Chapter Ten
Naz
“Where’s this new girlfriend of yours?” my agent Banner asks, nibbling on a piece of skewered grilled chicken.
“She’s not my girlfriend.” I take a long draw of the whiskey I’ve been nursing off and on ever since I left Takira’s cabin.
“Hmmmmph.” Banner settles into the overstuffed cushions of the couch built into the wall and lining the room. A massive, beautifully set table sparkling with crystal and silverware holds court at the center of the dining room. The first to arrive, Banner and I are grazing on gourmet appetizers and sipping from the insanely well-stocked cellar’s offerings. Jared had a last-minute call, but he should be joining us soon. In the meantime, I assume Banner will grill me.
“You know what I call you behind your back?” Banner asks, skirting up one dark brow.
“Won’t telling me defeat the purpose of it being behind my back?” I lean into the cushions beside her.
“I’ll find something else to keep from you.” Her pretty face lights with a secret smile. Tonight, her abundance of dark hair spills around her shoulders. “I call you Kenan 2.0.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should, but the reason I call you that is because, like Kenan, you’re disciplined, calculating, careful.”
“Sounds boring.”
“Until you’re not,” she says, wagging a finger. “On the rare occasion you do something completely out of character and unexpected, I like to know why. This girl you had Lotus invite—”
“Takira.”
“She’s unexpected. Takira Fletcher. Does makeup and hair for a living. Originally from Houston. Went to cosmetology school after graduating from high school. Lived in Atlanta briefly before relocating to New York. Recently moved with her best friend Neevah Saint to work on Canon Holt’s new biopic, Dessi Blue. Member of The Make-Up Artists and Hairstylist Guild since—”
“Banner,” I interrupt, my tone shaded with a small warning. “What do you want to know?”
“I’ve checked her Tinder profile.” Banner pulls out her phone. “LinkedIn. IMDb.”
“Banner.”
“She’s clean as a whistle on the things that matter. Criminal record. Credit score.”
“Jesus.” I take another sip of my drink. “Is that really necessary?”
“I take care of my guys.” The soft curve of Banner’s mouth levels out. “I’ve seen too many of my players get played. So new girl shows up out of nowhere, I dig. I do the due diligence sometimes men forget when they find a nice fresh piece of ass.”
“She’s not…” I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “It’s not like that.”
“She seems perfectly wonderful based on what I’ve learned.”
“She is.” I look up to meet her eyes. “I like her, Banner. And she’s not out of nowhere. I met her in high school.”
“I know that, too. I mean, I figured, since you played ball with her brother at St. Cat’s.” She laughs at the narrow-eyed look I use to search her face. “That wasn’t a hard connection to make.”
“Well then, you know we met when we were eighteen years old, so this is more getting reacquainted.”
“Just be careful.” She holds up a hand to stem the words poised on my lips. “I can take care of your career, your endorsements, your money, even your reputation to a degree. I can’t take care of your heart, though, and I don’t want to see you hurt.” She squeezes my hand, affection in her dark eyes. “Ever.”
I know how fortunate I am that Banner signed me straight out of college. She handles my business, but she cares.
“What’s this?” she asks, lifting some shrimp wrapped in dough from the hors d’oeuvres plate.
A group enters the dining room in a chorus of laughter and raised voices. I glance up to find Kenan, Lotus, Iris, August, and Jared approaching.
“Ban!” Jared walks over swiftly and snatches the shrimp from her fingers, drawing a startled yelp out of her. “You can’t have shellfish.”