“Quest. The press will be there. The acting mayor will be there. Every important person in DC will be there. And if I show up flushed and wobbly-legged because you couldn’t keep your mouth to yourself, your grandmother is going to know exactly why.”
He stepped back with that half-smile and finished getting ready. We took separate cars to the casino because I had class in the morning.
The casino was transformed. The building that had been dark and empty during Rita’s birthday was now lit up and alive and buzzing with energy. Red carpet at the entrance. Photographers lining both sides. Valet parking backed up down the block. Women in gowns and men in tuxedos and the bass from whatever DJ they’d hired thumping through the walls before you even got inside.
I found Zainab near the bar. She was in a deep red dress that made her dark skin glow and she was holding a champagne flute and looking around the room with wide eyes.
“This is insane,” she said when I hugged her. “Do you see this place? They did a great job.”
“Where are the twins?”
“With a sitter and Yusef. I’ve already checked the Nest camera four times.” She took a sip of champagne. “You look gorgeous. That color on you is everything.”
“Thank you. Where’s Prime?”
“Somewhere doing security checks. You know how he gets.” She looked at me sideways. “How’s Quest doing? Prime said he’s been ghosting since the party.”
“He’s handling it. Tonight is important for him. He needs this to go well.”
“It will. They’ve planned really well. If something goes wrong tonight it would have to be an act of God.”
We clinked glasses, and I took a sip and let myself enjoy the moment for a second. The music, the lights, the energy of a room full of people who were there to celebrate something the Banks family built. I could see Quest across the room, shaking hands with the acting mayor, laughing at something a city council member said, performing the version of himself that the world expected. Nobody looking at him would know that three days ago his identity had been detonated by a letter from his own mother.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I said. “Come with me?”
“Always.”
The bathroom was down a corridor off the main floor. It was as upscale as the rest of the casino, complete with marble countertops, full-length mirrors, soft lighting, fresh flowers on the vanity. We walked in, and I was checking my lipstick when the door swung open behind us.
It was Lyric.
She was in a tight silver dress with her hair slicked back and her eyes locked on me with an expression that told me this wasn’t a coincidence. She’d been waiting. She’d seen me go to the bathroom and she’d followed.
“So you’re the new bitch,” she said.
Zainab set her champagne down on the counter. I put my lipstick back in my clutch. Slowly.
“Lyric, walk away,” I said.
“Or what?” She stepped closer. “I gave that man two years of my life. And he threw me away for YOU?”
“Please walk away before you embarrass yourself.”
“Fuck you,” she barked and then swung.
It was so sloppy. She threw a looping slap aimed at my face that told me everything I needed to know about Lyric’s fighting experience, which was zero. I caught her wrist mid-swing, yanked her forward off balance, and hit her in the mouth with my free hand. Clean and hard, a punch that Denise at the range would’ve been proud of.
Lyric stumbled back into the paper towel dispenser and grabbed her face. “You crazy bitch!”
“I warned you.”
She came at me again, this time grabbing my hair with both hands. I let her because having both her hands in my hair meant they weren’t protecting her body. I hit her twice in the ribs and she doubled over and I grabbed the back of her head and brought her face down to meet my knee coming up.
She hit the marble floor and Zainab was already there. Not to break it up. My sister stepped over Lyric’s body and stood beside me with her champagne flute still in her hand and looked down at this woman on the bathroom floor with the same calm energy she’d used to run a bakery while her man was at war.
“Stay down,” Zainab said. “You don’t want what comes next.”
Lyric stayed down. Bleeding from her lip, mascara running, silver dress twisted sideways. She looked up at me from the floor with tears and rage in her eyes.
