“Great. You both have excellent taste. These are some of my favorites.”
“Thanks. We don’t have to wear uniforms at our school, so this is perfect for our jeans and stuff. And like my mama always says, you can’t beat a good sale.” The shorter girl snapped her fingers. “I’m Ashley.”
“And I’m Jasmine.” The other chimed in, sticking her hand out.
Nivéa laughed and shook it. “I hear that. Mama taught you well.” She nodded in approval as she rang them up. “I’m Nivéa. How old are you both?”
“17,” they answered simultaneously again.
“Well, technically I’m 16, but my birthday is next month, so...” Ashley corrected.
“Okay. Well, tell your mama to bring you by again if you’re thinking about throwing a birthday party. I do custom shirts, too.”
“Okay, cool,” Ashley smiled, taking a business card and stuffing it inside the pocket of her hoodie.
Once the transaction was complete and they headed out the door, Nivéa exhaled and leaned back against the counter, lettingthe song’s lyrics wash over her. She took a moment to check her phone, missing her man like crazy. She wondered if he had texted or called, but to her dismay, he hadn’t. She hadn't heard from Crown since early that morning, before they both headed into work. If it were up to her, she’d text him every hour on the hour.
Nivéa was clingy, but she was trying to be reasonable, knowing Crown’s life wasn’t simple. His schedule was unpredictable, and she respected that. Still, she scrolled to his name and sent a message anyway.
Heyyy, it’s 1:20, sir.
She kept it short and playful, enough to convey her feelings without being too direct. Shortly after hitting send, she slipped her iPhone back into her pocket and glanced up at her guard.
“Hey, Mike. You can take your break since things have slowed down.”
“Alright, will do, boss lady.” Mike replied, heading to the back where she’d created a cozy break room for him and the other officer.
Crown hadn’t lied. Once she opened her doors again, he hired a security firm, and two-armed guards were now securing her shop on rotating shifts. Mike worked the day shift while Joe watched the building overnight. Both men had military backgrounds. Plus, all four Knights’ prospects took turns passing through throughout the day. Nivéa loved this setup; it made her feel safe, especially after the incident with Boe.
After wiping down her counter, Nivéa headed to her workstation, where Caresha sat perched on a stool.
“Was that a big order I heard?” She asked, tossing some popcorn in her mouth.
“Yes, ma’am. A dance team with a coach who knows what she wants and parents who pay on time. My favorite kind of people.” Nivéa said, tying her apron.
Caresha laughed. “Aye, I know that’s right. Make that money, sis.”
Nivéa picked up one of the tees she’d been working on and smoothed it out on the table. The new collection was laid out around her. They were simple graphics with soft colors that conveyed everything she felt. She held one up.
Still Standing.
Another read in elegant cursive,
Soft Doesn’t Mean Weak.
Then there was,
My healing is personal, intentional.
Each design featured a portrait of a beautiful Black woman, posed differently to bring the message to life. Though the expressions, stances, hairstyles, and skin tones varied, the consistent color palette tied the collection together. She’d taken her time with this idea, and Crown had executed the sketches perfectly for her. Her short time spent locked away at his place and not being able to work in her shop hadn’t been wasted after all. She’d brought back some fire with her.
“I really love this collection, sis.” Caresha said, leaning in to study the shirts again. “And you know I always love what you drop, but this? This feels different. It’s the vibe for me. You and Crown did y’all thing.”
Nivéa nodded. “Thank you, girl. I love it too. It reflects how I’m feeling these days after everything I’ve been through.”
Caresha’s gaze shifted from the shirts to her best friend, a proud smile spreading across her face.
“You glowing, hoe. And Ny’s got those breasts sittin’ right. Dangggg, maybe it’s time for ya girl to find a good man and push out a kid.” She joked, looking down at her small breasts and jiggling them with her hands before rolling her eyes. “Chile, pathetic.”
