“’Cause we trust y’all,” Slick finished. “We know if Sterling and Eloise were standing right here, they’d look at what you’vedone and say, ‘That’s exactly what we hoped for. Something bigger, better, smarter, andsafer.’”
Slick lifted his glass higher. “We lost a king and a queen, but looking at y’all, we didn’t lose the kingdom. You kept it alive. You’re making it evolve. That’s why me and Ace can walk away from the frontline with clear hearts.”
Ace raised his glass too. “To Sterling and Eloise, the ones who started it. And to y’all, the ones who gon’ carry it farther than they even dreamed.”
Slick looked each of us in the eye. “Continue to honor the name and grow it. Make sure when people say ‘Cartier’ ten, twenty years from now, they’re not just thinking about guns and bricks, they’re also thinking about everything you built on top of that foundation.” Then he smiled. “And let two old niggas finally get off the clock.”
Legend’s jaw clenched with reluctance, but he nodded with respect. I could see the reservation in Icon’s eyes as he watched Slick and Ace. Saint looked off to the side, like he needed a second to take in the fact that Slick and Ace were truly stepping back.
For me, it was confirmation. The lot we’d walked earlier wasn’t just a project. It was the bridge between their era and ours.
“That’s enough business for one night,” Slick said with a smile as Zahra slipped into the circle. She wore a short dress, heels, and an expression that said she didn’t care about what she’d just interrupted.
She hooked her arm through Saint’s. “I came to dance with my man,” she told Slick and Ace with a smile. “You old men can talk shit later.”
Slick laughed. “Take him, baby.”
Saint tried to hold on to his serious face for half a second, then gave in, grinning at his wife. “We not done talking,” he told Slick.
“Party first,” Zahra said, already pulling him away.
He let her lead him to the area they’d cleared for dancing. The deejay switched into something slower, then blended in a track with a harder beat. Zahra and Saint floated into the middle of it, looking like they were in their own world.
“I need to check on Aria,” Legend said, setting his glass down. “She trying to thug it out, but she’s exhausted. You know she wasn’t missing y’all party, though.” He squeezed Slick’s shoulder, nodded at Ace, and walked off through the crowd, already scanning it for his wife. I watched him weave through people, then immediately turned gentle as soon as he reached Aria where she sat with Tempo and Livia.
The longing hit me. These men were dangerous, respected, and feared. But in their homes, with their women and kids, they were like putty. They were kinder, gentler, and obsessed with devoting themselves to their families. I loved them like brothers and partners, but I admired the hell out of them as husbands. I wanted what they had. I wanted the softness, ease, and certainty.
Icon stood beside me, watching Livia laugh with somebody by the bar. Big A’s eyes kept drifting toward Tempo every few seconds, like he couldn’t help it.
I wasn’t mad at Big A. People would’ve expected that because he was the man Tempo left me for. It stung when it happened, of course. It broke something in me that I hadn’t been able to put back together since. I used to think I knew how to read people. But Tempo proved I wasn’t the judge of character I thought I was, and once that doubt got in, it didn’t leave. So, my heart wasn’t open anymore. Because wanting it was one thing but believing I could trust myself to pick the right woman was another. And I didn’t trust myself at all.
I took a slow look around the foyer. Most of the women in the room were off limits for obvious reasons. There was Livia, Aria, Zahra, Tempo, and other wives of Cartier members. Some women were just too old for me. Others were too young. There were a few single women mixed in—a cousin’s friend, a vendor Chef Eddie brought, a cousin of security—but none of them stole my attention.
I didn’t want to shit where I ate either.
My gaze landed on Ava by the stairs, talking to one of Aria’s nannies. She wore a simple dress, with her hair pulled back, face bare except for a little gloss. She laughed at something the nanny said. There was always something soft about her, even after everything she’d been through. And there was strength there too, under the softness.
She had become a real friend. She was beautiful. Any man with eyes could see that.
And, still, I knew better. She was damn near a sister to Tempo. Tempo and Big A’s situation had started in secret and toxicity, and I had no interest in repeating that kind of shit, just because my dick was hard.
So, I watched Ava laugh, appreciated her from a distance, and let that be just that.
AVA REYNOLDS
The ride back to Sincere’s place was quiet because we were both tired and tipsy. My feet hurt in my heels. But I was scared to take them off because I knew my feet would swell if I did, and I wouldn’t be able to put them back on when I got out of the car.
Outside, snow fell in soft sheets. It was only early November, and it already looked and felt like it was the dead of winter.
Sincere leaned forward over the wheel, with his shoulders tense and hands at ten and two.
“We shouldn’t have had that last shot,” I said, watching his knuckles tighten as the car slid a little on a turn. Luckily, his fancy ass car corrected itself and merged back into the correct lane.
“We shouldn’t have had the last three. And I definitely shouldn’t have driven. We should have just took an Uber back. You shouldn’t drive your car home tonight. You should Uber or sleep at my house until you sober up or until the roads clear.”
“I agree.”
I had pregamed for the party at Sincere’s house and rode with him to the estate, leaving my car in his driveway.
