"Lead the way,Boss." PJ sarcastically grinned.
Giving her the same expression, we both made our way out of the parking garage to walk the block it would take to bring us to The McQueen Firm. In finding a manager, I wanted someone who would have my best interest at heart. According to some locals, The McQueen Firm was where I needed to be.
Several men stared at PJ and me as we walked toward the building housing our destination. For one, we were sort of tall. I never grew past five-nine, and I was alright with that. PJ stood at five-nine too, only she had heels on, putting her a few inches taller than me. Her Amazon body drew attention that I'd soon enough love to ignore. I was trying to keep a low profile, but she didn't give a fuck. We resembled some runway models, even though I was dressed down like a muthafucka.
Glad that we finally made it to the building, I hustled inside to avoid any further curious stares. In due time, they'd see my face on the television. My eyes scanned the lobby of the nicely decorated suite, slightly smiling.Okay!
Mid-thought, my eyes fell on...perfection. He was standing with some other fine-ass niggas, but him... he was a fallen angel — literally. His skin was the first thing I noticed. The glow of his rich mahogany brown complexion was alluring. The next thing I noticed was the powerful build of his tall body in those all-black Jordans, black slacks, and black Polo he wore. By the time my eyes made it to his face, I was sold that he indeedwasperfection.
Thankfully, I had on shades or else he would've peeped me staring into his soulful brown eyes. Whether it was the perfectness in his strong jaw, the sleekness of his strong nose, or the fullness of his thick ass lips, I was sure he had to be the finest man I'd ever seen. Still, it was his eyes that did it. The way they became hooded when they fell on me caused my heart rate to skip.
Annoyed, I wished I had listened to PJ about wearing these damn jeans and sneakers. Not that I wanted his attention. Although I looked bomb as fuck,helooked high class as hell! Because I was annoyed, I grilled him like I did hoes when they stared.
"Mimi!" PJ gasped, having watched the entire interaction. "You are so disrespectful," she whispered. She hurriedly told the receptionist who we were here to see. She pointed to the elevators and told us that Dame Richards was waiting for us on the fourth floor.
"He was staring," I defended.
"So were you." She scoffed as we headed to the elevators.
Shrugging, I replied, "He'on know that."
"Jeez," she muttered, bothered because she hated confrontation. As much as my baby sister could brawl, shedid notlike confrontation.
At the same time that I felt a presence behind me, the smell of weed and Tom Ford cologne tickled my nose. Peering over my shoulder, I caughthimstaring dead in my face. You ever had a nigga's eyes talk to you? Well, it was the strangest shit. Maybe because Vick never looked at me that way is why I thought it was strange.
The elevator binged and opened. PJ and I waited for the couple of people to get off before we stepped on. PJ pressed the button for the fourth floor while he stepped into the elevatorand stood directly in front of me, with his hands resting in his pockets.
Sliding my shades to the top of my head, I hiked an eyebrow. "Can I help you?" I asked because he was standing too close and smelling too good. His body was so wide, I couldn't see past him. He had to be six-three or six-four.
"I was gon' ask you the same thing, shawty. You mugged me."
Oooh! When he opened his glorious mouth and let that fucking soul-snatching deep voice flow forth, I died inside. Or could it have been the platinum slugs on his fangs that turned methefuck on?
"She didn't mean it," PJ tried to intervene.
He smirked. "Nah, she meant it." His eyes traveled the length of my body.
The elevator binged, letting us know we were on our floor. He stepped off, then held his hand out so that the elevator would stay open for us.
When I passed him, he drawled, "That don't scare me, baby."
"Isn't it a lil' early to be smellin' like marijuana?" I quipped, ignoring him.
"Less you got something else to relax me," he quickly replied.
Eyes wide, I closed my mouth and continued down the hall with PJ. She was glaring at me like I’d done something wrong. The smell of Tom Ford had me glancing over my shoulder again. Behind me, he casually followed us.
"What are you doing?" I asked. He was fine and everything but a complete stranger.
"I'm tryna see where my wife is headed," he replied with a shrug.
Wife? Ugh! That was an instant fucking turnoff. I did not fuck with single men, let alone married ones. Was it sad that I peered up and down the hall looking for his wife? I wanted to see whatthis heffa looked like. Fine niggas were synonymous with being with gorilla-looking females.
I didn't see anyone coming, so I shrugged it off as PJ, and I made it to the conference room where Dame was waiting for us, along with a woman who was quite beautiful. Still,thisnigga followed.
"Good morning!" she cheerily greeted.
"Morning, ladies." Dame nodded.
