Jahlil found himself enthralled, doing a media-safe Azul walk and hand movements. He danced and waved his towel in the air through Emani’s forty-five-minute set.
“OSU, thank you for having me. I love you! Be safe tonight!” She pranced off the stage, waving and handing her mic off to the sound man. The DJ continued to spin, ushering in the afterparty vibes before kickoff tomorrow.
“Whew,” Gino said, swiping the sweat from his brow. “I can see it.”
Jahlil fused his brows, his face still holding a proud grin. “See what?”
“Why Malik is trying to put that up. She’s big. Bigger than his program,” Gino stated. “I’m going to love watching that nigga spiral when you reclaim what’s yours. Get him up out of here.”
“Already on it,” Jahlil muttered, seeing the commotion at the far end of the stage. Emani had changed and was swarmed by fans for an impromptu meet and greet. Jahlil didn’t bother moving into view. This moment had nothing to do with him. It was all about her and he wouldn’t be another man trying to steal her spotlight.
While he waited, he got comfortable by Carson and sent the videos to Andrew and Aunt Violet.
“You saw how she looked you in your face and spit that shit?” Carson asked, making Jahlil grin wide all over again.
“Sure as shit did. You know how this is about to go.”
“I do. I told her I’m only giving her away once. Tomorrow is the last day to make something shake. Get on your job, nigga.”
With security, Derrick, and Donnée in tow, Emani roamed over to the group that awaited her. Before she reached Jahlil, she hugged Savanhi and Noble.
“Girl, you did so good! Talkin’ about you were nervous,” Savanhi gushed. “Those dance moves!”
“Oh please. I’m going to need your help next time,” Emani returned. “I’m serious, Noble give her a little break between babies so I can have her for a couple months.”
Noble laughed a boyish grin on his face. “I can’t promise that. I’m ‘bout to take her home right now.”
“See,” Emani laughed. “You play too much. Thank you for coming. I really appreciate you, Vanhi.”
The two hugged again, having only met a day ago and clicking the way they had, Jahlil stood back seeing their lives together play out. Play dates, married friends, a life full of love, joy and respect. For him, it was go time, it was convincing her that this was the right time to move forward.
She finally reached him, hands on her hips and her large eyes looking up at him. “So, any notes?”
Jahlil nipped his lip. “Nah. You looked me dead in my eyes and talked your shit. You know I like that.”
Emani smirked then quipped. “I know. Had to give you a show since this was your first one.”
“I’m not missing another one, believe that.”
19 /EMANI
“You killed that shit!”Derrick cheered the moment Emani floated off of the stage toward her trailer on the back side of the stage. “Did you hear that crowd?”
She heard it, felt it, and saw every face. But it was the pride on Jahlil’s that made her feel like she was soaring. Performances for the last six years, regardless of who she found herself with at the time never garnished that expression. There was always some critique waiting on her. Malik never liked her outfits or the dance moves. Or even the lyrics. He’d make sly comments like – when you’re my wife, you don’t have to do this anymore. As if doing this was something to be ashamed of. As if this was something she was doing to make ends meet – or some sick obsession with fame. This was Emani’s dream. The very thing she whispered to the stars for. The thing that saved her.
She couldn’t answer Derrick. Her spirit was full of emotion. Half regret for even letting the idea of all of this go to appease a man who was proving day in and day out that giving up a part – giving up her whole self for him wasn’t ever worth it.
“Baby, you are back. Now it’s up from here,” Derrick continued to cheer as she took the few steps into her trailer.
Emani found the chair and sat down and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Had she had her phone with her, she would have followed her instincts and ended it all right now. Instead, she cleared her mind of all the things that could ruin this feeling. Floating. She felt like she was floating.
“This feels…” Emani finally spoke, her voice hoarse from her live performance. Her mic was always on. She trained like an athlete to have breath control and a body strong enough to endure her schedule and soft enough to be envied by men and women alike. “So damn good.”
“Like that wet dream you had about big daddy?” Derrick questioned.
Emani cut him a look before laughing softly and removing the OSU black and blue letterman jacket she wore. “No. And stop calling him that.”
Derrick threw his hands up. “I’m just saying. He just oozes put you through the mattress and nail you to the floor.”
