Chapter Eleven
Takira
My head is buzzing, and I haven’t even had a drop of liquor. My brain is overloaded with names and connections and relationships. When Lotus invited me on this trip, she said it would be a few close friends, which is technically true. There are just so many powerful personalities in one room. Rarely do I feel intimidated. I move in some rarefied circles from time to time in my line of work and rub up against entertainment industry elite, but everyone here is at the top of their game somehow.
Banner and Jared, a power couple, two elite sports agents.
Kenan and Lotus, obviously. Her, one of the buzziest names in fashion; him, a basketball legend, guaranteed first-round Hall of Famer with business enterprises all over the world.
August and Iris. Him, a franchise player, one of the best in the League right now. Apparently Iris is becoming a force in her own right, handling huge accounts with their sports agency, Elevation.
Adding to the bad-assery, Lotus’s close friends and business partners Billie and Yari are here with their boyfriends. Kenan’s sister Kenya, a WNBA player, is here with her new wife, Jade, who apparently is a songwriter and producer and cousin to Grip, one of the greatest lyricists of our generation.
So, yeah. It’s a lot. They’re a lot.
The food was fantastic. The conversation—stimulating, intelligent, hilarious. The best time I’ve had over a meal in…maybe ever. Naz’s friends are incredible, and it’s obvious he cares about them as much as they care about him. They were accepting and kind, though extremely curious. I wouldn’t get this many questions on Jeopardy.
“I need a drink,” I tell Naz, glancing around the emptying dining room.
“Then let’s get you one.” He walks us over to the bar, and I ask the bartender to surprise me. I don’t particularly care what I drink right now, as long as it takes this edge off.
“Didn’t want to drink much during dinner,” I tell Naz. “I had to keep a clear head for the inquisition.”
“Ugh.” He groans but grins. “My friends are nosy.”
“They probably just want to make sure I’m not a ball bunny, or whatever you guys call those women who wait in the tunnel offering you ass after games.” I nudge him with my shoulder while the bartender prepares my drink.
“Ball bunnies?” He lifts both brows.
“Oh, please. A man fine as you? I’m sure you get your share.”
“You think I’m attractive?”
I tip up to whisper in his ear, “Would my panties be in your pocket if I didn’t?”
“Here you go,” the bartender says, offering me an amber-colored drink before Naz has the chance to respond with anything other than a heated stare.
“This is delicious,” I say after a sip. “What is it?”
“It’s a Genoa.” He offers Naz one, too. “Mediterranean drink in honor of our journey. Gin, grappa, sambuca, dry vermouth with an olive. Glad you like it.”
“You guys keeping all the good liquor to yourselves?” Kenya asks, rising from the dining room table.
She looks like a softer version of Kenan, tall and lean with locs hanging past her shoulders. She and Jade are newlyweds and have been stuck to each other’s sides all night. It’s sweet how they’re even now holding hands…with twined fingers!
“You’ve had enough,” Jade mumbles as they cross the room to us. “You know how your ass gets.”
“Once! You cry once after a bottle of tequila,” Kenya laughs. “And your wife never lets you live it down.”
“Nah.” Jade runs a hand over her neat cornrows. “It’s also that jet lag I’m worried about. Gin and jet lag—not a good look for you.”
“What we need is some fresh air,” Kenya says. “It’ll clear my head. Everybody’s up on deck. You guys coming?”
The look Naz rolls over me is molten, and even my fast tail feels self-conscious under it.
“I think they want to be alone,” Kenya says, her voice sing-song and teasing.
“No, we’ll come,” I say, quirking one brow in challenge. He thought he could edge me? See how he likes being put on hold.