Page 49 of Unlucky You

“Soon, I hope.”

“Ehhh…” I cringed.

“I won’t be here forever, Saniya. It would do my heart some good to know that you and your sister have someone worthy of your hearts. Love is a beautiful thing, sweetheart. To have one person who stands by your side with no expectations or preconceived notions is a feeling unparalleled by anything you could ever possibly imagine. I want you and your sister to experience what your mother and I have. It would also be great not to worry so much about the two of you.”

“But you only want us to have that type of relationship with a man youapproveof.”

He quickly shook his head. “I don’t have to approve of him, Saniya. I only have to approve of the way he loves you.Regardless of what package he comes in, if he loves you the way you deserve to be loved, shows up for you, then that’s good enough for me. I don’t hate the men you find yourself involved with. My discord is with how they treat you. If someone loves you properly, the rest doesn’t matter.”

He stood and lifted his bowling bag, reaching for mine. “Come on. Let’s head out. This old man has taken up enough of your time today.”

I nodded and stood but hugged him before he had a chance to lift my bag. “Thank you for that.”

“For what?”

“Reminding me that you’re the best father ever.”

He kissed my forehead. “At least I’m winning in the parenting department because I suck with this bowling thing. Maybe it’s time to switch things up.”

I grinned and looped my arm through his after he lifted my bag and moved the strap over his shoulder so we could leave.

“Maybe I can offer you a few pointers.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Right, the student becomes the teacher. No thanks, sweetheart. I don’t believe my pride can handle too many more blows like that.”

As we left Pin Pals, my mind drifted to Grand. I hated how much I was thinking about someone who likely hadn’t given me a second thought since I left his apartment. What I hated even more was that I wanted him to think about me. After I was safely in my car and waving at my father while he watched me navigate out of the parking lot, I decided to stop worrying about things I couldn’t change. With tired eyes, I was on my way home to grab a nap and lounge around my apartment for the rest of the day.

I spenta lazy afternoon bingeing shows I missed during the week and indulging in more junk food than should have been consumed in one sitting. My day was incredibly nonproductive. So much so that by eight, when I received a call from Joe offering money for a few exclusive shots of Yara, I declined. She was an artist in high demand and on every blog and media outlet you could think of. A few more shots wouldn’t make or break her current fandom.

When I told him I wasn’t working today and he all but begged, offering me double, explaining why he wanted the shots, I agreed. It was rumored that Yara was creeping with a mystery guy. I was a bit surprised that he reached out after our disagreement about Grand. Then again, I was good, discreet, and people liked me. Even if I caught the unsuspecting in the act, I never sold pictures that would ruin or tarnish their names, which made me respected above all others who were in the same lane.

Yara had been paying dues for years but just recently began receiving the type of traction which had her in the spotlight. An upcoming tour and having names like Loco attached to her project thrust her into a new stratosphere. The way her mother had such a tight grasp on her career, it made sense that she was creeping in the shadows with a mystery guy and selected Hef’s Palace as her meet up spot.

Hef’s was a chill vibe, with exclusive VIP sections but also carried a very strict policy about paparazzi. The exclusive parking and entrance made it damn near impossible for anyone to see people coming and going. Any media that wasn’t approvedto be on site faced legal repercussions. Capturing Yara and her mystery guy on camera would gain a lot of traction which was why Joe was willing to pay me to get the shots. As much as I would have preferred to stay lounged on my sofa for the rest of the night, I showered, dressed in something that would fit Hef’s dress code—fitted black jeans, a sheer tank top and lace bra, a black leather jacket—and was out of my apartment an hour later.

As soon as I arrived at Hef’s, I once again regretted accepting the job. The general parking lot was full which wasn’t all that surprising. I had to park across the street in the alternate lot which I didn’t consider when selecting heeled leather boots. By the time I made it to the door and surveyed the cluster of people lining the building, I decided to try my hand at fast talking my way inside. Instead of taking my rightful place in line like the others, I headed straight for the gatekeeper. A six foot plus, three-hundred-pound guy who looked like he hadn’t smiled in decades.

He didn’t disappoint when I stepped in front of him. He barely spared me a glance before turning his focus back to the next person waiting. “Line’s back there.”

I flashed a smile. “You are correct, but the entrance is right here. I’d much rather prefer going in now over waiting in that line.”

He turned his eyes on me, doing a quick sweep. Approval flickered in his eyes but my purposefully planned attire and seductive smile didn’t win me any favor. The guy didn’t budge and instead motioned to the next group of women. “So would they. Wait your turn or don’t get in. Choice is yours.”

Shit, shit, shit…

I tugged my glossed lip between my teeth and glanced at the line, doing a quick round of mental math. There was no way in hell I would stand out here for an hour just to go in and do ten minutes’ worth of work.

“Or I could slide right on in there since I’m already up here. No harm, no foul.”

He grunted, turned away from me, and moved to the two women impatiently waiting on us to wrap up the conversation. One of them rolled her eyes and extended two twenties to pay the cover charge.

I was seconds from addressing her when I felt someone move behind me and an arm draped around my waist. My body went into defensive mode until he spoke and I recognized the voice—my ex, Neshawn. I hadn’t thought about him since the night he was arrested for having an illegal firearm which he pulled on a guy at a club. He ended up in handcuffs and I ended up in an Uber heading home because we had arrived together.

“Been gone for a year and I see ain’t shit changed. You’re still out here trying to hustle your way into places you don’t belong.”

I grinned and relaxed, tilting my head back. “Who says I don’t belong?”

He smirked and motioned toward the line. “Everybody you’re trying to cut in front of.”

---