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“I miss you too. I’m gonna fly out to your next game, I promise. I had too much work to do today. I have back-to-back meetings until 5:30.”

“Let me know, and I can take care of your flight and transportation from the airport. Soon as you touch down, I’m on ya body, baby,” he said, making my stomach flip.

“What time do you have to be at warm-ups? Ima send you something on my lunch break.” I licked my lips and leaned back in my seat.

“Mannn, when you get here, Ima fold you the fuck up. You playin’, and you know I can’t get to you. My dick hard right now. I need you to come put this mufucka down.”

I giggled, listening to him tell me all the nasty shit he wanted to do to me when he got his hands on me. Emery had my head in the fuckin’ clouds. I was on some fuck niggas, get money shit until he really started applying pressure. When I finally let my guard down, he was right there. Em was different from other men I’ve dated. He never acted like softness with me made him less of a man, and when I needed space, he gave it without me having to ask twice. He let me move at my own pace.

When I looked at the time, we had already been on the phone for thirty minutes, and I had to start getting ready for my first meeting.

“Baby, I gotta get ready for this 10:30 meeting. Call me when you’re free later.”

“Yeah, Ima call. Don’t forget my video. I got something comin’ to your office. I love you.”

I blushed, thinking about the freaky shit I was going to send him later. “I love you, too. I’ll keep my phone close, and thank you.”

“Aight, baby.”

Emery never said, “Bye” when we hung up, and he hated when I said it, too. He said “Bye” was too final, and he wasn’t going nowhere. I sat in my chair, twirling around, daydreaming about the next time I would see him. As much as I missed him, I had work to do. Before I could start setting up for my meeting, someone tapped on my door.

“Come in,” I called.

Jela stepped inside with a gift bag and a big ass arrangement of wildflowers. Roses and shit were cool, but Emery knew what I liked. Jela set them on my desk, smiling.

“They are so pretty, and they smell amazing,” she said.

“They are so pretty,” I muttered, fishing out the note card.

You’re always on my mind, baby. I’ll see you soon. I love you.

-Em

I knew I looked crazy sitting there, grinning at the note card. But I couldn’t help it. He always did shit like this. I appreciated expensive gifts like bags and shoes. Em paid attention, though. Truthfully, I almost forgot about the gift bag until my phone started buzzing beside it with a news-break notification.

Press conference for JuMarion Ross. Blackhawks secure shortstop.

“This nigga is all over the place,” I said to myself, digging through the gift bag.

I pulled out a jewelry box, then cracked it open. It was earrings with my birthstone, amethyst. This was more than thoughtful; it was personal. I sat there, wondering how I went from not wanting a man at all to getting one who did shit like this? Emery checked every damn box. He was fine as hell, paid, fucked good, thoughtful, caring, and he let me be myself. Most men would try to cage me, not knowing that was the easiest way to lose me. Not Em. I had all the love and security I needed with him.

“Okay, Savannah. Head out of the clouds and back to work.”

The faster I got through these meetings, the better. Today, I was meeting my sister, Shaina, for happy hour at Nue Sun. They had some of the best sushi I’d ever had in my life, and after the busy day I had lined up, a few shots and some sushi would be exactly what I needed.

I knew Nue Sun would be packed, so I took an Uber and left my car parked at the office. When the Uber pulled to the curb, I hopped out and went straight for the door. Inside, it was loud with people talking, but the vibe was so chill it didn’t bother me. The only time I wanted shit turned up was at the club.

I spotted my sister sitting at a table, typing on her phone fast as hell. It was probably my niece, Jiovanni. She was sixteen, mouthy as hell, and thought she knew everything. I told Shaina to give me fifteen minutes with her ass, and she’d come back with some sense.

Shaina finally looked up and smiled real big and cheesy, like whatever was bothering her before didn’t mean shit once she saw me.

“Sav!” she squealed, jumping up from her seat.

I walked right into her arms and hugged her tight. Shaina was my oldest sister. She was thirty-six, owned a children’s boutique, Honey & Harlow, and some investment properties. She was married with four kids. We Mercer girls were all entrepreneurs. My middle sister, Selene, was thirty-three and owned five beauty supply stores and five Airbnb properties throughout the DMV. She had three kids, all girls, and let her tell it, she and her husband were getting divorced. I knew she was lying. She knew she was lying. Shit, the whole family knew, so we minded our business.

You could call us a lot of things, but broke wasn’t one of them. I sat across from Shaina, happy our schedule finally let us see each other outside of Sundays with our parents.

“Sooo, baby sister. What’s going on with you? You glowing and looking good! Let me find out Emery still acting right.” She smirked, folding her arms across her chest.