“Don’t get me wrong, it’s pretty, it’s just not what I want to wear to a dinner with his family,” I explained, and she nodded.
“I forgot you were going to be around church folks,” she giggled, shaking her head. “What are they like?”
“You’ve been around them before,” I replied as I moved to the next rack. I looked over my shoulder to see Consonance’s eyes locked on the man at the front of the store. He was watching her as hard as she was watching him. His dark eyes swept over herwith so much intensity that goose bumps rose on my skin, and I had to rub my arm. “Consonance?”
“Yeah?” she slowly replied as she turned her attention back to me.
“You know him?” I questioned.
“Yeah, that’s Gentle,” she answered with a quick nod. “He races.”
I turned back to him and took my time looking him over. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t say precisely where I had seen him before; however, I knew it wasn’t at a race. He was tall, with bronze skin, full lips, and a broad nose. What caught my attention was his blue eyes. They looked so out of place against his skin, but at the same time, they blended perfectly. His hair was curly and short, and he wore a gold necklace.
“He’s here to see you?” I asked.
“No,” she laughed and shook her head.
The sound of heels clicking against the concrete floors echoed through the small room, and I turned to see the owner of the boutique coming from the back. When she noticed Gentle, she stopped walking, and a look of fear flashed across her face before it went blank. She squared her shoulders, adjusted the sleeves of her shirt, and approached Gentle.
“What are you doing here?” she asked with a thick southern accent. “We had an agreement.”
“I come in peace,” Gentle said, holding his hands in the air. His accent was just as thick as hers, but his voice had a playful tone.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s not the agreement. You aren’t supposed to come around. We are holding up our end.”
“Shit is about to change,” he replied as he dropped his hands. “I need your help.”
“No,” she replied. “I can’t help you.”
“Mahogany-”
“No, Gentle,” she cut him off. “Now leave before-”
He took a step toward her and grabbed her arm. The front door opened, and another tall man walked in with a mug on his face. He was fine, with his dark skin, short hair, full lips, and thug appeal. I knew he was a rapper named Focus. He looked at the woman, then at the man, and I swear I could see the anger rolling off his body. He licked his lips, then stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“One, we need to talk,” he said. His voice was deep, with a hint of rage. He looked at the man next to her and then chuckled, shaking his head. “Hands off, my nigga.”
“Tobias,” she sighed. “Not right now.”
“Always right now, One,” he replied, then turned to the man. “Make it happen before I forget I’m supposed to be going on tour and end up doing time.”
Gentle laughed and turned his attention to the woman. “This is who everyone is afraid of?” he questioned. “Tell your pet that this isn’t the danger that he wants.”
“Oh, word?” Focus questioned and pulled his pants up to his waist.
“Tobias, please don’t,” Mahogany said, shaking her head. She approached Focus and put her hands on his chest to stop him from moving. “You cannot do this in here.”
“Oh fuck,” I heard Consonance say from beside me. I was so caught up in their exchange that I didn’t realize she’d moved to stand next to me. “If Focus is here, then that means Exodus isn’t too far behind.”
“Who’s Exodus?” I asked. “Her man?”
“No,” Consonance laughed. “He’s Mahogany’s best friend.”
“So, she’s with Focus?”
“Nope,” Consonance denied. “They are friends, or enemies, shit, I don’t know what they are.”
“They definitely aren’t enemies,” I said, turning my attention back to Mahogany and Focus. The energy between them was obviously love and passion. From the way they looked at each other to the way they naturally gravitated toward each other.
