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“What, Meek?”
“You been watchin’ that phone ring all damn mornin’ and now you finally decide to answer. Before you start wit’ the bullshit, I’m not callin’ to argue wit’ you. I need to kno’ where yo’ head at after last night, because you were damn near havin’ a nervous breakdown when I left.”
“I was not having a nervous breakdown. I was processing the fact that I had my husband’s brother’s face between my legs less than a year after burying him. I think I’m allowed to be a little fucked up about that without you calling it a nervous breakdown.”
“You makin’ it seem like I snuck in that bitch and forced you. I’m tryin’ to stop you from rewriting the shit because you woke up scared this mornin’.”
“I know exactly what happened, and that’s why I need some space from you. You walked out of here feeling good about what happened. Congratulations, but I didn’t. I woke up looking at Rah’s picture feeling like the worst woman in the world. So, forgive me if I don’t want to sit on the phone with you reminiscing about it.”
Shameek was quiet for a few seconds before he answered.
“I ain’t ask you once to reminisce. And I damn sure ain’t tellin’ you how to grieve my brother. What I’m sayin’ is don’t put all this guilt on yourself like you did something to Rah by feelin’ somethin’ after he died. You loved that nigga. Everybody in this family knows that. I kno’ better than most because I watched the shit. But you’re still here. That’s the fuckin’ part you keep actin’ like you supposed to apologize for.”
I stopped in my tracks because he was speaking fact.
“You don’t think I understand whose house I was in last night? I just don’t feel the same guilt you got ‘cause I ain’t lookin’ at it like we did somethin’ to Rah. My brother ain’t here, Kyenna. I wish like hell he was, but the nigga ain’t. Me feelin’ somethin’ for you didn’t put him in that grave.”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Aight. But one thing I’m not lettin’ you do is hide from me. We grown as fuck. If you decide what happened can never happen again, tell me that when you actually mean the shit. Don’t wake up panickin’ and make the decision for the both of us.”
“Shameek, I need time.”
“I’m givin’ you that.”
I sighed and leaned back in my chair.
“And stop calling my security, telling them what I can and cannot do. Last night you threatened him with a gun for doing his damn job. You cannot be the reason I have security and the reason I need it.”
“I wasn’t gonna shoot that nigga, man.”
“You’re missing the point.”
“I hear you. I was trippin’.”
“Thank you.”
“Aight, go handle yo’ day. I got business anyway.”
“Okay.”
“And Ky.” He stopped me from hanging up.
I closed my eyes. “What now?”
“I meant what I told you last night. I ain’t sorry.”
Before I could answer, he hung up.
“This nigga.”
By noon, I was sitting behind my desk at Royal Flush pretending I had something important to do. There was absolutely no reason for me to be here. My managers had already handled the morning numbers, and everything else was done as well. The weekend schedule had been finalized two days ago. Because I hired competent people. I didn’t have to sit behind this desk seven days a week. I had only come because I needed somewhere to put my mind, and there wasn’t enough work today to occupy it. I picked up my phone and saw a message from Lloyd.
Lloyd: I enjoyed your company last night. I hope you got home without any trouble.
Lloyd represented everything that should’ve made sense. He was educated, established, mature, and respectful. There were no secrets when it came to how he made his money. I could introduce him to anybody without explaining anything. He never made me feel uncomfortable. Shameek had damn near dragged me into a private room because Lloyd was dancing with me. One man was peaceful and the other one had chaos attached to him. And my dumb ass was thinking about the chaotic one.
Me: I did. Thank you and I enjoyed myself too.
