Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
Election Night…
“Shhhhhh! Everybody shut the fuck up!” Indigo yelled.
“You shut the fuck up, toothpick!” Roulette’s rebuttal caused us all to chuckle.
“Where y’all get her from and do they make more of her?”
“I hope your mother can make more of you,” Israel cleared his throat.
“We not gon’ beef ’bout no pussy on election night,” Indigo claimed.
“And no other night,” Israel confirmed. “Keep pushing if you care to keep breathing.”
“Impressive, Ish. Even if you don’t win this motherfucker, you’ve won my heart. You have introduced me to some vicious motherfuckers. I love that for me.”
Drunkenly, Indigo peered around the room.
“Yeah. Definitely love that for me.”
The room at Ishmael’s home was full of strangers, friends and family. The watch party was in full swing. The polls had closed. The votes had been tallied and within seconds, we’d know the results.
“How are you feeling?”
With folded hands, Ishmael rested his elbows on his knees. He hadn’t cracked a smile. He hadn’t taken a sip from the drink I’d made him. He hadn’t said as much as four words since greeting guests. His edginess was agonizing. I missed his voice. His whittiness. His wisdom.
“I’m good, my baby.”
I rubbed a hand up and down his back as I lowered my eyes to his.
“I love you.”
There it was. That smile.
“Thank you. Thank you for loving me.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I explained, shaking my head.
“You think I got this shit?” His smile was weak, but his confidence was still intact.
“I know you got this shit.”
“That’s my baby.”
“There’s no person who deserves this more than you. There’s nothing to worry abo–”
“Uh ohhh. Here we go. Here we fucking go,” Indigo chanted, hiking the volume on the television.
My eyes found Mercer. In the corner with Vallei pressed against him, he ran a hand down his head. It was obvious he was familiar with Indigo’s vast personality. It was also obvious how much of a nuisance he was when they were counting down the days until their releases.
“The city of Berkeley has chosen their next mayor,” Caldwell revealed, adjusting his microphone. Cameras flashed simultaneously. Reporters chanted in the distance.
“4% of voters were in favor of Nate Echols. 45% of voters were in favor of Evan Daniels. 51% of voters were in favor of Ishmael Grayson, making Grayson the new mayor of Berkeley City. Congratulations, Grayson. Your fight continues. Grayson Cares continues.”
Cheers erupted.
Pop!
Pop!
Pop!
Pop!
Champagne showers were predicted and the forecast hadn’t failed us. Ishmael’s arms surrounded me. He pulled my body from the seat I’d occupied for the last six minutes.
“Fuck, my baby. I did it.”
“You did it!”
His hands were no longer around my body. They were on my face, holding me still. Holding me close. Holding me tight.
Telling me everything I already knew. Telling me that all Ishmael saw was me. Telling me that nothing else mattered in the moment. Telling me he didn’t see or hear anyone but me. Telling me that he needed this moment as much as he needed me.
“My baby… my baby.”
His lips pressed against mine. He parted my mouth with his tongue. I opened for him. Like I always would.
“My brother the mayor of this BITCH!” Indigo screamed, pouring the bubbling liquid over Ishmael’s head.
Laughter pulled us apart, but he didn’t venture far. Our separation was his attempt to keep the champagne from raining down onto me and ruining my hair and makeup. His consideration didn’t go unnoticed.
Indigo’s arm went around Ishmael, pulling him into his chest.
“I love you, my brother! This is only the motherfucking beginning.”
He looked toward me, holding the bottle in the air.
“Sis-law! This nigga won! This nigga fucking won!”
“Yes.” I laughed, feeling my heart swell with pride. “He did.”
“We just young Black niggas from the ’jects!” he shouted. “They ain’t expect us to be in these rooms.”
I shook my head. “They didn’t.”
He released Ishmael. His brother’s win was liberating. Not only for Indigo, but for us all. My hands collided. Joy spilled from my eyes.
Relief consumed Ishmael. He didn’t stray away. He stayed near my side.
“I’m the motherfucking mayor, my baby.”
“Yes you are.” I laughed, unable to contain my gratitude.
“This is all you,” he told me, pulling me in front of him. “My anchor. You held shit down. Made sure I came out on top.”
“Second place is last place, Ish.”
“Damn right.”
His arm was pulled in so many different directions. But, he didn’t budge. He didn’t move. His eyes were on me. Mine were on him.
“I want you beside me.”
“I am. Always.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“When I’m in front of that podium addressing everyone that believed in me enough to give me a chance, I want the woman who believes in me beside me for the world to see this is no joke. We’re no hoax. I’m real. You’re real. And, what we share is real. Can you do that for me, my baby?”
“I can.”
“Good, Mrs. Grayson,” he replied, his smile big and bright.
Darkness obstructed my view. Foreboding followed. In a room nearly full of strangers, I was leery of everyone’s presence. Ishmael knew his guests. I’d hardly gotten a chance to meet most of them. Besides my sisters and Mercer, I was swimming in a pool of unfamiliar faces.
Ishmael’s spine straightened. He pulled his suit together by the jacket, buttoning it as he pulled me into his side. I settled in uncertainty as I found my footing. The abrupt turn was uprooting.
“Ishmael. Ishmael Grayson.”
He didn’t extend his hand, but neither did the person he was introducing himself to.
My person.
“Chemistry. Chemistry Childers.”
My breath was stuck in my throat. But, still, I found the strength to analyze the room.
My heart was exposed. Out in the open. Around people that knew his face and his history.
Around people that could make one call and have him sent away for the rest of our lives.
Around people I was afraid of him being in the same room with, which was why I was hesitant to give parts of me to Ishmael.
But his presence.
His presence was his love language. It was his way of letting us know he was in support of us. And that he was standing ten toes behind us. And that he loved us. And that nothing mattered more than our happiness.
“Teddy,” I gasped.
“The phone lines are jammed. All cameras have been confiscated. No one can enter. No one can exit. I’m safe, baby.”
Nothing was the same. Rugger stood near the exit of the living room. Rome was mere feet away. Her smile assured Teddy he was in the clear. Roulette stood beside the coffee table that was littered with cellular devices. Rather held four cameras in her hand.
Roaman leaned against the wall with the official photographer’s attention. His camera was near his side. Range quietly acquired signatures of everyone in attendance. I didn’t have to read what was on the pages of the paper pinned to the clipboard to know they were Non-Disclosure forms.
“But–”
“But this is a victorious night. I’m here in support of everything you two have accomplished.”
“Appreciate that,” Ishmael cleared his throat.
“This city raised me,” Teddy explained, “Don’t let it fall under.”
“This city raised me as well. If it falls under, it means I’ve taken my last breath.”
“Rhea is home. We’re expecting you for dinner tomorrow.”
I could feel my eyes grow in my skull. While I’d been planning to travel across the water, my mother had been doing the same.
“Your mother?”
I turned to face Ishmael. Nodding, I confirmed.
“Yes.”
“The trip to visit her will have to wait, I guess.”
I agreed.
“It will.”
Turning back to Teddy, I parted my lips to inquire about the details.
“I–”
Nothing was left of him. Not even his scent. The room felt cold at once. My chest imploded before expanding. His absence never got old. The pain never dulled. It was still sharp and overwhelming.
“My baby.”
Ishmael’s hand on my arm brought me back to life.
Something inside of me died every time he vanished.
I closed my eyes, remembering happier times.
When there was Richie and Chemistry, and I didn’t have to watch him leave.
And, our time together wasn’t brief. He could stay longer. He could stay forever.
“Are you okay?”
I shook my head, turning into his chest. “No. I’m not. But, I will be.”
“Talk to me.”
He pulled my chin toward him.
“Another day, Ish. Today is your day.”
“For you,” Roulette said, handing me a glass of champagne. “And for you.”
She handed Ishmael a glass. He accepted it.
“You’re drinking now?” I chuckled.
“I’m drinking now, my baby.”
“Good for you.”
“Alright everyone,” Cameron called over the loud chatter.
“I would like to start this toast by congratulating the new mayor of our city. A beacon for change. A trailblazer. A waymaker. A selfless, genuinely caring man. I don’t think I could ask for a better boss.
Thank you for giving me the opportunity to work alongside of you. Matte–”
Matte raised her glass. Thankfully she didn’t attempt to put one foot in front of the other. She kept her back against the wall as she began.
“Mayor Grayson has shown me that nothing is impossible. I’ve worked the hardest in the last few months than I have in my entire life and it was because I knew this man deserved this spot more than anyone else on the ledger.
It brings me great joy that we were able to make that happen for him.
Our work doesn’t end here. Congratulations, Mayor Grayson… Royce–”
With wide eyes, I pursed my lips. Sensing my uneasiness, Ishmael positioned me in front of him.
“I–uh– I hardly believe anything is a coincidence. Ishmael has perfect vision, so him almost running me over feels more like fate than a mistake on his part.”
Giggles filled the space my words hadn’t.
“Nevertheless, I noticed so many special components about him then. One look into those big, dark eyes and something happened to my heart. I mean– it was immediate. He didn’t feel like a stranger.”
I pushed my emotions down my throat.
“He felt sacred. And, I felt like I’d been tasked with his safety. I had to take care of him. I had to help him handle things. I had to help him find his way. As much as I tried dismissing the urge, it stuck to me like glue.
“Shortly after our encounter, I was asked for a favor from someone I love dearly. If he asked, then the job was already done. It was that simple. To my surprise, I walked into the office of the man I’d been trying to rid my thoughts of since that perfectly imperfect night.
“And, I discovered why he felt sacred. I discovered why I’d been tasked with his safety.
I discovered why I had to take care of him.
I discovered why I needed to help him take care of things.
I discovered why I was tasked with helping him find his way.
And, I also discovered why the urge stuck to me like glue.
“Because, in the midst of my tasks, he had some of his own. He, too, felt as though I was sacred. He, too, had been tasked with my safety. He, too, felt as though he had to take care of me. Take care of my things. Help me find my way. His urge wouldn’t allow our rough beginning be our ending.
“Ishmael is something fresh out of a dream. My dream. And, because he is so good to me, I don’t doubt for a second that he won’t be as good to Berkeley. He’s exemplified it time and time again. His commitment to the city is commendable.
“The time he spends with his boots on the ground is commendable. The passion and devotion to the youth is commendable. The love he has for single mothers is commendable. His knowledge is commendable. His head is in the right place and Berkeley is blessed to have him. So– cheers to you, my baby. Cheers to Mayor Grayson.”
“To Mayor Grayson.”
My glass touched Ishmael’s glass. However, it never touched my lips. He did. As quickly as he’d spun me around, he turned me back around. Positioning me on his rigidness.
“You got my dick hard, my baby.”
He slid his arm around my waist.
“Can you put ‘em down for me?”
I sipped champagne.
“I’m not above begging,” he groaned against my ear.
I threaded my fingers through his. One foot in front of the other, I pushed through the room full of champagne flutes.
My legs didn’t stop moving until I reached Ishmael’s bedroom.
I pushed my haltered dress toward the floor.
It slid from my body with ease. Range had done well.
She’d chosen a beautiful gown for the night.
I was reminded to thank her again once we were alone.
I turned to find Ishmael’s eyes on me. I unbuttoned his suit jacket and pushed it from his shoulders.
“A dream?” He asked, finishing the champagne in his flute. I handed him mine.
“Drink up, baby.”
I wanted him nice and tipsy. The difficult part was over. He was mayor.
“A dream, my baby?” He asked again after sitting the empty glasses on the nightstand.
I shoved his pants down his legs. I fell to my knees as they hit the floor.
Ishmael’s dick was warm to the touch. Hesitancy wasn’t an issue of mine. I consumed him. As much of him as I could, eyes still on him. Once his shaft was wet from my saliva, I removed him from my mouth.
“My dream.”
I shoved him in my mouth again. He touched the back of my throat, initiating my gag reflex. My pussy salivated. Intoxication was in our favor. It wasn’t the champagne that had driven us to the point of inebriation. It was each other.