I didn’t have to turn around to know she was right—I could feel Nairobi’s eyes on us.
Parker sighed dramatically as the valet pulled up with her red BMW. “I was hoping we’d be able to have some more fun before you ran into her,” she said, stepping toward the car. “But I guess this is it, huh?”
She blew me a kiss, flashing one last smile before pulling off.
Two years ago.
Three weeks had passed since Money got shot. What was supposed to be nothing more than knocking some niggas’ heads together had turned into a whole production. And Nairobi— who should’ve only been here for a short time to get intel from Kyree— was still here helping us figure out who’d ordered the hit.
I’d spent most of the day staring at computer monitors trying to get additional info for Nairobi to use, and my brain was fried. I needed fresh air and a change of scenery.
I headed to the Emerald Lounge and was surprised to find her tucked in a corner booth nursing a bottle of wine by herself.
Even in the half-empty lounge, Nairobi’s presence was magnetic. She knew the effect her presence had on men and was completely unbothered by it. She was beautiful—cocoa brown skin, her sharp features accentuated by her short hair, high cheekbones, full lips, and legs for days. Tonight she had on a simple white tank top and jeans with diamond studs. She took a sip of her wine, and my dick twitched at the way her tongue darted out to catch a stray drop from her lip. Part of me wanted to sit at the bar and chat up Sheree, one of the bartenders I messed with occasionally, but my feet had a mind of their own and were heading in her direction.
She looked up before I reached the booth. Those dark eyes tracked me the way I noticed she tracked everything, like she was determining if I was a threat before I even opened my mouth.
“Fontaine,” she said.
“Nairobi.”
“You following me?”
“Nah,” I said as I slid into the booth next to her. “But if I was, would that be a problem?”
She tilted her head, considering me over the rim of her glass. “Depends on why.”
Sheree appeared at our table with a glass of bourbon for me. Nairobi frowned when she winked at me but quickly caught herself.
Interesting.
“Thanks, Sheree,” I said before turning my focus back to Nairobi. “You been here long?”
“Long enough to finish half this bottle. It was either this or stare at the ceiling at my condo.”
“Why you ain’t call somebody? Slim and Jelani are out tonight.”
“I don’t really hang out with people.”
“But you’re hanging out with me,” I smiled.
She rolled her eyes. “You invited yourself into my space. I’d hardly call this hanging out.”
“Fair enough,” I said, taking a sip of my bourbon. “So what, you just sit alone drinking wine by yourself on a Friday night?”
“Sometimes. I like my own company. Is that a problem?”
“Not at all. Just trying to figure you out.”
“Good luck with that,” she scoffed and poured herself another glass.
I leaned back, stretched my arm across the top of the booth,and spread my legs. She didn’t move away when my knee brushed hers.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked.
“You’ve been asking me things since you sat down, so clearly you don’t need my permission.”
“You and Cash?—”
