Chapter 7 Rhythm Brooks
RHYTHM brOOKS
After my meeting with Sincere, I had been so motivated. Every day after work, I put my kids down and then I went right back to my canvases. I had been working on the most beautiful piece I had ever created.
A mother was at the center of it. Her skin was deep and rich.
Her face was tired but unbreakable. One hand was pressed to her chest like she was holding her faith in place, and the other was wrapped around her baby’s back protectively.
Behind her, I painted the block she lived on.
There were porch steps, streetlights, corner store signage, cracked sidewalks that had raised whole generations behind her.
I layered it with gold not to make it “pretty,” but to show the holiness in surviving.
I put halos in the wrong places on purpose—around her hands, around her knees, around the tiredness under her eyes.
In the background, I painted silhouettes of other mothers.
They were blurred but there. And above it all, I wrote the title in small, almost-hidden letters inside the texture of the sky: Mothers of the Block, because to me it did not mean struggle.
It meant power. It meant women who carried everything and still found a way to feed somebody else.
Since that night, I couldn’t think about anything except creating the best work of my life.
My brain had clicked into a different setting, and I was focused.
Every time I blinked, I saw brush strokes, colors, faces, and concepts for Mothers of the Block that were bigger than anything I’d ever done.
Every night that I got off work, I was running on adrenaline and painted until three/four in the morning.
Though I couldn’t think of anything else, thoughts of Sincere would invade from time to time.
Hanging out with him had made him more than a fine man with money who was helping make my dreams come true.
It made him human. He was funny and so down to earth.
But I couldn’t even see with binoculars anything more than a professional relationship with him.
He was out of my league, so his flirtation made me feel like he just wanted to fuck.
That would be a messy situation with a man that fine and rich, and I wasn’t about to make things weird.
We had work to do. This opportunity mattered too much for me to let my hormones fuck it up.
A few days later, after work, I had paint cups, palettes, rags, and sketch papers spread across the dining room table.
Canvases were leaning against the wall. Stretcher bars and staple guns were laid out on the floor.
My kids were finally settled. Homework was done, and they were watching TV in the living room, waiting on Kodi to bring them dinner.
I had my Air Pod in my ear as I talked to my mother.
“I have to tell you something, Mama,” I said as I pressed the stretcher bar down while I lined it up, stapling with one hand.
“What?”
I cringed as if she was sitting right in front of me.
I had refrained from telling her this bit of information when I first called her after my meeting because I didn’t want it to taint her excitement for me.
“The people sponsoring the event are the same ones behind the development being built on 83rd.”
There was silence on the line for a second. Then my mama whisper-screamed, “What?”
I laughed. “Yes. The man sponsoring me, Sincere Bellamy, is the owner of Bellamy Urban Development.”
Even the thought of him made my whole body tingle. Now that I had met Sincere in person, I could not stop replaying the way he looked, smelled, and carefully handled me when I was a blubbering mess. I definitely couldn’t forget how big that print was when he stood up to get that tequila.
My gawd tuhday!
On top of being a beautiful man, he was sexy in a dominant, teacher kind of way.
He made me want to listen and be guided because I could feel he knew exactly what he was doing.
I loved that he was a man who could teach me something that could change my life.
But I was not about to let lust ruin an opportunity this big, so I shoved the thoughts back where they belonged and reminded myself this was business, no matter what my body wanted to turn it into.
But I didn’t feel like I was a woman of Sincere’s caliber. He owned an investment firm and was building condos in the neighborhood, and I could barely afford to pay my rent. We were in two completely different lanes.
“Rhythm,” my mother warned.
“I know,” I rushed. “I know. But Ma… he wants me to do a big mural in the lobby and another one in the community center once it’s finished. And he introduced me to some of his associates who want my work in their businesses. And Ma… it already panned out.”
My mama’s tone shifted instantly. “It did?”
His business associates had been sending me signed contracts for days, and I was still smiling from ear-to-ear. “Yes, I already got some deposits.”
“Deposits?” Mama repeated, and I could hear the smile in her voice now.
“Deposits. Like real money, Ma. And a lot of it.”
“Look at God.”
Grinning, I pulled the canvas tightly toward the corner and stapled it. “I’m already making more money than I have ever seen.”
“That’s so amazing.”
I teased. “You’re cool with that building being built now, aren’t you?”
“I’m cool with whatever is putting money in my daughter’s pocket, as long as it’s legal. They can build condos, castles, they can build a damn spaceship if they’re paying you.”
As I laughed, KJ yelled my name from the living room.
“What?” I called back.
“I can’t find my tablet!”
Groaning, I yelled back, “It is literally on the charger next to your bed. Did you even look?”
“Oh.”
My phone beeped with another call coming in. I glanced down and saw that it was Aria Voss. My heart skipped a beat because I still wasn’t used to her hitting my phone so casually.
“Ma, hold on. Aria’s calling.”
“Put me on three-way. Let me hear how rich people talk.”
“Girl, no,” I spat, laughing as I clicked over. “Hello?”
“Hi, Rhythm. I’m just checking in. How are you doing?”
I looked around my living room at the canvas bars on the floor and my supplies everywhere. “I’m… good. I’m excited… and overwhelmed.”
“That is a normal combination. I wanted to make sure Sincere followed through.”
Just like that, my focus slipped away. My heart started thundering and my mouth went dry. All I could see was that tall frame inked up with tattoos.
“He did. He’s done everything he said he would. I’m really grateful.”
“Good. That is why I put you in the room with him.”
“I’ve been so busy getting started with these pieces.”
“Not too busy that you aren’t able to get ready for Thanksgiving, I hope. What are your plans for the holiday?”
“Nothing really. My mother is visiting my aunt for the holidays. I was just going to cook something small for the kids, but honestly, they would be happy with pizza, and I’ll probably do that so that I can work.”
Aria disapprovingly sucked her teeth. “Absolutely not. You are coming to my house.”
I froze. “Your house?”
“Yes. There is no way you will eat pizza and work on Thanksgiving. You will come here.”
My mind tried to catch up. “Aria, are you sure? You barely know me.”
“I have plans for you, Rhythm. If I am going to be putting you in rooms with people who can change your life, then we need to get better acquainted.”
I stared at the canvases on my floor, blinking owlishly.
“Okay,” I heard myself say. “I’ll come.”
“Good. I will text you the time and the address.”
An hour later, Kodi was at my door.
I opened it, praying he wouldn’t bother me while he was here.
“Hey,” he said, stepping in.
Before I could even speak, he tried to pull me into a hug.
I pushed him back politely. “Kodi… no.”
He frowned, but I turned and walked away from the doorway.
My son came running toward the door as soon as he heard his father’s voice. Kinsley toddled behind him.
“Daddy!” KJ exclaimed, then his eyes went straight to the bags. “McDonald’s!”
Kinsley’s whole face lit up. “Nuggets!”
They were happy to see their father, but they were happier to see that brown bag and yellow arches.
Kodi took them into the living room, and I went back to my canvas. I picked up my brush and went back to work.
When I heard him coming into the dining room, my stomach sank. I kept my back to him and continued painting.
Then I felt a smack across my ass, followed by a low groan. I spun around so fast my brush almost flew out of my hand. “Do not touch me.”
Kodi frowned like I was overreacting. “Damn, Rhythm—”
I cut him off. “Leave me alone.”
He stared at me like he could not believe I had the nerve to mean it. “That’s my shit.”
“If it was your shit, you would have supported it.” I spoke through gritted teeth, trying to keep the kids from hearing me. “I wouldn’t have had to take my kids to that meeting if this was ‘your shit.’”
“If that one thing would make you stop fucking with me for real, you’ve been wanting to stop fucking with me. You got you a new nigga or something?”
“It’s not about that, Kodi. I’m trying to do something that can change our kids’ lives, and you don’t care. Despite it being literally all that I am besides my kids, you are making this opportunity seem trivial. That type of person doesn’t deserve this pussy.”
Glaring, his eyes slid around the room. Then he scoffed. “You care more about this art shit than your kids.”
My glower deepened. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“That’s why I had to bring them dinner? Because you too busy in here doodling? You in here playing Picasso while your kids hungry.”
My hands curled around the brush. I wanted to stab him with it.
“You are their father, and if I am too busy to cook, you should be happy to feed them. And the fact that you don’t understand that is the very reason why you will never even smell this pussy again.”
Kodi shook his head, glaring at me. “You really think some rich-ass people gon’ pay for this hood shit?”
My eyes burned instantly, not because I was weak, but because I couldn’t believe that this was the type of man that I had been sleeping with. But it wasn’t. Kodi hadn’t been this disrespectful until he couldn’t get what he wanted.
“Get out,” I spit.
Kodi laughed like I was bluffing. “Rhythm—”
“Get the fuck out of my house,” I repeated, louder.
KJ’s voice called from the living room. “Mom?”
“I’m okay,” I called back. “Eat your food.”
Then I glared at Kodi. “I said get out. You are not about to disrespect me in my house, especially when you don’t pay one bill in this motherfucker.”
Kodi turned to leave, but his hip “accidentally” hit the small table where I had a cup of paint sitting. The cup tipped over, and thick, dark, wet paint spilled right onto the finished piece I had completed yesterday that had been leaning against the wall drying.
“Fuck!” I gasped.
Kodi paused at the doorway and looked back with this cold glare I had never seen before. Then he just walked out. The door shut behind him with a soft click.
For a second, I stood there staring at the ruined canvas in disbelief. As tears fell, I hated that he could still do that to me. I hated that he could make me feel small in my own home.
I wiped my face, because he didn’t deserve my tears. I crouched in front of the canvas, grabbing rags. I dabbed, blotted, and tried to lift the paint without smearing it worse, but it was already soaked into parts of the work.