Khalid
Things were officially in motion.
Londyn had moved out of her house and I had moved in, Jamila had moved into my old place, and I had just received my very first direct deposit for a series of Instagram posts featuring some dope ass watches I got to keep thanks to Jayla’s business savvy. It was honestly fascinating to watch her in her element, sweeping through contracts and negotiating better deals, optimizing my Instagram for best engagement and teaching me how to take fly ass product placement pictures with minimal equipment, always looking so damn fine. But now that we were really doing business together, I was trying my best not to mess up our working relationship, even if that meant falling back when it came to my forever-growing attraction to her.
She didn’t make that shit easy, though.
In fact, it almost seemed like she was purposely taunting me when she floated towards my desk wearing a fire red pencil skirt that had her ass on swole and a floral print blouse that was a few buttons short of being closed now that it was the end of the workday for her. And not only was her outfit on point, but her smile was full and her heels were on.
Today was obviously a good day.
She could barely contain her excitement when she gushed, “Your first check. Congratulations, sir.”
With a proud nod, I told her, “Thanks, boss lady. I must say, you knew what you were talking about.”
“Did you ever doubt me?” she asked, cocking her head to the side teasingly with an arrogant smirk.
“Damn, she’s really in a good mood,” I thought to myself, abandoning the desk to meet her on the other side and answer, “Never that.”
She gave a wink as if to say, “Good answer” before laying her folder out on the desk to show me what she’d been working on, one of my favorite parts of the process since the shit always got her crazy excited. And as usual, I could only smile while I listened in on the latest rundown.
“So I have a couple of new opportunities lined up for you. Natural hair care products for this mane of yours, some new black-owned cereal company since you say it’s your favorite food, and a new Bluetooth speaker that’s shaped like a Hennessy bottle designed to blend in at house parties – or kickbacks as you guys call them.”
“All lit. I’m with it. What you need from me?” I asked, glancing at the thick stack of papers she had brought along.
She was already flipping through the pages that were all marked and highlighted as she answered, “Just a few signatures right now, then we can get the shots we need for the posts sometime this weekend if you’re free.”
“Actually, I have a little something going on this weekend. Something I’ve been meaning to invite you to,” I told her, the silent curiosity already brewing in her eyes once she turned my way. And I didn’t keep her waiting, leaning against the countertop as I continued, “I’m having a little housewarming party. All chill, nothing major. But if you don’t have any plans, I’d love to have you drop by. Jamila too.”
The party was actually Londyn’s idea, though I imagined it was really just an excuse for her to bring her ass back to town already. But once she mentioned all the free shit – gift cards - I could possibly get, it was a no-brainer for me too.
To my surprise, Jayla’s interest seemed to grow when she crossed her arms and asked, “Ahh, so that’s what this is about? I’m getting the pity invite because you really want my little sister to come?”
“What? Nah. I want you to come, and I’m inviting Jamila to be nice. I mean, since she’s still new to town and all that,” I told her honestly, knowing it might’ve been a little shady if I didn’t include her.
Still, Jayla thought she was onto something when she groaned, “Mmhmm. I saw the way you looked at her at the club a little while back. My sister is a baddie.”
“No denying that. But I think I might know somebody who has her beat,” I replied with a wink, watching as she rolled her eyes teasingly in response while muttering, “Forever the charmer.”
Her attention went back to the stack of contracts, directing me where to sign as she said, “Anyway. Send me the details. I’m sure we can make some time if you make some time for me to get these pictures taken and posts scheduled.”
“So we’re trading favors now?” I asked, scribbling my name and initials down in the designated places.
She waited for me to finish them all before she answered, “One is a favor, the other is mandatory business. Though it might be cool to get some pictures of the speaker actually in use at your housewarming party. So I guess we can blur the lines a little bit.”
“If only that same energy could apply in other places…” I muttered more to myself than her, though I could tell by the way she tensed up a little bit that she had heard me.
But after a quick sigh, she acted unfazed, plastering on an easy smile to ask, “So we have a deal?”
“I’ll see you this weekend, boss lady. And I know you like to show out, but the dress code is super chill. Give me convenience store Jayla with the company cap,” I teased, laughing once she threw a little tap against my arm as she groaned, “Boy…”
Gathering her papers, she placed them back into the folder before tucking it under her arm. Then she placed a gentle hand against my bicep to say, “I’ll be in touch, alright?”
“Yes, please.”
Her smirk was enough of a goodbye, especially since I’d be able to witness the treat of her walking away once she turned around. But she only got a few steps before she stopped dead in her tracks and hissed, “Damn. Have I really been here that long? When did it get so dark out?”
“If you’d pick your ambitious ass head up from your desk a little more often, you’d know,” I teased, catching the side-eye she threw my way in response even though she knew I was right. Then again, her hard work was turning into a dope little side hustle for me which meant I had no room to complain.
“Think you can walk me out?” she asked, her expression hopeful as if she thought I might turn her down.
But really, I was already holding the door open for her by the time I asked, “You scared of the dark or somethin’?”
She stepped past me with a short nod of thanks before she answered, “Of course I’m not scared of the dark. But as you may know, Mr. Security Guard, there are a few weirdos that like to linger around here when the sun goes down.”
“Well, tell them to come inside and start some trouble so I’ll have something to do. This overnight shit gets hella boring,” I admitted, knowing this little interaction with her would surely be the highlight of the next six hours.
Who am I kidding? Seeing her is always the highlight.
“In the age of YouTube and Netflix, how could you ever get bored?” she asked, the sight of her car in the distance - one of the few left in the parking lot - slowing her stride, almost as if she wasn’t quite ready to get rid of me just yet.
With that, I decided to take my time too, slipping my hands in my pockets as I answered, “For one, I’ve already watched just about every YouTube video you can think of. And for two, Londyn canceled her Netflix account since Chance already has one, so now I don’t have access.”
I was still a little salty about that shit, mainly because Londyn knew I was only two episodes away from finishing all the seasons of Breaking Bad and didn’t even give me a warning so I could hurry up and watch them. But Jayla was practically speaking my love language when she offered, “Want my password? I hardly ever have the time to use it.”
“Wow. I’m flattered, but nah. It’s only twelve bucks. I can afford to splurge a little bit now that I’m making some extra money thanks to you.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied teasingly as she opened the door to the backseat, then bent over to drop her folders on the leather.
While I probably should’ve had my eyes elsewhere, they were glued to her ass as I muttered, “That I am.” Though it was clear she hadn’t heard me when she stood back upright to say, “Have a good night, Khalid.”
“You too, Jayla Mitchell,” I replied as plainly as possible since I knew it would get a reaction out of her regardless. And once her eyes went wide, I was quick to explain, “Jamila insisted on putting her number in my phone, and she put her full name. That’s your fam, so…”
“We have different fathers.”
“Oh damn. My bad,” I told her, suddenly feeling silly for assuming.
Well… feeling silly until I saw the smirk on her face when she said, “But that’s still my maiden name too.”
“So you think you funny, huh? Yeah, you definitely gotta come to the party now,” I told her with a little chuckle, her teasing only making my appreciation for everything about her double in size.
Her professional side, her sense of humor, her resourcefulness, her… sexiness.
The woman was really everything. And she only made me that much more excited to have her in my crib this weekend when she finally replied, “I’ll see you then.”
&
Getting the crib in order for the housewarming party was already stressful enough. But leave it to my little cousin, Shaq, to do nothing but add to that stress when he asked, “What kinda hoes you got comin’ through here? You invite a few of them Instagram honeys?”
To be real, the invitation I had extended to him was more of a courtesy than anything since I knew my grandmama would’ve flamed my ass from heaven for leaving him out. She had raised the both of us, with Shaq being a few years younger - and a whole lot dumber - than me. And even though we favored each other in looks, our differences were clear every time he opened his damn mouth.
“Nah, this ain’t that kinda function,” I told him plainly, checking my wrist for the time and discovering a lot more had passed than I realized.
Shit.
After a quick sweep of the kitchen, I headed to my room to get dressed. And Shaq was right on my heels muttering, “Ain’t that kinda… then why the hell am I here? That’s the only reason I came! That’s the only reason I ever come.”
“Clearly, nigga. Since you didn’t bring a housewarming gift nor any body-warming liquor,” I told him annoyedly, slipping into the bathroom to change out of my chill wear into something a little nicer.
Designer chill wear.
“You the one making those internet dollars now. I figured you had it, bruh,” Shaq replied the second I emerged from the bathroom as if he had any idea how that shit worked. But I suppose I couldn’t blame him since he pretty much thought the same thing that most people, including myself, did; a sponsored post meant instant cash.
I was tempted to school him on the business shit until I heard incessant honking coming from outside, directing my attention to the source when I told him, “Londyn just pulled up. Make yourself useful and go help her carry some of those bottles in here.”
Instead of making moves like I had asked, he only peeked at her through the blinds. “Man, she ain’t missed a beat since y’all went to school together. I can’t believe you really never bagged that. Just what kinda nigga are you?”
With a little shove towards the front door, I answered, “A nigga with more morals than you’ll ever have. Now go help her with the liquor before I help you to these hands.”
“Nah, nah. Don’t try to be all hard now,” he replied jokingly, the stoic look I gave in response telling him I wasn’t in the mood for that shit. And I was glad he picked up on it enough to say, “Aight, aight. I’m goin’.”
Once he stepped outside, I did another quick sweep, this time of the living room to make sure there wasn’t anything out of place. But the only thing I found was a wrapper from the weed brownie Shaq must’ve consumed on the low stuffed into the couch.
“It’s gonna be a long night,” I thought to myself, shaking my head as I fixed the cushions. Then I went to drop the wrapper in the trash just as Londyn and Shaq’s soon-to-be high ass made their way back inside.
Londyn was all smiles when she announced, “You know I haven’t seen this fool since college. And he’s still as ugly as I remember.”
“Hit your little grown woman glow-up and suddenly forgot about those multi-colored kinky twists, huh?” Shaq teased, earning himself a punch in the arm as Londyn squealed, “Shut up!” Then she got busy arranging her and Miss. Annie’s contribution to the party on the countertop, taking short glances at the space that used to be all hers.
“I like what you’ve done with the place, Khalid. Not my style, but I guess it fits you well,” she said with a subtle hint of shade to let me know she wasn’t really all that impressed.
Either that or she was just sad to see it look a little differently than she remembered, something she’d simply have to deal with since, “That’s all that matters, right?”
Instead of answering, she only side-eyed me, sticking her personal bottle of liquor into the freezer before turning back my way to say, “You should’ve told me to come-by earlier so I could fix that hair of yours. You’re looking a little rough, homie.”
“Been thinking about cutting it to be honest,” I replied, scrubbing a hand over my locs that were definitely past needing a touch-up. But between my regular job and my side gig with Jayla which included a strategic increase in my presence on social media, I hadn’t really had the time to find a new stylist even though looking good was part of my “brand”.
Of course the mention of cutting my hair fired Londyn right up as she screeched, “What?! And let all my hard work go to waste?! You’re trippin’!”
I totally understood where she was coming from, especially since my locs had been around just as long as she had. They were really like a staple of our friendship; the thing that had kicked it off and a small part of what had sustained it over the years. But with the circumstances changing for the both of us, I admitted, “Now that you aren’t here to get me right on the regular, shits nothin’ but a hassle.”
“If I need to make a trip back once a month to retwist you, you know I will,” she replied, her unwavering generosity something I had always admired. I mean, this whole housewarming thing wouldn’t have even been possible without her letting me rent the house for a more than fair price, her leaving some furniture behind to make the place look reasonably inviting, her having the idea to put this little shindig together, and then supplying the alcohol without me having to ask.
She was a real one, no doubt about it. But the fact that she was so willing to make the trip only made me laugh since..., “Damn. You’re that homesick already, huh?”
While we hadn’t talked about it directly, she had made plenty of comments via text that hinted at her starting to miss home. And even if it wasn’t enough for her to undo the move since she was definitely thriving in her new digs, it was clear she was slowly becoming hip to that whole “No place like home” concept.
Gnawing on her lip, she pushed out, “No… Yes… Sometimes. I mean, I can only ride my man so many times in one day before he tells me I need a new hobby. And making new friends as an adult is just… hard. ”
“Learn how to be nice to people, and maybe they’ll stop running from you,” I teased as I blew past her towards the fridge and pulled out the sandwich platter she’d insisted I order from the grocery store deli. No matter how much she claimed her mother’s parties annoyed her, it was clear she was starting to take after her in that regard.
“Haven’t lost your sense of asshole, I see,” she muttered under the loud popping sound from the bag of chips she was opening. Then she reached into the cabinets and pulled out a bowl I didn’t even know I owned, dumping the chips out with an attitude like my little comment had really hurt her feelings.
I wanted to ask her who she thought she was fooling with that shit, wanted to remind her that I knew her far too well to fall for the okey-doke. But instead, I pinched her cheek teasingly while telling her, “Keeps you humble, little baby. You know that.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever,” she replied with a roll of her eyes, snatching away to throw the empty bag in the trash as a new thought dawned on her. “Wait a minute. What happened to Shaq?”
“Awww shit,” was my immediate reaction since I could only imagine what he had gotten himself into now that some time had passed meaning his edible had settled in. And while I probably should’ve been surprised, I was only annoyed to find him outside sitting on the roof.
“Cuz, what the hell are you doing up there?” I shouted, wondering how he had even gotten up there since I didn’t see a ladder nearby.
He didn’t bother looking down at me, instead kept his eyes toward the sky when he pointed out, “That cloud. It’s White Jesus. I know it’s White Jesus. He saw me picking money up off the floor to throw in the strip club two weeks ago, and now he’s coming to shut me out of heaven’s gates for my sin.”
Londyn immediately started dying laughing, forced to put a hand over her mouth to keep from drawing too much attention to us while I told Shaq, “Bruh, you are tweakin’. Get down from there.”
Instead of listening, he only shook his head. “Nah, I deserve it. Sapphire thought she was making double, and really I was just recycling her earnings. White Jesus is about to send me straight to hell.”
If he wasn’t my responsibility, I might’ve thought it was funny too. But since he was my responsibility, I only grew more annoyed when, through her laughs, Londyn asked, “Exactly what did he smoke, and where can one buy some? Asking for a me.”
“It was just one of those brownies,” I told her with a roll of my eyes as Shaq started singing some offbeat remix of Ruben Studdard’s, “Sorry 2004” a whole fourteen years too late.
“This is my sorry forrrr, two thousand…eighteen. And I ain’t gonna pick up no more, of her tipssss...”
“Oh damn. He must’ve eaten the whole thing then. You know they say you should only eat half,” Londyn replied just as Shaq broke from his song to make another request for forgiveness.
“Black Jesus, come save me! White Jesus is trippin’. He doesn’t know my heart like you do! We don’t even speak the same language!”
“Fuck, man. We gotta get him down from there,” I hissed, peeking over to Londyn to find her filming the whole thing instead of brainstorming ideas like she should’ve been. “Londyn, are you serious?! This shit ain’t funny! What if my neighbors see him?! What if they call the police?”
“Shit, it might be us calling the police if we can’t get him down ourselves,” she replied as Shaq started singing out another plea, this time via his own remix on Justin Bieber lyrics.
“Is it too late now to say sorryyyyy… cause I really loved her bodyyyy.”
“Is it too late now to say sorryyyyy…Yeah, I knowww that I let you down. But her booty cheeks were hellaaa round.”
Londyn had the nerve to start jigging to his song, earning herself a little shove in the shoulder when I finally replied, “Hell nah! Can you imagine their response to a black man, high off cannabis, screaming from the rooftop in this nice ass neighborhood? They don’t give a fuck about it being your property; they’ll still shoot his ass down without even blinking.”
It was a sad reality, but reality nonetheless. And while I hated its truth, it was at least enough to get Londyn on my side as she said, “On second thought, I’ll go get the ladder from the garage.”