I slid a folder toward her as she sat in front of my desk. I returned to my seat behind it, saying, “Alright. We’re going to make sure you understand what you earned, what you’re owed, and what you’re agreeing to moving forward.”
She nodded as I opened the folder and pointed to the first sheet. “This is what came in total. Before anybody takes a cut.”
Her eyebrows lifted and her eyes ballooned cartoonishly. “That number still doesn’t feel real.”
I smiled at her because I adored how humble she was. “Now this is the gallery commission. Voss takes a percentagebecause they hosted the show, marketed it, staffed it, processed payments, and brought buyers into the room.”
“So, this is what I actually take home,” she said, tracing the next line with her finger.
“Exactly. And this contract is for ongoing shows and prints. It’s simple, but it protects you. It makes sure the terms don’t change just because excitement dies down.”
By the time we finished, she leaned back and shook her head slowly. “I got some rest, but I’m still so tired from this weekend.”
“This weekend was crazy.”
She smiled. “Crazy in a good way. Friday night still feels like a dream. Then brunch the next day, all of us together… and the Cartiers were really cool. Like… normal.”
I chuckled. “They’re normal.”
“Saint had me crying laughing.”
That made me laugh even harder. “He’s an idiot.”
Rhythm had been nervous walking into that brunch, and by the time the food came, she was laughing like she’d been around us for years.
She looked down at her hands for a second, then back up at me. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah.”
Her tone shifted into caution and curiosity. “Are you all… gangstas?”
I blinked once. “Where did that come from?”
She shrugged like she was trying to play it cool. “I’m from Chicago, Sincere. I know street niggas when I see them. Y’all are not regular men. And I think you’re smart enough to keep me out of anything I shouldn’t be in. I’m not scared of street niggas. I’m scared of being unsafe.” She leaned forward and grabbed my hand across the desk. “I know it’s not wise for you to tell me their business. But promise me I’ll always be safe around you. Around them. Because I got kids and I love my life.”
I stood and walked around the desk. I just kissed her forehead and let my hand rest at the back of her neck for a second. “You’re always safe with me.”
Her shoulders dropped like her body had been waiting to hear that. I went back to my side of the desk, reached into my pocket, and pulled out an Amex Black Card. Then I slid it across to her.
She picked it up, confused at first. Then her eyes widened when she saw her name.
Her eyes darted up at me. “Sincere…”
“I added you as an authorized user. Your money needs to stay yours. Save it. Build with it. Take care of your babies. But if you ever need anything, I don’t want you stressing out about it.”
Her voice caught. “I don’t want you for your money.”
“I know. That’s why I’m comfortable doing this.” I tried to lighten it. “And because I know that, you can have all my money.”
She didn’t laugh, though. Her gaze stayed serious. “I don’t ever want to feel bought.”
That threw me for a second. In my head, I was easing her burden, protecting her peace, and loving her the way I knew how. But I heard what she meant loud and clear. This wasn’t about money. It was about her independence that she had finally gotten.
I nodded once, finally getting it. “I should’ve asked you first.”
She held my gaze, telling me. “I appreciate you trying to make things easier for me. But remove obstacleswithme. Notforme.”
I squeezed her hand. “Alright. We’ll do it that way. No big financial moves without discussion. I can support your business, but you stay in control. We decide together what help looks like.”
