Chapter 2
Brynn
(SmokinLady)
“You bitch! How could you give me a one-star review? You just killed my career in the cannabis industry.”
Frowning, I walked around the desk, folded my arms, cocked my head to the left, and asked, “Mr. White, did you just call me a bitch?”
“Yes, I did.” He pointed a finger in my face. “You called the plants I grow stale, spongy, and you didn’t stop there! You called my product low-grade. There’s no coming back from this. I’m done for.” He shook his head.
Noticing the police officers rounding the corner, I took a step toward Mr. White and told him, “Yes, you are done for. Your product was the worst weed I’d ever smoked in my life. Not only was it the lowest quality around, but it also had no texture. I believe I wrote in the article …” I placed a finger to my chin. “Oh right!” I snapped my fingers. “It was so bad that it’s what the young people call ditch weed, dirt weed, and brick weed, which means it was dry, crumbly, brown, and smelled horrible.” I fanned my nose with my hand.
“Yikes, it sucks to be you,” I added with a grin.
In a flash, Mr. White charged at my neck. The police officers standing at the door tackled him to the carpet before he could reach my inner space. I stood over his body as he wiggled and twitched under the handcuffs the officers had placed on his thick wrists.
“You bitch,” he spat. “I’m going to choke the life from your body.”
“Stand in line.” I laughed. “Get this piece of shit out my office,” I told the officers as they snatched him from the floor and flung his beefy body against the wall right before dragging him out onto the elevator.
Exhaling, I leaned back on my desk and yelled, “Terri, in my office. Now!”
Terri, my executive assistant, came running in with a notepad in her hands. She was in her twenties, a short, caramel-skinned girl. I’d given her her first job and now I was wondering if I’d made a mistake.
“Yes, Ms. Tyson, I am so sorry about what happened.”
“No need for an apology,” I told her with wide eyes. “I need to know how that trash got past security downstairs and up the elevators to my office.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m working on it,” she answered in a shaky voice.
“Don’t work on it … I want to find out now!” I screamed.
Terri trembled and her eyes widened. “Sure thing. I’ll find out before the day is over.”
“Yes, you do that, because there’s no way he should’ve made it in my office. As a matter of fact, I want you to get on the phone with Edward and tell him if he can’t protect me from these lunatics, I quit.”
“The CEO of the Chicago Post Tribune?” she asked, looking baffled.
“Do you know another Edward?” I asked sarcastically, smacking my lips and rolling my eyes.
“N-No. I-I don’t, m-ma’am. I’m o-on it,” Terri stammered over her words while backing out the office.
Once she left, I slammed the door shut and fell against it, placing my head in my hands.
This was the first time I came that close to getting murdered by a person I did a review on. I was a critic in the cannabis industry and this profession was no different from critics who rated and reviewed movies. I didn’t see movie producers breaking down movie reviewers’ doors and trying to kill them. This mishap was the reason I wanted to stay anonymous, but everyone wanted to see and know the woman behind the cannabis pen.
Unbeknownst to me, I became a sensation overnight. I started my marijuana blog back in college. At first, I used to talk about the different types of weed plants and the effects it would have on your body. Then that morphed into me interviewing avid weed smokers who would call in and give tips.
My love of smoking came from my grandfather, who was a renowned pot head. He had a marijuana garden in his backyard, before people were actually talking about growing it themselves. At first, he smoked for recreational purposes and at his bi-weekly parties he threw with my grandmother. But as the years went by, his friends started to pay him money for it. He made so much money that he was able to quit his railroad job.
On Sunday mornings, when my grandparents would leave for church, I would sneak in his stash box—that he kept tucked away under his bed—and smoke the joints he had rolled. I’d seen him perform the act before by bringing the white rolled paper to his nose and taking a sniff, and then he would take a lighter and burn the end. That’s exactly what I would do at thirteen years old.
Before long, my grandparents found out I was smoking weed. I can still remember the day when my grandmother chased me around the house with her slipper for two hours, trying to beat my ass. I ran around and around, hid under beds and the kitchen table, and I guess she got tired when I sprinted out the front door and ran two miles down the road. My grandpa told her it was a waste of time, and it was best I did it under supervision than to be out there sneaking.
As the years passed, marijuana became my nutriment. My body depended on it to function. It seemed I was smarter with it, and I could think outside of the box in complex situations. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case for most. I’d met folks who’d had bad reactions from the high it gave. In the marijuana world, we said those folks had a bad ride.
At first, I didn’t know selling weed was illegal, but now looking back on it as a grown woman, my grandpa was an undercover marijuana dealer.
Smiling, I slid my blue four-inch heels off my aching feet. These babies had been crammed in these narrow shoes for seven hours.
Being a woman is hard work,I thought, as I hobbled back to my chair.
The sun was setting for the evening, and I was hoping to leave the office a little early to stop by my favorite restaurant, Joe’s Seafood, on State Street, to grab his famous shrimp and grits dish. It wasn’t far from my condo, which was in the heart of downtown Chicago, and I loved it, because it granted me the ability to not have to own a car and I could walk to work.
Life was good. Nowadays, I only smoked to give a review or to relieve stress, which was exactly what I needed to do as soon as I got home.
My phone chirped as I hit the enter button on my sleeping laptop to awakening it. “Hello,” I blurted without glancing down at the caller ID.
“Brynn.”
Shocked, I took the phone from my ear and stared at it for a brief moment. I hadn’t heard from my caller in months. Balancing the cell phone between my shoulder and ear, I asked, “Is this the Ant man?”
“Yep,” he chuckled. “It’s been too long.”
“Most def,” I agreed, smiling.
“Did you get my wedding invitation in the mail?”
Fumbling with a stack of papers on the desk, I sat up straight. “Wedding invitation?” I quipped.
“Yes, I’m getting married on 4/20.”
I stood and briskly strolled over to the windows, barefoot, to stare out at the water taxis roaring up and down the river. “You,” I paused, “Anthony Morton, are getting married in two weeks on Cannabis Day?”
“I sure am, and don’t sound so surprise.” He laughed. “Even a ladies’ man has to settle down one day.”
Bullshit. In my experience, once a fuckboy always a fuckboy.
“I take it that you didn’t get the invite. Because I haven’t seen your RSVP yet.”
“No, I didn’t,” I replied, placing a hand on my hip.
Anthony, known as Ant in college, was known as a ladies’ man. Ant dated anything that was breathing. He didn’t have a specific type; women were his type, all shapes and sizes, he didn’t discriminate. He was the last person in our group of friends that anyone would think would’ve gotten married. We always referred to him as Quinton from The Best Man because he bounced from woman to woman. However, the thought of him getting married before me made me feel some type of way. What I felt exactly was still debatable. Possibly, I felt a little jealousy, but nevertheless I was happy for my friend, which led me to ask, “Who’s the poor soul who agreed to marry you?”
“Hahaha! You’re funny, Brynn.”
“I’m serious.”
“Well, her name is Joy, and we met a few months ago.”
“Wait, are you for real, Ant? You’re about to marry someone you just met?”
“Yes,” he stated forcefully. “And I don’t need no shit from y’all. I love her. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
Hearing the seriousness in his voice, I dismissed the rampant questions brewing in my head. “If you’re happy, I’m happy for you, bro,” I revealed truthfully. “Congrats.”
“Thanks, Brynn. By the way, I invited you know who. He’s a groomsman.”
Grunting, I flopped down in my chair and lifted my closed eyes toward the ceiling. “I know Crimson is your boy, but I was hoping to avoid him.”
“Well, I was hoping you’d forgiven him by now for whatever happened between y’all.”
“That’s not going to happen, Ant.”
“Why, Brynn? You can’t hold onto this grudge forever. The group kind of separated after you two fell out. It was like y’all were the glue keeping the group together.”
“Don’t do that, Ant.”
“Don’t do what?” he asked promptly.
“Blame me for the group going their separate ways. That shit was already happening before Crim, and I stopped talking.”
“Maybe,” he retorted. “But y’all were like this—”
“Stop it, Ant,” I interrupted him mid-sentence. “Don’t even say it. It was all in my head, and I’d rather not have to explain myself to you right now.”
“Fair enough,” he agreed. “But I wanted to give you a heads-up on him being at the wedding.”
Nodding to myself, I tried to take my mind off my nemesis by tossing a few papers in the shredder. “Thanks for the heads-up,” I relayed. “I’ll be there, Ant. Put me down for one.”
“Sure thing,” he responded. “It’ll be good to see you. Oh, by the way, I wanted to ask you to be a groomswoman in my wedding.”
“Ha! A groom’s what?” I asked, stuffing more papers in the shredder.
“A groomsman, but you’re a woman.”
“Have you been smoking, Ant?”
“Nah, Brynn. Please say yes. I know the shit sounds all awkward, but I can’t get married without my three closest best friends by my side.”
I massaged my forehead. “I’ve never heard of that shit before, Ant.”
“I know, but it’ll mean the world to me if you can do it.”
Groaning, I twirled around in the chair I sat in with my eyes closed tightly. I couldn’t believe what I was about to agree to. Never in a million years would I’ve thought I’d be having this conversation with anyone. But Ant was my boy, he’d been there through it all. From the death of my grandparents to my very first car accident. He was the man I could depend on, which made me say, “Okay.”
“Thanks, Brynn.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I told him. “I don’t have the slightest idea what the hell my role is.”
We both laughed in unison.
“To stand by my side, that’s it.”
Our laughter subsided when he also confessed, “I want you to know no matter how long we go without talking, you’ll always be my girl. Thanks for being there when I need you.”
“I got you, Ant.” I sniffled. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Great.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Next week kicks off the pre-wedding festivities in Michigan.”
“Huh?”
“Listen,” he explained, “we are visiting a few wineries.”
“Next week,” I repeated, flipping through the calendar on my desk. “This is such short notice, Ant.” I inwardly panicked.
“Please, Brynn! I know I’m asking a lot, but I need you there to keep the guys in check.”
God, me being with Crimson for a week is going to drive me crazy. I can’t do this.
It was as if Ant read my mind, because he added, “Maybe you can take this time with Crim to clear the air.”
“Or not,” I quipped.
“It’s your choice, Brynn.”
We talked a little more about the pre-wedding festivities before ending the call.
After slipping on my ballerina slippers that were under my desk, I gathered my purse, keys, and planner from the bottom drawer. Talking to Ant had brought up some unwanted thoughts and feelings I’d left behind me fifteen years ago, but despite how much I wanted to forget my mind drifted back to my college days at Columbia University.
It was weird to others that I was the only girl in our group of three boys, but to me it was normal. I grew up in a household with two older cousins. So, it was like brotherly love with Anthony, Rob, and Crimson. We all connected in our freshman year at homecoming. At half-time, I stood behind the bleachers smoking a joint, and Ant was standing a few feet away with his tongue halfway down a girl’s throat. We had a biology class together, so we were already acquainted. Rob and Crim were friends from their hometown in Evanston, Illinois. Enjoying my high, I didn’t notice when Rob and Crim circled me and asked for a puff. I’d willingly passed the bud around to the two boys who were both unbelievably handsome.
In my life, I’d always migrated more toward males. We had more in common because I didn’t do messy or drama, and it seemed most of the girls I met were either one or both. So, I latched on to male company. After that day I would meet the guys in their dorm rooms to smoke and trip out. Surprisingly, we even got studying done on some of our weed smoking nights.
We established early on in our friendship that I was not attracted to any of them after the many attempts from Ant trying to sleep with me. Well, that wasn’t entirely true … I held a secret crush for Crim all the way to my senior year of college.
Standing, I slid my purse strap on my shoulder and shook my head at the unwanted thoughts plaguing my mind. I had finally built up the courage to tell Crim how I felt about him on the night his fraternity performed in a step show. He had told me to meet him at the venue, but when I arrived, he was nowhere to be found. After calling his cellphone a few times with no response, I realized I was an hour early and Crim was known to be fashionably late.
So, like any best friend, I decided to go back to the apartment he shared with Rob and Ant to put some fire up under his ass.
It was a dreadful day when I not only found Crim at home in bed, but I also found my roommate and friend in the bed with him. The images and sounds of Crim banging my roommate from behind still haunted my dreams. The squeals she sounded out still broke my heart. It took me years to get that sight out of my head. The crazy part about it was I wished it was me he wanted in that way. I’d done everything I could to show him that I wanted more, and that our friendship wasn’t enough for me anymore. I’d never told him how I truly felt, but some shit should be understood. Right?
But the fucked-up part about it all was my roommate was the only person I had told about the secret crush I held for Crim. Not only did she betray me, but she stuck her knife so far in my back, I could still feel the effects to this day. However, I couldn’t fathom the fact that she had him in such an intimate way that I would never know.
It was like someone had taken a bite out of my steak and left me the leftovers. I knew I shouldn’t compare Crim to a steak but that’s what it felt like. How could I proceed with telling him my feelings after he’d been with someone I once knew?
That night I got out of his room unseen. I ran down the two flights of stairs and out of the apartment complex, headed straight to my apartment, packed my belongings, and moved back home. It was only a week before graduation. That was the last time I saw Crimson.
Stepping out of my office door into the hallway, I lifted my head, and froze. “Edward.”
“Terri called me, and I rushed down here to make sure you were okay,” he stated, advancing toward me with furrowed eyebrows.
“I’m good, Edward.” I took a step back from him.
“I want you to know we take these things seriously around here, and I’ll get to the bottom of how he got past security.”
“Thank you,” I replied hesitatingly.
Something about Edward gave me the heebie-jeebies. Maybe it was in the way he looked at me, as if he was undressing me with his eyes. Or maybe it was in the way he now gripped my hand and brought it his chest to say, “Are you sure you’re fine, Brynn?”
If I never knew what sexual harassment looked like in the workplace, I’m sure it looked something like this.
Is he flirting with me?
Snatching my hand back from his embrace, I nodded. “Thanks for coming all the way down here. We just need better security. And that guy was all smoke … I don’t think he’ll actual do anything.”
Edward advanced toward me again. “I’ll make sure he’s prosecuted for threatening your life. We have it all on video.” He pointed to a camera outside of my office.
Blinking, I asked, “Oh, when did that get there? And it’s pointing right into my office.”
“Yes. I had it installed a few weeks ago.”
Cringing, I started to feel uneasy. When I first met Edward, he was a little creepy, but over the years, he became a full- blown weirdo. I would hear the women in the office joke around about not being caught in a dark alley with him. In the beginning, I would laugh it off, but as the subtle advances started to happen, I believed those women were on to something.
“I was just heading out, but I’d like that camera to watch the lobby for people coming in and out,” I said, absently, as I strolled past him and down the hallway. “I don’t think it needs to be watching my office.
“Sure thing, Brynn.” He grabbed my wrist.
When I turned toward him, he licked his lips in a seductive manner, and I frowned. “Can you please let me go?” I asked, with a stern voice.
“Oh, sorry,” he responded, taking a step back and massaging his beard.
“Is there anything else?” I asked when I noticed Terri packing her bags to go. The last thing I needed was to be left alone in this office with creep-o Edward.
“Well, yes, I do have a question for you.”
Oh shit, is he stalling me because he sees Terri is about to leave? I thought.
“Have you decided who you’re going to write your 4/20 article on? You know this can be a big deal for whatever company you choose. They’ll be highlighted with the Chicago Post for the entire month of April, and with it coming from you it would boost their ratings in the industry for years to come.”
“Ah,” I stated, feeling relieved that he actually had a legitimate question.
“I haven’t figured it out, Ed, but when I do, you’ll be the first to know,” I said, backing down the hallway with a smile.
“Well, I did email you over a list of potential cannabis cultivation centers, clinics, and dispensaries to consider.”
“Okay,” I shouted over my shoulder as I turned toward Terri and yelled, “Hold the elevator please.” When I stepped inside and turned, Edward was standing with a foot stuck between the elevator doors.
WTF.
“Hey, you have a good night, Brynn.” He winked.
“You too, Ed,” I answered at the same time I hit the close button on the grey panel several times.
He finally removed his foot, and Terri gazed in my direction with a frown. I kept my head straight, because one thing I’d learned in life was not to give energy to things I couldn’t control. But I feared that one day, I might have to use that energy to break Edward’s fucking face.