Chapter 7
“By Friday, the correct flooring will be installed. Yes, of course. They’re on it. No need to worry,” Kwinn reassured her client. “I’ll have an update for you before the weekend. Okay. Talk soon.”
Pressing her thumb into the steering wheel, Kwinn disconnected what seemed like her hundredth call of the day.
It was only Wednesday, and the week had whooped her ass already.
One of her clients was currently out of the country while their home got remodeled, and they had decided to change the flooring in all four bathrooms. Thankfully, the contractors were efficient, and she had a great rapport with them.
Much like her client, Kwinn wanted to be out of the country somewhere with her feet up.
Instead, she pulled into her garage as a yawn escaped her.
It was best to get them all out now because she and Saiko had plans in a few hours.
Grabbing her cherry Cuyana tote from the passenger seat, Kwinn climbed out and entered her house.
“Whew. Thank you, Lord.” She exhaled. “What a blessing it is to make it back here.”
Sitting her things down, she headed upstairs to her bedroom.
She knew it was nothing but the devil trying to ruin her good mood when Jabari’s name appeared on her screen.
For the last couple of days, Kwinn had been considering blocking him.
He hadn’t done anything wrong since moving, except try to pressure her into changing her mind, but that was enough for him to never hear from her again.
Being collateral damage in a man’s war with himself is so traumatizing. Kwinn honestly couldn’t wrap her mind around how they’d gotten to this space, and she was over it all. Jabari just didn’t give up, and it was truthfully a turn-off.
“Yes,” Kwinn huffed into the phone.
“Damn. You had a bad day?” Jabari questioned, hearing every bit of disdain she had for him in her tone.
Rolling her eyes, Kwinn placed the phone on speaker and removed her bra. “I’m trying not to. How can I help you?”
Jabari chuckled lowly, sensing where their conversation was going… or where it wasn’t. “You know, I’m starting to think you don’t love a nigga no more. Why you being all hostile? I’m just calling to check on you. Isn’t that what boyfriends do?”
“Who has a boyfriend?”
All traces of humor vanished from his face, though she couldn’t see him. “Stop playing with me,” he fumed.
Not giving a fuck, Kwinn laughed. “No one is playing. I told you that day in the car that we were done. I honestly don’t understand what it is that you don’t understand about that.”
“You can’t make me agree to some shit I ain’t feeling,” Jabari countered.
“Yeah? The same way you somehow made me agree to not take on any clients without my knowledge. Oh okay.”
Jabari exhaled loudly, showcasing his evident frustration. “And I apologized for that. For everything. You acting like you can’t give me a second chance.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not in the business of letting grown men right their wrongs just to disappoint me again.”
Jabari sucked his teeth and went quiet. He was trying to figure out how to respond and spin the conversation in his favor.
For weeks, he’d been grasping at straws the same way Kwinn had been through their relationship.
He hated this feeling, but that was too bad because she no longer had the patience to listen to him.
“So we don’t have any chances of getting back together?”
Kwinn rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Nooo,” she groaned, becoming more irritated. “People break up, Jabari. It’s not the end of the damn world.”
He was being overly dramatic for no reason. Kwinn wasn’t against second chances. She just wasn’t interested in giving one to somebody who already had enough opportunities to get it right. It was that simple.
“You must be fucking around with another dude,” Jabari pressed.
“Is that what you’d like me to say?” Kwinn questioned teasingly. “Would me messing around with another man somehow justify your shitty actions?”
“Nah, I?—”
“Exactly,” Kwinn cut him off. “So, let’s not go there. I’m single, we’re not getting back together, and I’m definitely not moving to New York. Now, is there anything else? I’m trying to be as nice to you as possible.”
“You call this being nice? What the fu?—”
Before he could utter another useless word, Kwinn hung up.
She didn’t have time for his bullshit. At this point, it would be the same ol’ song and dance with Jabari, and only clowns attended circuses.
A fool she wouldn’t be. As a woman—a Black, powerful, sensitive, loving, caring, resourceful, beautiful, and understanding woman—Kwinn respected herself enough to know that she deserved the very fucking best and nothing less.
Stepping into one of her walk-in closets, the size of another bedroom, Kwinn placed her shoes where they belonged before removing her jewelry.
She’d hand-drawn and designed the space to meet every one of her needs.
The space included a section for her purses, a fragrance section, a shoe wall with drawers, and a vanity, all so functional and intentional.
Seeing that she had enough time to relax before preparing for the evening, Kwinn decided to shower first, then take a bath.
She used to indulge the other way around but came to realize that soaking in the tub afterward made more sense.
It was merely a relaxation method… she treated it as a hot tub, if you will.
The bath ran while she finished in the shower.
She did her skincare when she was out, as a candle from one of her favorite home-based companies, Herbs N’ Harlem, filled the space.
Kwinn and the owner had crossed paths at a networking event years earlier, and she’d been supporting her ever since.
Kwinn made sure to include at least one of the company’s products in the gift bags she gave to her clients.
Inhaling the sweet tropical scent of peach nectar, tangerine, and coconut from Girls Day, she submerged herself in the warmth.
Without any music or distractions, Kwinn rested her head against the cushion and closed her eyes.
Seemingly more tired than usual, her body jerked awake at the sound of her Vue app going off.
She wasn’t expecting anyone or any deliveries, so the notification immediately got her attention.
Reaching for the Vue Portable on the table beside the tub, she tapped the screen to pull up the live feed from her front door.
A delivery man approached with a box. He set it down, snapped a quick picture for proof of delivery, then turned and headed back down the walkway.
Kwinn watched until he disappeared from view, wondering what the package was.
Not in a rush to see what it was, she continued unwinding.
Twenty minutes later, with an oiled-down body wrapped in a robe, Kwinn headed downstairs.
She opened the front door, grabbed the box, and brought it to her kitchen.
With her handy-dandy box cutter, she sliced the tape, revealing a chocolate-brown box with yellow font.
“No.” She gasped, realizing what she was staring at. “How did he even get this delivered? What the hell?”
As she mumbled to herself, Kwinn removed the box, smiling the entire time.
Melo was undoubtedly trying to impress her, and Kwinn was all for it.
Outside of his abso-fucking-lutely soul elevating pussy eating skills, Melo was a listener and doer.
In fact, he’d been doing his biggest one with no indication of letting up.
They’d been on the phone last week, and Kwinn randomly told him about a temperature-controlled cake stand she saw.
Not only was it the world’s first of its kind, but it was also Black-owned.
Though designed for cakes, the cordless, timeless, sleek design also kept cookies, pastries, bread, and other delectable foods warm.
In her spare time, Kwinn loved to bake. She’d been perfecting her skills over the years and always loved her sweet treats a little warm.
The hassle of warming them up rather than having them already at the temperature she wanted was an annoyance, but not anymore.
Plus, although an appliance, it doubled as perfect home decor for her kitchen.
The wooden base and glass dome gave it such an elevated look.
“Innovation at its finest.” Kwinn grinned, admiring her new gift.
Grabbing her phone, she dialed Melo’s number to thank him. It rang twice before going to voicemail. Seconds later, a text message came through.
In a meeting, luv. I’ll call you in a min.
She reacted to his message with a heart. Snapping a picture of her new gift, Kwinn sent it to him with a text attached.
I love it! Thank you so much! With your sneaky self. Who gave you my address?
Melo didn’t know anyone close enough to her who would willingly share where she rested her head, but the man was resourceful. As he should be. With one person in mind, Kwinn dialed her assistant’s number.
“Hey,” Brooklynn answered.
“Hi, Brooke. You busy?”
“Nope. What’s going on?”
“By chance, did a man by the name of Malone reach out to you for anything?”
Brooklynn giggled. “Um, yes. Did it arrive?”
“It diiiid,” Kwinn whined. “That was so sweet of him. I was wondering how he got my address, and I’m like, only Brooklynn could have facilitated this.”
“Yes, I did. He reached out to me personally, sent me the money, and I ordered it. Now, that’s what I call intentionality. Does he have a brother?”
They snickered, and Kwinn nodded.
“He does, actually. More than a few for you to choose from.”
“Well, sign me up, sista.” Brooklynn laughed. “Seriously though, K, I love this for you. Whatever it is… or isn’t. It’s nice to see a man being so thoughtful without expecting anything in return.”
Kwinn couldn’t help but agree. Melo was being intentional without intruding on her space. He remembered what she wanted, bought it, and arranged everything himself. She’d never been overly impressed by a man, and she wasn’t raised to be, but she had to give applause where it was due.