Crossing one arm over my chest, I checked the complaint. Incompetence. Lack of vision. Poor attention to detail. Poor communication skills. I huffed. Not once had I heard anything like that about Shar. Crescent was full of shit. There was more in the complaint. Something about disorganization. I just clicked off the app and immediately went over to my phone app to give Shar a call. She answered almost immediately, and we scheduled a time to sit down tomorrow morning. I had to see her first, before meeting with dumb ass.
The next morning,I woke up the same way I woke up the morning before, and the one before that one—sad as hell, to a damp pillow. I cried myself to sleep last night. At night, when the kids slept and my world was at ease were the only times, I wasable to really feel what I felt. Which were a ton of things I didn’t have the mental capacity to ruminate over.
It was day four.
Day four with him out of the house.
Day four with me having to figure out how I was going to maneuver around what happened. Well, I knew what I was going to do. Just didn’t know what I would do about the kids. Last night, before bedtime, Gabe came in and asked me if I was okay. He asked about Duke too.
With a deep breath, I got up and looked at my phone. Had a ton of missed text messages from Duke. Sending shit back-to-back to back-to-back. About love. About forgiveness. About mistakes. He sent long ass paragraphs about Diary and how her mother was dead and about how he found out. He explained it all. Went into great detail. Talked about feelings and responsibilities and family, and a bunch of shit I didn’t care to read about. I didn’t give a fuck. Didn’t give a fuck about none of it. He was wasting his time because my mind was made up. So, what he hadn’t been living a double life? The fact was he had a baby on me and that was enough.
After getting up, I got the kids together and had them grab something quick from the freezer to eat. The morning was slow and quiet. There wasn’t any arguing, no push back, no confusion… nothing. Not even a bit of laughter. The climate in the house was already changing. Once they were situated, I got myself together and dropped them off.
Today, nobody asked when dad would be coming home.
Once the house was empty, I had a quick Teams meeting with Shar. It went how I expected it to go. With her being confused but admitting to being intimidated. She didn’t want to work with Crescent neither. Especially not after he complained about her. I told her I would see what I could do. I really didn’t want to transfer her off, but because the work relationship was strained,I didn’t see any other way around it. Once I got off with her, I had Tami schedule an emergency meeting with Skylight Industries, hoping to see him today. Without a plan. Without a script. I didn’t need one. I knew how I was going to handle Crescent Carter.
A couple of hours later the meeting was confirmed and, I was dressed in a form fitting knee length navy dress, a cream blazer and nude-colored pumps, walking through the towering black doors of Skylight Industries. Because I was in no mood to install a wig, I pulled my real hair back into a low bun and threw a couple of squiggly baby hairs in the front.
“Good morning, welcome to Skylight Industries. What can I do for you?” Greeted the receptionist with a bright smile.
Skylight Industries was nothing like Couture. It was huge, tripling n size. From where I stood, I could see that there were three levels and on each level there were people hustling about. The sound of talking, heels clinking and laughter drowned out the sound of soft elevator music. The décor was, as expected, very Crescent coded. Dark. In shades of black, gray and silver. There was a ton of marble. On the walls, on the floor, on the counters. Skylight Industries was lavish, with very high glass ceilings, letting in a ton of natural lighting. It was…immaculate.
“Mahogany Mills…Morris,” I hesitated to say. “Here to see Crescent Carter. I have a meeting with him scheduled for eleven.”
I didn’t speak with him directly. Refused to. Not until we were face-to-face. I had my business hat strapped on very tight. Later was that smitten shit. Crescent had to not only see me but feel me too. And definitely not in the way I knew he wanted to. I’d yet to show him just how serious I took business and Couture’s reputation. I was a boss in every sense of the word. My actions lately might not have reflected that, but it was true. I didn’t get the reputation of top decorator in the region justbecause I knew about color schemes, and where to put what. I got it because I was exceptional at handling business, too.
The receptionist typed around on her computer and after a couple of seconds said, “Ah, you’re listed as Mahogany Mills. Must be a clerical error. I can?—”
“It’s fine,” I said through a soft smile. “You can… you can leave it.”
Of course I was entered as Ms. Mahogany Mills. That was veryCrescentyof him.I didn’t get annoyed by it. Because hello… I was getting a divorce.
“Alrighty,” said the receptionist after ending her call. “Mr. Carter will see you now. Alvin will escort you right up.”
I’d been so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice the young man wearing a tailored suit, walk up. He was poised, with his arms crossed at the wrists, wearing a smile. Mr. Carter was fancy; Skylight Industries had its own concierge team.
“Good morning, Ms. Mills, I’m Alvin. I’ll be here to help for the duration of your visit,” he extended his hand and I shook it.
Well. Okay then. Maybe I should’ve taken notes. And to think, all I had at Couture was a lounge. I needed something like this. It would indeed put Couture on a whole different level.
“Good morning, Alvin. Thank you,” I said with a soft smile.
We turned to head to the elevator and that’s when I saw him.
He saw me too.
Judah fucking Wolfe. And he was wearing his infamous smile. I swallowed, thinking about the last time I saw him and wanted to turn around and leave. I was embarrassed.Thiswas embarrassing. All of it. Prancing around in high heels, with my shoulders pulled back, as Mahogany Mills-Morris, interior design mogul. While he knew me as Mocha, the freaky bitch who just handled three niggas the other night before running out.
Now look.
He was seeing me in this light, pretending to be a wholesome woman. He knew me as a wife now. And he saw me at Pandora’s the other night. I was… I felt small.
“Mahogany,” Judah spoke. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Mr. Wolfe,” I spoke back.
There was this glint in his eyes that told me he liked that. Liked this. A little too much for comfort. It was probably the Mr. Wolfe that got him. I made a mental note to never call him that again.
