Can't Get Enough (Skyland, #3)(24)

“I got you, girl,” Nelly says. “Veggies. Fried green tomatoes.”

We laugh and I tell the server I’m fine with water.

“How are the kids?” I ask them both, pinging a look between the two of them.

“Giving me as much grief as I gave my mama.” Kashawn massages her temples. “Meryl decided she doesn’t want to go to college. Every step this child has taken since she was like five years old was toward an Ivy League education. We didn’t impose that on her. She wanted it, and now all of a sudden she’s gonna do what? Travel the world and post about it on social media?”

“Hey, don’t knock it,” I say. “My friend Yasmen’s daughter Deja will probably make more money as a hair influencer than most of the people in her class who go to college for a conventional degree. And you already know Soledad is getting that bag.”

“She has you to thank for that,” Kashawn says, reaching for another shrimp.

“I simply connected her with some brands looking for the kind of content she produces,” I say. “Soledad is a domestic beast. I love seeing one of my best friends flourish.”

I sip my water and nod toward Nelly. “And what about Gabriella?”

“Finally sleeping through the night.” She lifts her hands in hallelujah. “That’s what I get for marrying a woman half my age who wanted babies.”

“Beth’s not half your age,” I laugh. “She’s only ten years younger, and you know you love that baby more than life itself.”

“You right,” Nelly concedes. “But I didn’t see myself starting a family at fifty.”

She reaches into her purse and fishes out a pink mini fan, plopping it onto the table and turning it on to oscillate over her face.

“I’m literally in menopause,” Nelly mock sobs. “When they say it’s like fire shut up in your bones, I bet they meant hot flashes. Lemme tell you. Changing diapers while having hot flashes is not it. Why’d y’all let me do this mom thing this late?”

“You know you’d do it again for Beth,” I tell her. “Like come on, you’re so gone for that woman.”

“What we won’t do for love.” Kashawn sighs dreamily.

“Whatever,” Nelly grumbles, but she can’t hide the smile that creeps over her face or the sheer joy in her eyes every time she talks about Beth and the baby.

I can’t help but think of my earlier conversation with Zere.

“You’re happy, though, right?” I ask. “No regrets?”

“None,” Nelly replies without hesitation and pulls the fan closer to her face. “Ecstatic. I can’t imagine life without that lil’ stink bomb now.”

We order our food and get down to business while we wait for it to arrive. I never would have imagined I’d be in the venture capital space, but when Nelly, my soror and mentor, approached me about getting Aspire off the ground to help Black women entrepreneurs, it was an immediate yes.

“I hope we have a superstar founder in our second round like we did in the first,” Nelly says.

“Hue has surpassed every expectation,” I agree.

The fledgling cosmetic company’s hero product is a foundation designed for women of color. Lots of companies have been doing that lately, but this product uses AI to customize the absolute perfect match for your skin. It’s been getting massive media coverage and the sales to go with it.

“I have a feeling this’ll be our first unicorn,” Nelly says with a gleam of pride in her eyes.

A unicorn investment valued at a billion dollars is indeed rare, especially in the first round for a small fund like ours.

“We really need to play it up to potential limited partners,” Kashawn says. “Speaking of, anyone new we need to be pitching? Talking to?”

Maverick Bell flashes in my mind. He expressed some interest, but who knows if he was even serious. Maybe he’d had a few drinks by then. There was a literal line of people at the bar waiting to speak to him. He probably got pitched so many times that night, he won’t even remember our conversation.

Meanwhile I have replayed the brief exchange in my head several times. Not a sexy-flirty-I-wonder-if-I’ll-take-you-home kind of thing. I felt connected to him in a way that I haven’t with anyone else, specifically around Mama’s condition. Even in the midst of wall-to-wall partygoers, with music blasting and liquor flowing freely all around, he saw me. Recognized there was a part of me completely removed from that scene and anxious about my mother.

I remain quiet and fork Paschal’s famous greens into my mouth. If I breathed a word of Maverick Bell’s interest, my partners would pounce on it and force me to follow up. I can’t call that man. First of all, he was probably talking out the side of his neck. Making conversation. But even as I think it, I know the thoughtful man who shared his experience with his grandfather isn’t that cavalier.

My second reason for not wanting to reach out…

The memory of Zere’s pain this morning clamps down on even the thought that was forming. I can’t reach out to Maverick. Ever. That’s it. That’s all. End of story.

“I think we should host a showcase,” Nelly says. “Bring our best-performing round-one founders in along with prospective limited partners, and even those who have already committed. Leverage the success of round one to raise money for round two. We want to cast vision and make these rich folks feel comfortable trusting us with their money.”