“Because your man and your pretend man told me not to say anything to you until it was handled,” Donnée shared.
“Well?” Emani and Derrick asked in tandem.
“It’s handled. Malik is laid up in the hospital for some gambling debt, Janet is refusing to speak, matter of fact, she retracted her statement. Joanna and Sandi both have NDA’s and can’t say shit anyway, you’re welcome for that. The judge felt like Malik’s gambling beat down took the cake. But…”
“But…” Emani parroted.
“His words were ‘tell your client if this happens again, she’s going to jail’ and then he asked for an early release of your next album. What can I say, he’s a fan.”
Emani sighed, letting the final weight fall off of her shoulders. “Thank you, Donnée.”
Donnée hugged her warmly and let Emani release the final tears. “Girl, don’t thank me for loving you. We are all we got. But the big thanks goes to your man. He hired the other attorney and told him what wasn’t going to happen.”
Derrick squealed and clapped his hands. “That man said he ain’t losing his girl again. I know that’s right. Yes, big daddy Jahlil. Give him a baby.”
“You wanted me to give Malik a baby too. I’m not following your judgement,” Emani sassed.
“Oh girl, I was clowning. You weren’t even letting that man break you in half. I ain’t never heard of no weak dick nigga making babies with a bad bitch. Must be your uterus or something. Doesn’t accept weak sperm.”
“That man never hit me raw. Never. And some men just can’t do it.”
“But Big Daddy Jahlil can. I’ve seen your walk, he’s putting you through the mattress and you deserve that shit. You deserve all this shit. To be soft and held like you’re a rose. It’s more than your name. It’s who you are and it’s time to enter your soft girl era,” Derrick spoke. “Starting with this hair. Hard wig soft life?”
“I don’t know why you would want to waste your time like that,” Donnée spoke, laughing as she traipsed across the room to finish putting Emani’s things on the hangers. “Jahlil was slinging those wigs everywhere all week.”
“Let’s just blow it out. There’s a game tomorrow night, I want to have something different,” Emani suggested. “Something that doesn’t look like my mugshot.”
“Can we put the mugshot on an album or shirt at least? That shit was fire. Full beat, hair up, that smirk on your face. You ate that up,” Derrick whooped.
“That’s her first one, might as well capitalize off of it,” Donnée quipped.
“Can I even make music or is the label keeping my voice too?” Emani asked over her shoulder.
“Your voice and your name you can keep. I say put out a cute little EP popping your shit and let the chips fall where they may,” Donnée stated, roaming into the closet. “You got your equipment here, the kids are in school all day. Jahlil is about to be in the swing of the season, this is the perfect time for you to jump back in that raw and unfiltered bag without the label telling you what to record. It’s your savage season, baby.”
Derrick hummed in agreement. “You didn’t go to homecoming for nothing. You needed to be reminded of who you were. Put everything into that EP and show that label and the world you don’t need nothing but yourself, E.”
After hours of blowing her hair out, making her up and getting dressed, Emani was shotgun in Jahlil’s Lambo with the top back blowing her layered silk press, headed toward Mara Blu. An Italian restaurant they used to dream about dining at. When he stopped at the valet, Emani chuckled to herself and watched Jahlil step out and round the hood to retrieve her.
Hand in hand, they strolled into the restaurant and were seated on the patio.
“Remember when we dreamt about being able to afford a glass of water here?” Jahlil mused, lacing his fingers in hers.
Emani smiled. “Yeah and you’d attempt to make bruschetta but it just turned into grill cheese and tap water.”
“I tried though,” Jahlil said with a smile. “You had me hooked on that smile. Still do.”
“I have a lot to smile about today.”
“Oh yeah?” Jahlil buzzed like he didn’t know where the source of her peace had come from.
“Oh yeah. You hired a lawyer for me?” Emani quizzed.
Jahlil nodded. “Sure as hell did. I need you with me. Need that shit like air.”
“The charges are dropped. Apparently, Malik being beat up by whoever he “owed” is more pressing,” Emani replied. “And for that, I smile. I’m trying to figure out how to thank you for that.”
“Rose,” he rumbled her name after kissing the crook of her neck. “You never need to thank me. Ever. You win. You love my kids. You love me. There’s nothing else I need.”
