Can't Get Enough (Skyland, #3)(25)

“And we could have Hannah from Hue share how well things are going,” I add. “Her revenue is already bonkers. It’s an incredible return for her investors and a great track record for our fund.”

“Let’s do it.” Kashawn gulps down the last of her sweet tea. “My assistant can help organize it. She’ll call your offices to get the ball rolling.”

“I’m gonna order some of that 1947 chicken for Beth to go,” Nelly says. “She’s home with the baby. That’ll be a treat.”

“How’s she adjusting to not working?” I ask.

“It’s harder than she thought it would be,” Nelly says. “There’s a touch of postpartum. She may go back to work in a year or so, but right now, she just wants to focus completely on Gabby.”

“And is the firm being understanding about it?” Kashawn asks.

“Well, they say they are, but she was close to making partner when she got pregnant.” Nelly shrugs. “We all know the circus don’t stop for one mama.”

“Isn’t the saying the circus don’t stop for one monkey?” Kashawn laughs.

“Like I’m gon’ call the mother of my child a monkey.” Nelly sucks her teeth. “Shiiiit. Lemme get this chicken before she comes to her senses and realizes I don’t deserve her.”

Once we all have our to-go boxes, I reach for the bill, not surprised to find myself in a three-way tug-of-war with them to pay.

“It’s my turn, heifers,” I fake growl. “Y’all not gon’ block my blessings by not letting me pay.”

“There’s the church girl we know and love,” Nelly teases.

A breezy laugh slips past my lips. “We all know I’m far from the church girl. That’s my mama and Aunt Geneva.”

Some of the humor leaves their expressions, replaced by concern.

“How’s Mama Betty doing?” Kashawn queries.

Kashawn’s known my mother since college when Mama would visit me on campus at Georgia State. We were both on scholarship at a PWI trying to figure shit out in a space that seemed to at times only tolerate us. We experienced how being one of the few can drive you into the solace and safety of your community. I needed that level of support and acceptance for my survival.

“She’s fine.” I offer the folder with the bill and my card to the server. “You know how it is. I think she’s holding steady right now.”

No need to go into the latest drama from Saturday night. It was no worse than it’s been before with Mama. I’m simply still coming to terms with it not getting any better.

We walk to the parking lot and I head toward my Mercedes G wagon. Kashawn sashays to her BMW and Nelly unlocks her Range Rover. Atlanta really is that city where Black affluence thrives. We named our fund Aspire to reflect the hopes of our founders, but also the spirit of this city that has been an incubator for Black strivers and hustlers for decades.

I’m sleepy and heavy lidded, trying to shake off the itis when I get back to the office.

“Who loves you?” I ask Skipper, placing a small Styrofoam to-go container on her desk, which she opens with a squeal.

“Ooooh! Sweet potato cake from Paschal’s.” She does a little shimmy in her seat and licks frosting from the side of the dessert. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re welcome,” I chuckle. “Oh, and could you send some flowers to Nelly’s wife?”

“Special occasion?”

“Special person.” I turn on my heel and head into my office. “Hold all my calls. I need to get through some of this work before that three o’clock with Paste.”

“Sure thing, boss,” she says around a hunk of cake.

I haven’t been back at my desk for more than three minutes when Skipper pokes her head through the door.

“Yes?” I ask, clinging to my patience.

“There’s a call for you,” she says, her eyes stretched wide.

“Did I not just say hold all calls?” I drop my head into my hands. “It better be important for you to interrupt when I’m trying to make some progress here.”

“It’s very important,” Skipper says on a rush of breath. “I mean, he’s very important.”

I lift my head slowly to meet her eyes, a frown gathering on my face. “Who is on the phone?”

“Oh, no one.” Skipper gulps and grins. “Just Maverick Bell.”





CHAPTER 9





MAVERICK


I’m not sure why I called.

I have people for this.

Hell, I have Bolt for this. He even offered to reach out after he gathered some basics on the Aspire Fund. I usually never connect directly with the entity I invest in. Just send money and wait for it to come back to me with a return. I don’t know that I want to be involved yet with the Aspire Fund, but I do know that I wanted to speak to Hendrix again.

Am I the asshole for reaching out to her the day my breakup with Zere was announced? Probably. I’m not… pursuing anything. I don’t know Hendrix well enough for that. After three years with one person, I’m not even sure that I want anything with anyone right now.

But Hendrix intrigues me, and as jaded as it sounds, not many people do these days.