hadn’t raised him to be anything less.
As soon as they walked into the building, Aunt Joyce paused, soaking in the clean, professional vibe of the front entrance.
The floors had a polished concrete finish, with dark leather chairs against the walls, and black and gold accents throughout the space.
The Echelon Express logo was mounted on the wall in backlit bold gold chrome letters.
It offered subtle luxury while still maintaining a welcoming vibe.
The fresh scent of lemon lingered in the air from the cleaning service he had on payroll.
Synovi Black and his team would forever get his money and referrals.
“Look at this building! Chile, it doesn’t even look like the same one from when you first showed me!” Joyce exclaimed, adjusting her purse on her shoulder.
When he first bought the building, Najee had it gutted. He wanted a clean landscape to work on and bring his vision to life.
“I know, right? Wait until you see the rest,” Najee replied with an eagerness in his tone.
He guided her through the building, leading her past the front desk where he introduced the receptionist, then down the hall to the dispatch and operations room first. As they entered, Joyce’s eyes grew wide.
“This looks like something out of The Matrix,” she said, making Najee laugh.
“Yeah. It does kinda look like that.”
There were multiple flat screens mounted on almost every wall, showing real-time GPS locations of his drivers with moving pins, live traffic conditions, weather alerts, and active route optimizations.
A large dry-erase board on one wall had the week’s schedule broken down and color-coded with neat penmanship, along with client notes and reminders.
Desks lined the back wall, where dispatchers were either on the phones or checking tablets, coordinating everything in real-time. Joyce was in awe and almost brought to tears.
“Baby, I’m so proud of you. You haven’t even shown me half of the space and I’m just overjoyed,” she said.
Najee licked his lips and cleared his throat. If anyone could pull some emotions out of him, it was her.
“Thank you, Ma. Stealing your car all those times and going joyriding paid off, huh?” He smirked, and she swatted his arm.
“You aren’t too big for me to get my belt,” she warned. “Now, what all goes down in here?”
“This is where the magic happens,” Najee said proudly. “We track every car that leaves this lot. Real-time updates, emergency reroutes, ETA adjustments, the whole nine.”
“You’re really running an empire, huh?”
Najee chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Trying to. Come on. Let me show you the client lounge.”
They exited the dispatch room and walked a short distance before entering the client lounge.
The space felt more like a hotel lobby than a car service office.
Plush leather chairs were arranged in sections, sleek coffee tables displayed magazines and bowls of mints, and a self-serve coffee and tea bar was situated in the corner.
A flat-screen TV played a soft jazz playlist, and potted plants filled the space, adding a pop of greenery.
“This is where the clients chill if they’re early or gotta wait,” Najee explained.
“It’s fancy in here and smells good,” Joyce praised.
“Thank you. I wanted folks to feel like they’re in first class before they even get in a ride.”
“Mhm. That’s nothing but Black excellence, baby. I love it. What’s next?”
Najee chuckled. “The driver’s lounge. You good? You want a water or anything?”
“Hand me one of those Lipton teas.”
Najee retrieved one from the mini fridge, and they headed to their next spot.
They strolled toward the back, where the staff space opened up into a modern, relaxed environment.
The snack station had bottled water, chips, fruit, and even protein bars.
Nearby, charging stations were set up for phones and tablets, with extra cords just in case someone forgot theirs.
Personal lockers lined the wall, each labeled with a unique number, and a few couches and massage chairs filled the corner.
“They got it good in here,” Joyce said with a laugh.
“Always. I gotta take care of my people. They’re out in the streets representing me. It’s only right that I make sure they’re well-rested and taken care of.”
Aunt Joyce took a seat on one of the chairs and looked around with a soft smile. “You really thought this through.”
“Every detail,” Najee said.
“Your mama would be so proud of you. I can see her smiling now.”
All he could do was nod. Every day was a reminder of who he was doing this for. As long as he remembered his why, Najee would forever be good.
“Yeah,” he smiled softly. “I can, too. Hear her talking about some ‘Where did you get all of these cars from, Najee? You can’t drive without me in the car with out,’” he mocked, imitating her voice.
Joyce giggled. “That squeaky voice of hers used to drive me up the wall, but I sure do miss it.”
“Just call Ny. She sounds just like her some days.”
That’s what he would do. Nyesha was beautiful and had a calming, free spirit just like Candice had.
Whenever Najee was in his feelings, he’d call and just listen to her ramble about her day or pop up on her at her crib.
She enjoyed his company just as much as he did.
Nyesha was only seven when Candice was killed, but their memories still lingered in her mind.
She missed her every day and was so glad Aunt Joyce had stepped in to take care of them.
Once she felt rested enough for the rest of the tour, they took an elevator down to the garage and parking access area. As the doors slid open, Aunt Joyce stepped into the wide, open space, and her jaw dropped slightly.
It was more than just a parking lot. Every vehicle was parked in line, clean and equipped with a tracking system.
A security gate with a keypad and facial recognition station sat by the sealed-off entrance, with visible cameras watching every angle.
One corner of the garage had wall-mounted charging stations for electric cars.
Another corner housed a detailing station, complete with water hoses, microfiber cloths, vacuums, and bottles of every cleaning product you could think of.
Beside that was a fully stocked supply closet.
Behind its door were shelves holding everything from windshield wiper fluid to air fresheners, as well as small travel-sized items.
“I don’t know how you did it, but this right here is amazing. You took your pain and something people would’ve laughed at and made it a legacy. You should be proud.”
“I am. You don’t even know. I didn’t do it alone, though. Without you and Uncle Ron, and a few other people, it would’ve never been like this.”
Joyce waved him off. “Oh, please. Yes, it would’ve.
I don’t know anyone with more hustle and determination than you.
You’re disciplined too. Even with that hussy calling herself trying to play you, you’re still focused and making moves, baby.
You didn’t need us, but I’m glad to be along for the ride. ”
Stepping her way, Najee wrapped her up in another hug. “Thank you, Ma. We gon’ ride ‘til the wheels fall off.”
“I heard that. Now, where’s that lunch you promised me? I don’ walked up an appetite,” she said, making him laugh.
“I got you.”