Chapter 3
SALTED CARAMEL
If there were two things that I hated most in life, the first would be salted caramel flavored shit, because why the fuck would I want salt in my fucking caramel?
On the rare occasion that I indulged in sweets, I wanted my shit sweet, not salty, and whoever came up with that needed a foot up the ass.
The second was when people played with my fucking time—like this very moment.
“She’s three minutes late,” I huffed, looking at my watch and rolling my eyes. I was supposed to be in my weekly massage appointment, yet there I sat, waiting on this hotshot lawyer that Niko tracked down to help me win my case.
My mood was already on ten since I had to deal with this lawsuit.
Chanel had done some fucked up things, but this took the cake.
I knew she didn’t need money and was purely doing this out of spite.
She wanted to make me look bad because she knew it would hurt me the most. She knew my reputation was everything to me and her evil ass came up with the perfect scheme to stab me right in the heart.
“Relax.” Niko sighed and rubbed his temples like I was the fucking problem. “She flew in today as a courtesy. It’s a nonbusiness day.”
“She’s getting paid, right?” I snarled.
“Yeah.”
“Then it’s a business day. I don’t give a fuck about none of that. I work every fucking day of the week.”
“Chase, chill the fuck out. I know you stay on your bullshit, but I need you to make a good impression,” Justin fussed. He was my regular attorney, and we had been friends since I was in college.
I cut my eyes at him. How dare he act like I was the problem in the situation when this woman had wasted five minutes and thirty-nine seconds that I could have been getting rubbed down.
I could do a lot of things, but retrieving lost time would never be one of them.
I gave him a look uglier than a nigga with a bad combover as I sat back in my seat.
“I still don’t understand why you can’t just do it.” Justin had been my go to anytime I needed legal representation. Though I had never faced anything quite this serious, I still felt like he could handle it.
“Because I specialize in finance, fool! I’m good for contracts. I’ll still be a part of your team, but we need special help for this.”
“Speaking of finances, just how much is this chick charging for this meeting? Whatever it is, we need to dock this time from her pay.” I grumbled, looking at him with a suspicious brow raise.
“Whatever it is, you can afford it,” Justin said, rolling his eyes. “Cheap ass nigga!”
“I ain’t cheap, nigga! I’m responsible,” I argued.
I knew too many niggas who made it out the hood, only to end up worse than they started because of poor decision making.
Could never be me. The most expensive things I owned were my home and my car—along with some real estate properties and other financial investments—but splurging on unnecessary shit was something I didn’t do.
“So what? Is this like an interview? Because if so, she failed with flying colors. Can we at least order our damn food?” I was not impressed, and my attitude was getting worse by the minute.
I had a strict schedule, and if I didn’t get some sort of nourishment in me, it was about to be a bad day for everyone involved.
“Nigga, shut up!” he shushed me. “Here they come right now!”
“Gotdamn.” I was thankful that my lips were able to whisper the thoughts that my brain shouldn’t have allowed me to say out loud.
I didn’t know which was wider, my eyes or my mouth as physical perfection strutted right in my direction.
The beauty of her brown skin stopped my breath, and I lost myself in the sway of her hips as they approached.
“Hi, I’m Amaya Lewis,” she said with a smile as she shook everyone’s hand at the table and introduced her assistant, Jocelyn. When she got to me, I just looked up at her with an annoyed expression on my face as she flipped her long, thick ass hair over her shoulder.
She was fucking beautiful.
Long lashes fluttering over gorgeous brown eyes were the first thing I noticed, but definitely not the last. Her face belonged on a fucking movie screen, and her plump ass lips belonged on me.
The body… I tried not to stare, but even the professional dress pants and silk blouse she wore were enough to have my frown deepening as I moved in my seat to adjust myself.
Even from the front, I could tell she was thicker than a double peanut butter sandwich on Texas Toast.
I would never tell her that, though.
“You’re late,” I spat, making sure she could tell exactly how annoyed I was with the whole situation. Being pretty wasn’t enough to excuse incompetence. Gorgeous women came a dime a dozen, especially in my lifestyle.
“I’m not,” she shot back without missing a beat. Her eyes narrowed, and my eyes shot to her bottom lip as she swiped her tongue over it. I only lingered on them for a moment before continuing.
“The meeting was supposed to start at 1pm. It’s 1:13.”
“While I’m really glad that you can tell time, the meeting was supposed to start at 1:30, and yes, it’s 1:13. I’m actually early.”
“You’re wrong,” I argued.
“I’m not,” she said again with the same polite smile on her face.
Her pretty slanted eyes sparkled with defiance and off rip, it was obvious that she was the type of woman who loved to argue and loved even more to be right.
I could tell this was her customer service face and she looked like she was about to crack, so I pushed her even further.
“This is a fucking joke,” I scoffed. “You claim to be the best, but I guess they don’t teach the basics like telling time in law school, Ms. Lewis.
I have a lot of important things that I could be doing and waiting for someone who is unprepared and inconsiderate of my time while trying to earn a spot on my payroll isn’t one of them. ”
She held her hand out without saying a word as her assistant handed her a tablet.
She flipped it over to me and showed me an email from my assistant that had a confirmation for a lunch appointment…
for 1:30 pm. I had to pick my damn face off the ground as she stood there with a shit eating grin on hers.
“I’m a lot of things Mr. Andrews, but never unprepared or inconsiderate.
I know when my appointments are, and on the off chance that I am running late, I would at least extend a courtesy call.
I never said I was the best, to be clear.
That’s what your people said when they called and requested me.
Now if you’re done publicly berating me, I would like to get along with this meeting so I can determine if I want to take you on as a client,” she said, her voice coming out smooth like velvet as she read me for filth.
She leaned forward menacingly, and it had the opposite effect of whatever she was trying to do because all it did was bring her close enough so I could get a whiff of her scent.
She looked like chocolate, but she smelled like warm caramel, and not the salted kind either—just sweet as fuck.
Fuck.
I damn near had to smack myself to come back to the conversation, replaying her last words in my head twice before I responded.
“Hold on, who the fuck you talking to?!”
“I said your name,” she said with a smirk so devious that I couldn’t tell whether I wanted to kiss her or shake the shit out of her.
“I believe I read that you’re a college graduate as well.
I would hope that you have the basic knowledge to know that if someone addresses you specifically by name, they’re most likely speaking to you.
Now, again, would you like to continue with the meeting?
If not, I can get on my flight back home and bill you for my time. ”
The fuck?
I sat there with a sour expression on my face as Justin and Niko apologized profusely on my behalf. The two women finally joined us in sitting and we got down to business.
“Okay, I’m aware of the charges Ms. King has brought against you—”
“And it’s all bullshit. I never touched that bitch,” I mumbled under my breath. Her eyes immediately shot to mine with a look of disapproval on her face.
“Mr. Andrews, I know we haven’t formally entered into any official arrangements, but let me offer you this one bit of free advice. Call her by her name, or don’t call her at all, but don’t ever call her a bitch.”
“She is a bitch! A lyin’ ass bitch at that!
” I sulked. I was brought up by a mother, grandmother, and grandfather who would rip my lips off and feed them to me if they heard me speaking that way about any woman.
I honestly couldn’t find a more fitting word to describe Chanel.
She wasn’t just a bitch—she was a manipulative, dirty, lying ass bitch.
“You’re being sued for physical and verbal abuse, right?
I don’t think it’s too farfetched to assume that Ms. King doesn’t enjoy being called a bitch.
We’ve already established that you aren’t the most blessed in the intelligence department, but if you can’t at least see the point I’m making, I really don’t think we need to discuss anything further.
I’m not the attorney for you,” she said with pity in her voice, like she really thought I was the dumbest nigga on the planet.
“You callin’ me stupid?” My brows shot up at her.
“I never said that, but it’s clear that on the day God was handing out good sense, you must have overslept.
” Her assistant turned her head and coughed to cover up her snicker, and Justin and Niko both let out one loud chuckle each before composing themselves.
The whole time she continued to stare at me with that underhanded Stepford Wife ass grin.
After what seemed like an endless stare down between me and those infuriating eyes, she reached over and grabbed her bag.