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Day Lux was a cute little place with a chill vibe.
After Makari shared the location, I pulled up their account on Skroll to check out the aesthetics to decide what I was wearing.
I wanted to be casual but still cute. If there was a chance that anyone recognized me, I had to be photo ready.
Although I wasn’t obsessed with public opinion, it was hard not to care about being tagged and dragged by strangers on social media.
Today the fit was simple but classy. A sleeveless, cream, Black girl tee with a beautiful representation of a brown-skinned beauty on front, flexing with her nails on display.
Khaki cargo pants with drawstrings at the pockets and ankles provided a genie vibe.
My feet were covered in caramel suede platform heels.
A little height was always a confidence booster.
With oversized abstract earrings dangling from my ears, gold bangles on my wrist, and a thick link chain resting at the base on my neck, I paired my fit with a small suede Kameron Taylor clutch and oversized shades which sat on my head.
I usually used my wand to do loose waves on my hair, but today I went for a center part and straight, showing my blunt cut, which I tucked behind my ears with my shades.
I was torn about this whole meet the players partners setup, but Makari was convinced I would love the girls.
Luckily, when I pulled up, she was in front of me in the valet line, so we were able to walk in together.
We were seated in our section on the extended balcony.
It was a halfway decent day for April, the sunshine warmed our faces and the temperature wasn’t too bad.
April in Chicago could mean a snowstorm at random, so I was not mad at being here instead of back home.
The balcony where we were seated was a social media wet dream because of the aesthetics.
The entire area was encased by a glass and metal railing that gave the illusion that we were floating in the sky.
Two grass walls with DayLux logos, created with jewels and flowers, standing outdoor heaters, separated turf grass areas with white cushioned sofas, chairs, and glass tables.
A floating bar and a spiral staircase led to the rooftop, which was an extension of the balcony.
I glanced around the restaurant, people watching, mentally mapping out a day to bring Rylee for a girls’ day.
She would love this. I was enjoying the atmosphere with the exception of my current company.
Well… not all of them, because Shiya and Zina were chill.
Zina was the longtime girlfriend of one of the Sharks’ defensive players, Moses Anderson, and Shiya was married to Dedric Williams, who was also part of the defense.
Shiya and Dedric had a daughter, Zaya, who was only a month younger than Omiri and Makari’s daughter Avianna, so the four of them were pretty close.
Seeing the ladies, I was glad I’d decided to be photo ready because they did not come to play.
Makari was in ankle-length, distressed, wide leg jeans with black heeled combat boots and an off-the-shoulder fitted black top that hugged her body.
Zina and Shiya were dressed similarly in fitted dresses that hugged their frames.
Shiya’s was blue and long sleeved, exposing her thick, curvy physique while Zina’s was deep brown, cap sleeved with a mock turtleneck, and splits that reached mid-thigh on both sides. Their jewelry was simple, but I could tell it was expensive based on the size and clarity of the diamonds.
The bags sitting next to them were from the Kameron Taylor black label limited launch.
I wanted both when they dropped, but wasn’t crazy enough to spend six figures on a purse, nor did I have it to spend.
While Makari’s hair was styled similarly to mine, Zina and Shiya both rocked waist-length boho braids.
Shiya also lived in Chandler Heights, and after finding out I was a neighbor, she invited me to her house and added me to the group chat that she, Zina, and Makari had, which helped make this lunch more bearable.
The third guest to join us was some woman named Layla who was being shady as hell and trying way too hard to seem relevant.
She had been having lunch alone and ended up at our table, including herself while trying to exclude me. Neither Zina nor Makari were overly enthused by Layla’s presence, but she didn’t seem to care and plopped her ass right on down, ordering drinks as soon as the server approached our section.
Even if they were tolerating her, I was struggling to keep my face from exposing my true feelings on Layla.
Being new to this group I was trying to remain neutral, but this woman had an issue with me and was letting it be known.
If she wasn’t ignoring me altogether, I received snide glares or fake smiles.
When the server came to request a card to start a tab for drinks and I decided to cover them by handing over Ryland’s black card, she had plenty to say.
She said some slick shit about how I must have plans to hang around since I was from Chicago but had an account with Crescent Bank.
First of all, why the fuck are you clocking details about my life, hoe?
When I told her it was Ryland’s and Zina pointed out that he was already handing over access, Layla shut her ass up with the quickness.
But the salty ass look she had been sporting since she joined us remained intact.
By this point, I’d tuned her out, which was the safest thing for her.
Otherwise I was going to address her shady ass behavior.
One thing I didn’t do was play about myself.
A hand waved, catching my attention and I turned my eyes toward Layla.
“Who did your lace front? That color is everything and it looks so real.” She had been saying little slick stuff since she joined us and found out who I was.
I brushed it off. I assumed she viewed me as the new girl, invading on territory she assumed was hers.
If this was what the other wives and girlfriends were like, I would be skipping this side of Ryland’s life.
I didn’t need to be a Shark’s WAG, nor did I aspire to be, but checking this hoe was likely going to happen before the end of our lunch if she didn’t find something to focus on other than me.
“It’s mine,” I signed, keeping it simple before I glanced at Makari who took on the task of interpreting the best she could during lunch. Honestly, I was impressed that she was able to communicate as well as she had. What she couldn’t figure out, I texted to her for clarity.
Each time we were together, Ryland and Omiri were always making jokes about Makari being an overachiever, and I had to agree, but I appreciated the effort.
In the few months I had been here, Makari had learned most of the basic signs and was paying an online instructor for weekly lessons to pair with what she was learning from the Deaf community who posted on VidShare and from Avi’s nanny, Janice.
“It’s hers, H-O-E,” she said and signed. I grinned when she turned to me and rolled her eyes at the audacity before she added, “Sorry you’re going to have to stick to those B-U-S-T-E-D wigs you’ve been R-O-C-K-I-N-G, B-O-O.”
She made sure to turn slightly toward me so I could read her lips for the second part. When Makari didn’t know the sign for specific things, she finger spelled the words in an effort to do her best to communicate in my language.
Layla frowned, lifting a hand and raking it through the auburn tresses poorly laid on her head. “My wigs aren’t busted.”
Everyone’s heads swung in her direction and she rolled her shoulders back, scowling deeper. “I paid a lot of money for this.”
“On ClokIt Shop,” Shiya said, then smiled smugly.
Zina was next to comment. “Which is why your installs look so damn ratchet.”
“And let’s be real, two hundred dollars is not a lot of money, friend,” Shiya stated.
“It was for that,” Zina said, then sipped her mimosa shadily.
“My installs don’t look ratchet.” Layla defended and I almost laughed because she looked mad as hell but also embarrassed.
“It’s not that bad.” I signed, angling my head to the side and checking out her wig like I was trying to see it from a better angle. All eyes turned to Makari to see what I said. When she interpreted, they either grinned or took a drink to stop from laughing.
“Girl, don’t be nice. That shit is bad. It’s terrible,” Makari said, smirking while also signing the words.
“You’re officially one of us. You can be honest. Those wigs are cheap and ugly as hell. Scalp is orange, hair all shiny and plastic looking with that synthetic blend.” Shiya tipped her mimosa in Layla’s direction. “And not even a good blend.”
Layla’s mouth dropped open and Zina choked on her drink.
“And while we’re being honest, why is your hairline all the way back there? Forehead just screaming for coverage. You don’t have any edges up under there? You know you’re supposed to place it where your natural hairline is, right?” Makari tilted her head to the side like I had just done.
“Did I miss something? Why is everybody coming for me?” Layla’s narrowed gaze moved around the women.
“Bitch, you’re trying to be shady to my girl. How about we not play dumb and keep it one hundred?”
“Oh thank God, somebody finally said it,” Shiya stated with a cocky smile.