“This is not about Rolani. I was calling because I don’t know how you use that demon ass rose. I ought to file assault charges.”
They burst into a fit of giggles.
“You gotta let it simmer down to about fifty percent charge,” Shadow said, matter-of-factly.
“Friend, that’s the craziest shit I’ve ever heard of. But look, I need a new recommendation for a B.O.B, but I gotta go in.”
“Okay, and I forgot you hanging with the stars now. Ouu, fancy.”
“Bye, girl. Send the rec.”
She disconnected as she pulled into the long spiral driveway, taking in the house as it came into view. DaVinci Bryns lived the way Kennedi expected a man of his caliber to live — well, but not loud about it. She loved seeing Black excellence, and that’s what the Bryns gave.
Kennedi had been in Silverrun long enough to get folded into their circle without fully meaning to. It started professionally and became personal thats how it was with genuine people. Halo didn’t perform. Sametra, who was Halo’s best friend, didn’t perform. They made up their minds about you fast, then treated you like you’d been part of their lives the whole time. Kennedi had spent most of her adult life keeping people at a comfortable distance and had no defense ready for that.
So now she was at game night.
“Ken, you made it.” Halo squealed, hugging her at the door.
“Thanks for inviting me. I’m competitive, so I’m just warning you.”
“Then you are exactly where you should be.”
The living room had been rearranged around a long folding table, cards and game boxes stacked at the center, drinks going around. Maybe ten people total — DaVinci's teammates, a couple she didn't recognize, Malik already in his spades face before the cards were even dealt.
“Baby, Ken made it,” Halo announced it like she was presenting somebody.
DaVinci leaned in and embraced Kennedi. He let his wife do what she wanted. If she said Kennedi was good people, he followed her lead. Plus, it was because of them that she was here alone.
“Ken, tell this nigga that boiled anything is a southern delicacy.”
“He’s not lying. We boil and pickle everything.”
“That’s nasty. So nasty. I ain’t eating no boiled pickled pig feet.”
“More for us,” Kennedi joked.
The night got started with Uno because someone always wanted to start with Uno, and the argument about house rules burned through fifteen minutes before the first card hit the table.
“Draw four is draw four,” Kennedi said for the third time. “You cannot stack. That is not a rule.”
“That is absolutely a rule,” Malik said, completely confident and completely wrong.
“Malik, I need you to tell me where you learned to play Uno, because whoever taught you did you wrong.”
“I taught myself.”
“And there’s the problem.”
The table burst into laughter. DaVinci shook his head at Malik, Halo covered her mouth as she laughed, and Kennedi felt herself relax into the moment. This was what she had been missing. Not a specific place, but a feeling. People around a table being loud and comfortable with each other, without an agenda.
She wanted that and hadn’t until recently.
They moved through Uno and into Phase 10, which brought out the true character of everyone present. Sametra was ruthless. She was the one you hated playing against. DaVinci trash-talked constantly and was losing. Halo complained the whole time because she couldn’t catch how to play the game.
Kennedi was holding her own and feeling good about it when Chance sat down in the empty seat to her left.
She’d seen him around the set. DaVinci’s manager and close friend. His cologne filtered into her nose and did nothing for her. Chance wasn’t ugly — he was very good-looking — but he just wasn’t Rolani.
