Chapter 3 #2
“Like I said, I don’t think I’m the best fit for you, but good luck with everything.” My mouth fell open at the way she tried to dismiss me like I had just showed up to a job interview with my draws on top of my pants.
“Wait,” Justin said. I mugged the fuck out of him because he sounded too much like he was begging to me. “Please, just hear us out. He tends to be a little irritable when his schedule is thrown off and he’s hungry. Let’s just see if we can salvage this. How about we just order lunch and-”
“Man, fuck outta here.” I snapped, cutting him off.
“You think I’m about to get on my knees and beg some chick that sounds like Barry White to represent me?
I’m good.” Her voice wasn’t even that deep, it was just as perfect as the rest of her, but the urge to be a fuck nigga was fueled by my pride and embarrassment.
Her smile faltered, flickering like an old neon sign at a sleazy motel before it shut off completely. It was eerie to watch the way her demeanor completely changed—her posture and accent weren’t even the same as she opened that tempting ass mouth and cussed me smooth the fuck out.
“You know what?” She chuckled, then smoothed out her clothes.
“I think some of the steroid shots and hard hits melted the high functioning part of your brain, so I tried to be nice, but fuck it. Thank you for the consideration, but I’d rather use a porcupine to scrub my coochie before I coddled a bitch ass man-child who doesn’t even have the common sense to pretend to be a decent human being when his legacy and career are on the line.
Good luck with your impending court dates. Let’s go Jocelyn!”
Jocelyn’s brows shot up in what I could only determine was a “Here we go again” gesture. I took that to mean that this was a regular occurrence and Amaya had a temper. I wished I had a chance to push her even further, but they were gone before I could even open my mouth again.
“Really, nigga?” Justin lectured, glaring at me like I was in the wrong. “You couldn’t even try could you? Just turn the asshole off for five fuckin’ minutes?! The woman flew across the country to help you, so even if she was six minutes late. Who the fuck cares?” he asked, arms waving wildly.
“I care,” I grumbled. “I don’t play with my time.”
“She was on time. You were wrong,” Justin said with a sigh as he rubbed his temples.
“And why the fuck didn’t y’all niggas tell me that I had the time wrong?”
“Because we got the same shit that you got. I told you that cheap ass virtual assistant wasn’t no good! Get a real fucking assistant! You need to apologize to her.”
“Apologize for what?! Fuck nah! We can find someone else.” I crossed my arms, then zeroed in on the nervous glance the two of them shared. “Nah, what the fuck was that?”
“Nothing,” they both answered quickly.
“Nah, what’s going on? Start talking.”
The two of them looked at each other again, then Justin spoke.
“Chanel hired Lindsey Toliver,” he said. I didn’t know who the fuck Lindsey Toliver was, but the shaky voice he used when he said her name made it sound like she was Candyman or some shit, like he was scared to say it aloud or she would pop up in the restaurant.
“Who?” I boomed with my brows raised. I wasn’t scared of no chick named Lindsey, but I needed to know why they seemed to be.
“A high power celebrity attorney. She handled that whole thing with Powerhouse Labels. She was Angelica and the other girls’ lawyer.
” I searched through my mental storage cabinets for everything I remembered about that case.
Angelica and a few of her other label mates sued the company for sexual misconduct.
They won an undisclosed amount of money, but it was rumored to be well over 100 million dollars.
“Why the fuck would she hire her? There was no mention of sexual assault in our case!” My jaws clenched. I knew that I hadn’t done any of the shit Chanel had accused me of, but a sexual assault case would be the nail in my coffin, whether it was true or not.
“Because she wins her fucking cases, Chase. You don’t wanna go up against this woman without someone just as good as her, and the only person I would recommend is the one you just pushed out the door.”
“Ain’t no way she’s that good.” I rolled my eyes and rubbed my hand over my fresh fade. I refused to believe that my luck could possibly be that bad.
“She’s that good and then some. I’m being completely honest when I say that your best chance of winning this relies on Amaya,” he stated, looking me dead in my eyes to make sure I understood every word he said.
“What you mean our best chance? J, I didn’t do shit! You know I would never put my hands on a woman like that.”
“I do, but sometimes it doesn’t matter what you know, it matters what you can prove.
” He tapped his fingers on the table anxiously as I watched him sort through every possible scenario in his head.
Justin was the most levelheaded person that I knew, and it wasn’t often that I saw him off his game, so him being rattled scared the fuck out of me enough to straighten my ass up.
“So, what do I do?” I asked with my brows raised.
“Apologize to her… beg… whatever you need to do to get her back,” Justin urged.
“Fuck.” I ran my hand across my beard. Suddenly the graveness of the situation hit me square in my chest and I found it difficult to breathe as everything sank in.
I could live with a lot of things, but the fear of losing everything I worked so hard to achieve because I was too proud to apologize wasn’t one of them.
“I will,” I assured them both. “I’ll do whatever I need to do to get her back on the team, even if I have to beg.”