“He’s nice. No, he don’t beat bitches. He just hit you with a million questions,” Alana added. “Why? You tryna fill out an app?”
Laila laughed. “Please don’t insult me like that. Remember, I’m married to a basketball player.” She waved her big ass ring in their face.
I shook my head. “Sounds like that nigga everywhere. Y’all enjoy. Just make sure y’all ass ain’t fighting over him.” I raised an eyebrow.
“I’m just tryna get a bag,” Alana said.
“And I’m just in it for dick and wings,” Nia added.
“Girl, you funny as fuck,” I continued to shake my head.
“Welp, what’s next for us? Let’s play UNO,” Jailyn said, standing up.
Later that night, when I was alone, I realized I got no good information out of the girls on Vaughn. Therefore, I pulled out my MacBook and typed in South Central housing project by Vaughn St. Clair. Three big condo-style buildings popped up, saying coming soon. It was an 80-million-dollar project fully funded by him and his family, the St. Clair Foundation.
Before I knew it, I had moved deeper into his personal life, his past relationships, the fact that he was fuckin’ every chick in my circle. However, his business resume outweighed the hypersexual bullshit he had going on in his life.
I put some numbers together and made my decision.
Me:Good evening. This is Sade. I’m texting to set up a meeting for the South Central project. I’m available between 2 and 7 PM on weekdays. I look forward to hearing back.
213-915-2685: You ain’t gotta be all formal, ma. Let’s meet tomorrow, 3 PM at the site. You come with a number?
Me: 500,000 per building.
Vaughn:Whatever you want. You’re worth it… See you tomorrow.
And that was that.
Sade
“I came for business… he made it something else.”
Ipulled up to the address Vaughn sent me. I looked at the building sign that read “Crown Heights.” My memory started coming to me then. Vaughn was no stranger who invaded my friend circle. We had grown up in Compton together, but had different paths. I thought he was doing a good thing for the city by opening low-income housing for families. Usually, men in our neighborhoods never cared about where they came from. Vaughn did. I’d give him points for that.
I parked, stepped out, and looked around. The three buildings looked like they belonged on the Santa Monica strip by the beach.
I grabbed my laptop bag and iPad before stepping out of the car. As I walked up the pathway, Vaughn walked out, dressed in somewhat business-casual attire. Regular dark jeans, a collared shirt, expensive-looking dress shoes, and sunglasses. He was real clean cut. No jewelry, and a hard hat on. He smiled a generous smile, holding an extra hard hat.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Bennett. You’re on time, most aren’t,” he said, holding out his hand. I shook it.
“My team and I are always on time,” I said with confidence, because we were.
“That’s a good trait.” He handed me the extra hard hat. “Put that on, though. Don’t want nothing dropping on that big head.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Ain’t got no big head, but let’s get to work.”
He smirked. “Yes, ma’am.”
I put the hat on, and we went inside.
He started showing me around as soon as we stepped inside, and I had to admit the place was beautiful. Workers moved fast out of our way as he walked me through a few units. He talked and told me what he needed, and I wrote everything down in my iPad.
I must’ve been too quiet because he stopped and turned to me.
“You know I’m not trying to hire you to take orders. I’m hiring you to make decisions,” he told me.
“I understand. I’m not taking it in before I put my two cents in,” I told him truthfully. “I’d love to hear your input so far, though.”
