Chapter 16
T onight, we were meeting Abdul, Carter, and their wives at the Monarch’s game to talk business. A much-needed break from the traditional donor dinners and fundraisers, but still hard to enjoy after Navie’s confession.
I don’t know what the fuck I expected her to admit regarding Lorenzo, but it wasn’t that. Now that I knew, I couldn’t get it out of my head. Hitting the bag, imagining his face didn’t do it. Holding Navie closer didn’t cure the itch to make him live in fear the same way he’d done her.
“What do you need with that?” she asked, nodding as I tucked my gun in my waist.
“You don’t have one,” I replied instead, because we were on our own tonight. Just me and Blue, so it was my job to keep us safe.
I’d rather use it on the bitch ass nigga that couldn’t keep his hands to himself.
“Had one,” she spat, “You took it. Where is it?”
I did. Now I toyed with the crazy idea of giving it back.
“You don’t need it. You’ve got me,”
My smile didn’t move Navie.
“Sounds like you don’t trust me.”
“I trust you as much as you trust me,” I replied, leaning against the dresser and folding my arms. “How much trust do we have, Blue?”
Ignoring the question, she sauntered over, stepping between my feet into my space.
“Enough to have some fun tonight with my work husband .”
She giggled at the way my face contorted at her backhanded compliment.
“ Work husband ? I guess I need to put a ring on your finger to make it official.”
“Don’t irritate me before I have to play nice with these wives at a fuckin’ basketball game of all places,” Navie fussed, while I slid my hands inside the back pocket of her jeans.
“Can’t fuck up the church’s money, so smile pretty. They’ll have food for your greedy ass to half eat.”
She kissed her teeth and fussed, “Shut up! I can’t help that I get full fast.”
“Let’s ride. We can’t be late. That’s not a good luck.”
Grabbing Navie’s hand, I guided us through the house to the elevator. She stepped off first, her back exposed in the white halter top, her muscles shifting to accompany the sway of her hips. I caught the keys from the valet with my free hand, opening the door for Navie to slip inside.
We drove to the arena, Navie asking questions about Carter and Tyra.
I’d seen them around but didn’t have much to share.
When we arrived, Navie’s eyes wandered, causing her body to follow.
This was Navie’s first basketball game, and in a box at that.
A few times, I had to grab her shoulder to redirect her.
Then it became easier to interlock my fingers with hers so she didn’t get lost in a sea of patrons trying to find their seats.
“Navie, so glad you guys could make it,” Daige greeted Navie with a hug before introducing us to Tyra and Carter, since she was the mutual connection.
“The infamous Treason Westbrook and Navie Dixon. Y’all are so cute,” Tyra complimented, encircling Navie, one hand on the small of her back, the same way I did.
Abdul and Carter greeted us both before the women whisked Navie away under the guise of saving her from business talk. They were sitting on the couch, enjoying champagne while the three of us watched the Monarchs’ whoop ass.
It was hard to enjoy with Tyra eyeing Navie like a dessert menu. Each time she leaned in too close, my jaw tightened. She kept her smile in place, calm and practiced, but I knew what she looked like when she was comfortable.
It damn sure wasn’t this.
Carter wasn’t oblivious, clearing his throat to shoot warning glances that Tyra ignored.
I peeped how she didn’t try that shit with Daige.
That made me curious about what the fuck they were really into.
The buzzer sounded, and I was ready to get away from Tyra’s weird eyes, but she had other plans when we hit the parking lot.
“The night is still young! I know a lounge we can hit up,” Tyra suggested, as we entered the parking garage.
“It’s already past my bedtime. You’re asking for a lot now,” Daige quipped.
“You never hang out with us,” Tyra sulked, then shifted to Navie, clinging to my chest because she was cold, “Please tell me y’all are more fun than these two?”
We shared a silent conversation. It was our own language that didn’t require words, just an array of expressions to express that I was ready to go the fuck home. In the end, Navie won, turning to Tyra to accept her invitation, because a happy wife, happy life, even if she’s your work wife .
“Great, I’ll shoot Navie the address. We’ll meet you guys there!” Tyra pumped her fist as she walked to the car with Carter.
“Be safe tonight,” Daige said, hugging Navie before turning to me, “Keep an eye on her.”
“Always.” I waited until Daige and Abdul were a safe distance before asking, “What was that about?”
“I don’t know.”
Daige seemed like an intentional woman. Even if Navie didn’t notice, it was a warning that made me glad I brought my gun. Inside the car, I tucked it under the seat and pulled into the street.
“Every time Carter was ready to write a check, Tyra came with another fuckin’ question,” Navie complained, plugging in the address Tyra sent.
“Welcome to marriage. Wives run the show.”
“I’m surprised a romantic like yourself would say something so pessimistic. I must be rubbing off on you.” Navie blushed at the idea of turning my heart cold.
Although I enjoyed her smile, I had to burst her bubble.
“Men are logical. We focus on facts, but some shit in life comes down to discernment most men aren’t blessed with. That’s where y’all come in, Pippen .”
“I’m glad you recognize we’re superior.”
Men loved to convince themselves they were the ones running things, but a wise man knew he didn’t run shit at all. It was the women pulling the strings we didn’t even see.
“A smart man knows a woman’s power multiplies when he does his job right.” I winked, stealing a glance at Navie as she did her best avoidant act.
“Do your job right tonight, and get us this money,” she retorted.
I turned up the music and drove to a private, upscale club called Velour. It didn’t look like any club Ward and I used to hit. Back then, we didn’t have enough money or cache to get into a place like this.
But the second we crossed the threshold, it was clear Velour wasn’t just a club, and Daige’s warning made sense.
Dim lights washed everything in red. Everywhere I looked, there was silk and lace, rope and restraints, masks gleaming under chandeliers.
A woman straddled a man in an open booth, as if it were part of the décor.
Another had her wrists bound, head tilted back in bliss while someone whispered against her throat.
We should’ve followed Daige and Abdul’s lead and taken our asses home too. Instead, Navie stopped short, heels clicking to a halt. For once, she didn’t have words. Instead, her eyes flicked wide then narrowed, trying to reel her expression under control.
Tearing her eyes from the dancers stripping, they traveled across the room to Tyra and Carter, lounging on a low velvet couch as if they owned the place.
Tyra’s dress clung to every curve, slit high up her thigh, while Carter had his arm draped lazily across the back of the couch, much more relaxed than he was at the game.
“Hey girl!” Tyra jumped up, greeting Navie with that feline grin that made my jaw tighten.
Carter extended a firm handshake. “Glad you made it,” he said, like we’d just stepped into a cocktail party instead of the sex-fueled den we were now standing in.
I gave a short nod, Tyra’s eyes sparkling as she circled Navie like a cat.
“What are you guys drinking?” Tyra asked, signaling the waiter.
“We’re not,” I replied smoothly, letting the edge of my tone land.
Carter chuckled, “Relax. No one’s asking you to participate. Velour’s about exploration. Watching, learning, maybe tasting, if curiosity strikes.”
“I appreciate the interest. But we’re here to talk business,” I said smoothly, letting a sliver of edge creep into my tone.
Tyra didn’t back down. If anything, she leaned closer, her fingers brushing the edge of Navie’s hand. “Business, yes, but you two are far too interesting to ignore. I like to explore . . . ideas, perspectives, people.”
“Treason’s ideas will change the way people think about this city, shift perspectives, and actually get things done.”
Tyra’s eyes flicked between us, the predatory smirk tugging at her lips.
“I’m intrigued,” she said, voice low, sultry.
“This city needs change, and you seem like the man for the job. It doesn’t hurt that you’re handsome.
I hear some people have reservations about backing your campaign.
I’ve heard rumblings about your mother’s past.”
“Her decisions are hers. That has nothing to do with me and even less to do with Treason,” Navie defended.
“Relax, I’m not most people. I find that… intriguing. Most shy away from a challenge like this. I like someone who sees opportunity where others see risk.”
Carter, seated beside her, chuckled, clearly enjoying his wife’s obvious admiration for us, even if it was part game, part genuine intrigue.
I let my own smirk play on my lips, voice calm but edged with amusement. “It’s all about perspective. Challenges are just opportunities in disguise.”
Before we could respond, a man in a crisp suit appeared at their side, whispering something into Carter’s ear. “Looks like someone needs us for a moment,” he announced, standing up, and Tyra joined him.
She chuckled, standing beside him. “We’ll be back to talk numbers, so don’t run off. There’s a private lounge near the back if you’re interested.”
Tyra brushed Navie’s shoulder while Carter trailed behind.
“We’re getting the fuck out of here.”
“You need that check, Tre,” she reminded me.
“Tyra wants to fuck you and possibly me too while her horny ass husband gets off watching,” I shook my head, smirk twisting into a scowl. “I’m not with that weird shit. Fuck them and that check.”