Bryse
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 25TH
Ipulled into the parking lot of the twelve-story white brick building. There were several businesses housed in the building, including the fashion magazine that Kennedi worked for. They took up two floors in the middle of the building, the seventh and eighth floors.
I headed inside, smiled at the receptionist, who always tried to flirt with me, and headed for the bank of elevators. I was thankful that the receptionist was busy with other visitors today. She usually tried to stop me and chat. I was never rude with her, but her little fine ass knew that I had a woman, and she knew my woman worked here. Her ass didn’t give a damn though.
Kennedi’s little feisty butt had threatened to kick her ass on several occasions. She claimed she was just waiting to catch her outside of the building. It always made me laugh. Kennedi was a beautiful girl who most people underestimated. She was very brilliant, but oftentimes, people assumed that she had nothing to offer beyond her beauty.
Little did they know that she had been ratchet throughout her teens, fighting everywhere that she went. The same people who fought with her, and those she grew up around, would have been surprised to find that she was an all-A student throughout her academic career until college, when she became an AB honor roll student. That wasn’t something she bragged about, so only her parents knew.
When I got off on the eighth floor, I stopped at the reception desk.
“Hey, Bryse. Still getting murderers and dope dealers off?” Kesha Washington, the receptionist, asked, smirking.
“I am, Ms. Kesha. And you’d better thank God that I am, because if not, Dexter McHenry wouldn’t be out, and he wouldn’t have paid me to get your son off on his little dope boy charges, now would he?”
She rolled her eyes, shook her head, and replied snidely, “I hate you.”
I chuckled. “No, you don’t. You love me.
“You’re right. And I do appreciate you saving my son, but not the rest of the criminal element.”
“I’m sure the mothers of the rest of the criminal element feel the same way that you do.”
She giggled and twisted her lips. “Let me call and see if Kennedi is out of her meeting yet.”
“Thanks, Ms. Kesha.”
I took a seat as she dialed Kennedi’s office. After hanging up, she advised, “Go on back. She’s not out yet, but I’m certain that she will be soon. She was in a meeting with Carolyn, and I know that Carolyn has another meeting across town that she should be leaving for now.”
The moment that she said that, a tall black woman, dressed sharply in a navy blue and gold wrap dress and heels, came marching around the corner with an expensive handbag on herarm and AirPods in her ears. Carolyn Gaines, the editor-in-chief ofBlack Glamour Magazine, was speaking rapidly to someone on the other end of a call. She paused briefly, waved and smiled at me, and then waved goodbye to Kesha before she strode to the elevators.
“Thanks, Ms. Kesha.” I headed around the same corner that Carolyn had come from and walked halfway down the hall. I stopped at the third office on the right and tapped on the door.
Kennedi’s glass office allowed me to see that she was perched on the edge of her desk, speaking with someone. She wore a harried look, and her suit jacket was hung on the back of her chair. Kennedi’s favorite coffee mug, “I’m a Fool for Fashion,” perched haphazardly on the edge of the desk. I doubted if she noticed it.
I swept right into her office and grabbed the cup before she knocked it over.
“No, we needed them yesterday, and this delay is unacceptable. We paid for a rush job, and now you’re telling me that it will be another two days before we’re able to receive them. I don’t give a shit about a family emergency. Either send the proofs today, so that I can approve them, or we will be hiring another photographer and suing you for breach of contract!”
I was glad that I was not the person on the other end of that call. I had seen Kennedi in war mode for her job before, and I always felt sorry for the recipients. She hadn’t previously been this way at home. When it was just the two of us, she was sweet, humble, compassionate, and caring. Although lately, she had begun showing more of the aggressive nature at home that she displayed in her office. I didn’t like it one bit.
Case in point, she looked up at me, frowned, and held up one finger. I took a seat in the chair opposite her desk.
I looked around her office at the photos that hung on the wall of Kennedi with various fashion designers and other celebritiesin the fashion industry. She had worked damned hard for her career, but I wished she would work as hard for our relationship. I had been convinced that I wanted to marry this woman until the last few months.
I wasn’t certain that our relationship could survive. I pulled up the email on my phone and checked the status on a couple of cases my paralegal had sent me updates on. I reviewed some motions that were sitting in my inbox, and I finally put the phone down.
I lifted it again to check the time, and I saw that twelve minutes had passed. As I listened to Kennedi’s call, I realized that in the time I’d been waiting, she had already made another call without even acknowledging me.
I stood from the chair and headed for the door. She pressed her hand over the receiver and frowned impatiently at me. “Hold on. It’ll be just another second,” she promised with an irritation in her tone, as if I had been the one keeping her holding.
I took my seat again and waited until ten minutes later, when she finally ended the call.
“Hey, sorry about that. We’ve got this big campaign we’re supposed to be rolling out, but we don’t have the prints back yet. The digital team hadn’t heard from the photographer, and they were pressuring me. The beauty team is in collaboration with our team on this project, so you know how Lupita can be when she’s under a deadline. Everyone’s coming at me as if I have the answers, and this is all really ridiculous. Ohhh, God.” Kennedi smacked her forehead dramatically as she groaned.
“Not a good time?” I managed to squeeze in.
