Chapter 7
Seven
Irish rode passenger seat as Ivory drove them to the salon.
After two weeks of sulking about her breakup with Noble, she felt it was time to pamper herself.
Her hair was the first stop, then nails and lastly, a wax.
Thank God for Ivory’s presence because she had kept the business intact while Irish drifted into the place of despair.
She wanted nothing more than to wallow in her bed and listen to sad-ass love songs about love lost. Unfortunately, Irish couldn’t afford to do that.
Besides, being sad didn’t feel good so she pushed herself out of bed, hoping some of her joy would return.
“I don't like Jovanis anymore,” Ivory revealed, approaching a red light.
“Because of him flipping out?”
She nodded. “Yeah, he did too much. Yoking you up like a nigga off the street then fucking up the house. I don't fuck with him anymore.”
Irish couldn’t blame her. Jovanis had been in rare form that night and went past the boundaries they’d set. Putting his hands on her was a violation, so Irish understood Ivory’s stance.
“…He came to apologize about everything. Tried to give me flowers and gifts but I didn’t want them.”
“Good ‘cause the minute you start accepting gifts for his bad behavior, the more he’s going to act out.”
Irish smirked at her wisdom. For her to be only nineteen years old, Ivory had her head on straight.
“So, what about the man you were creeping with? Is that done?”
Why did you bring him up?
Discussing Noble was a topic Irish wished to bypass. Only because it hurt not to be with the man that had infected her with love so pure, she never wanted to be cured.
“Can we talk about something else?”
Ivory glanced at her, wearing a smirk. “Why?”
“Because,” she groaned. “I had to end it and I’m sad about that. I don't even wanna talk about him.”
Irish looked at her screen, hoping to see a notification from Noble. She wished to hear the nickname that only he was allowed to call her. The only souvenir she had of their relationship was the diamond pumpkin necklace that she refused to take off.
“You shouldn’t have ended it. I’m sure Jovanis had a side bitch. Why you gotta give up yours when it was agreed that it was an open marriage?”
“I told you already that the open marriage isn’t the problem. It’s the person who I engaged in an affair with.”
“Who is it?”
“You don't know him.”
Ivory twisted his lips. “Try me.”
Irish rolled her eyes. “Noble.”
“Noble… Noble? That name sounds familiar, but I can’t put a face to it.”
“I knew you wouldn’t know him. Y’all don't run in the same circles.”
“Well, what’s so bad about him? Why is Jovanis so mad?”
“Because he’s basically his boss. Noble calls the shots in TLM.”
“Ooohhh,” Ivory drawled. “I get it but so what? He don't get to dictate who you can deal with.”
Ivory had no clue the depths she and Jovanis’ marriage had, and she didn’t intend on explaining it.
“It’s complicated, Ivory, and I don't wanna get into it right now. All I want to feel is Rozalin scrubbing my scalp in the shampoo bowl.”
“Cool.”
They arrived at the salon and parked in the lot.
The two walked into the sounds of chatter.
When their presence was known, talking immediately ceased.
She didn’t miss the dirty look Shay gave her from across the room.
Irish had been in such a sullen hole that she had temporarily forgotten about her being Noble’s ex-wife.
“Girl, look at that head,” Rozalin teased. “I have never seen your head resembling a bird’s nest.”
Irish stuck her middle finger up and took a seat while Ivory sat in Clarice’s chair.
“Probably ‘cause she’s been bopping between men,” Clarice joked.
Irish wasn’t na?ve enough to think Shay hadn’t gone back to the shop and ran her mouth about their altercation. However, she didn’t care. Noble wasn’t hers, anyway, so fuck what Shay had to say.
“You better watch it, bitch,” Irish warned. “I’m not in the mood.”
Rozalin released her ginger hair from the ponytail. “What’s got you in a tizzy?”
Irish turned around, peering at her with pursed lips. “Girl, don't sit up here and play with me. I know your miserable co-worker came back and told you how she acted a fool at that restaurant.”
“No, actually, I told them how you're a cheating-ass bitch who likes to plot on people’s exes!” Shay snapped.
“Girl, cheating where?” Ivory inserted. “She ain't cheating on shit.”
“Lil’ girl, nobody was talking to you,” Shay fired back.
Irish smirked at her. “I can’t believe you're still hung up over Noble after all these years.”
Clarice chuckled. “He must've had that good good ‘cause ol’ girl can’t move on.”
Shay cut her eyes at Clarice. “Bitch, don't play with me ‘cause this hoe up here. You was just team me.”
“Actually, I’m team nobody,” Clarice clarified.
“I can understand why, though.” Irish smirked. “Noble is big fine with all the traits that makes a good man. Losing him had to be one of your biggest L’s, huh?”
Rozalin playfully slapped Irish’s arm. “Girl, stop toying with her.”
“Nope, this what she wanted.” Irish glared at her. “She wanted to start fucking with me over a man she ain't been with in years. Do you want me to tell them why you're still hung up?”
Shay glared, holding flat irons in her hand.
“Yeah, tell us so we can know why this bitch is so bitter.” Clarice laughed.
“It’s because she knows he’s a good man, but she never had his heart. He was never in love with you, Shay, or is it, Daysha? Which person you wanna be?”
Ivory laughed. “Say it ain't so.”
“Oh, it’s so. Now every woman he gets with, she wanna come at them like they owe her something.”
“So, it’s true then? You are cheating on your husband?” Clarice asked.
“Of course, this bitch is cheating. You should’ve seen the way her and Noble were hugged up at the table,” Shay lied.
“Girl, you never even saw us at the table. You were there when it was just me. We spoke and then Noble approached. So, tell me when we were hugged up.”
“Lying ass,” Ivory sneered.
“But back to my original question.” Clarice narrowed her eyes. “Are you fucking off on your husband?”
“That’s none of your business,” Irish fired back.
Clarice bobbed her head. “Oh, you definitely creeping.”
“Yeah, she’s a cheating-ass hoe. I wonder how Jovanis would feel if I told him how much of a whore you truly are.”
“Tell him.” Irish shrugged. “That’s not going to change the fact that Noble dropped your ass and never looked back.”
In one quick motion, Shay threw the flat iron toward Irish, striking her on the forearm.
Gasps filled the room before Irish realized what had happened. When it registered in her mind that Shay had burned her, Irish jumped from her seat and rushed her.
“Bitch!” Irish yelled, punching Shay in the mouth. “Now, I’m ‘bout to beat your ass.”
“Y’all stop!” Clarice yelled between laughs.
“No, she threw a flat iron at my sister. Let her get her ass whooped,” Ivory declared.
Irish hammered Shay’s face with no mercy. She fell into the corner, knocking down all of her hair supplies along the way.
“Irish, let her go!” Rozalin yelled, attempting to pull her off of Shay.
All of the anger and pent-up frustration was released with each punch to Shay’s face.
Irish wanted to stop but the rage in her wouldn’t allow her to.
Thoughts of Jovanis taking all of her years away and Noble dismissing her increased her anger.
Then, her mother not protecting her surfaced inside her mind.
Typically, Irish had self-control, but she’d bubbled over with defeat.
Shay had caught her on the wrong day and now she was paying for it.
“Y’all help me!” Rozalin said.
Soon after, more hands grabbed Irish and peeled her away from Shay. She cowered in the corner, face bloody with a swollen lip.
“Now keep fucking with me and I promise you’ll get more than what I just gave you, hoe!”
“Bitch.” Shay spat out blood. “You just fucked up. I swear you don't even know what you did.”
They pulled Irish away and pinned her on the other side of the salon.
“Irish, you my girl and all but you gotta go.” Rozalin shook her head, handing her purse to her.
She instantly gawked. “You're really going to say that after she burned me with a fucking flat iron?”
“Right, you ain't say nothing when Shay threw it at her!” Ivory countered.
Noticing something out of her peripheral vision, Irish ducked when she noticed a set of curling irons coming her way.
“You see this shit!” Irish pointed out. “But you want me to leave.”
“Yes, because if you stay y’all are gonna keep fighting. I can’t have this shit in my shop,” Rozalin explained.
“Fuck this,” Irish muttered, grabbing her purse from the chair. “You’ll never see me again with your biased ass. Come on, Ivory.”
The two barged out of the salon and went to the car. Irish hadn’t been this livid since her childhood. She didn’t get into fights. She was always pleasant but dealing with a disgruntled ex-wife, who tried to assassinate her character was her breaking point.
“You okay, sis? You wanna wait for her out here?”
“No, let’s go. I’m done with her bitter ass.”
“But what about our hair?”
“Girl.” Irish smacked her lips. “We’ll find a new stylist. Let’s go to the coffee shop and browse TikTok for a stylist.”
“Okay.”
Cali descended the staircase and noticed Douglas sitting in the living room with Bria on the side of him.
When he peered at her, distress was etched all over his features.
Guilt wouldn’t leave her mind even after an eviction notice.
Not only was Cali guilty over what she’d done to Rio but also for stressing her father out.
“I have an update for you,” he told her as she took a seat.
“What is it?”
Intertwining his fingers together, he exhaled a deep breath. “I met with Rio.”
“And?” she eagerly asked. “What did he say?”
“He said in order to lift the bounty off of you, I would have to pay.”
Bria’s brows furrowed. “How much?”
“It’s a lot. I don't wanna say but just know it was paid.”