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“I don’t remember.”
“You remember seeing him but don’t know with who.”
“Averie, I own a bar. I see hundreds of people a week. We standing here like you’re asking me did I kill your baby daddy? All I said was I knew him. What happened to that nigga had nothing to do with me. You make sure you have a good rest of your day.” He started walking off.
“Okay.”
“And Averie,” he stopped. “Don’t be suspicious of every person who says Rah’s name. That man touched a lot of lives.”
CHAPTER 18
KYENNA
The King Foundation gala was one event nobody in the family was allowed to miss. It didn’t matter what was going on in the streets, who wasn’t speaking to who, or what business needed attention. Every year, the Kings cleaned themselves up, put on expensive clothes, smiled for the cameras, and raised money for the same neighborhoods that had helped build the family name. We wrote checks for scholarships, youth sports, housing assistance, grants and funeral expenses. Rah used to joke that Pops spent half his life putting poison into the city and the other half trying to make peace with God by giving the money back.
This year was different. Rah’s name was printed across damn near everything. Seeing it on the program when I stepped inside almost made me turn around and go home. I stood near the entrance longer than I should have, staring at the gold lettering across the thick black cardstock. For months, I had gotten used to seeing his name on documents. Somehow seeing memorial beside his name felt worse.
“You plan on standing in the damn door all night?” Jaharee asked.
“Shut up,” I joked.
She hugged me before pulling back and taking in my dress.
“Okay, bitch,” Jaharee said.
“You like it?” I spun around.
“You did that. I should’ve known you were going to step out tonight with something never seen before.”
I smiled and ran my hands over the fitted black gown. It was simple from the front, but the back was dipped low and laced with diamonds. My hair fell in loose waves down my back, and the diamond earrings Rah bought me for our fifth anniversary were the only jewelry I wore besides my wedding ring.
“You look good, too.”
“Oh, bitch, I know.” Jaharee stuck her tongue out.
“I hate complimenting your ass.” I laughed before looping her arm into mine.
“Come on. Mama already asking where you at.”
“I just got here.”
“She don’t care. You know Lorraine runs events like a drill sergeant.”
“She’s literally been calling me since noon, Jaharee.”
“Oh, I believe you. She’s been doing the same with me and we live in the same house.”
We walked farther into the ballroom, and for a few minutes I forgot about the program in my hand. The room was beautiful. The tables were covered in black silk tablecloths, with gold centerpieces with white roses. The screens on the wall played old photographs from foundation events over the years.
“You good?”
“I’m fine.”
“Let’s get a drink before Mama finds us and puts us to work.”
“That’s the best thing you’ve said all day.”
By the time we made it to the bar, I had been stopped at least six times. Everybody wanted to hug me, compliment my continued success at Royal Flush, or give me the damn sympathetic look people still hadn't learned I hated. I smiled anyway. That was part of tonight. The foundation wasn’t about grief. I had already taken down one glass of champagne and was ready for another one.
