Page 2 of Seek & Destroy

I couldn’t even finish my sentence before he was opening the door and walking out of it. I jumped off the stairs like I was in the Olympics, twisting my ankle on the landing, but I hopped up quickly and ran after him. My only thought was to not let him get inside of his car.

The fear of losing him encased me like a warm blanket as I hobbled behind him until I reached his driver’s side door, slamming my body against it.

“Don’t do this to us, K! I love you. I swear I do! I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you! Please...we can fix this.”

“There’s no fixing this, Esani. You made the bed. Now, you have to lie in it. I’m glad your best friend made me aware of the woman you are. If not, I’m sure I would have made the biggest mistake of my life,” he told me, pushing me to the side and opening the car door.

Tania did this? That fucking bitch!

He paused and looked at me, then reached up and grabbed a manila envelope from the visor and slapped it on my chest.

“I was ready to give you the world. I was just about to wife ya ass...I’m glad you showed me who you really were before I made that mistake. Peace, E.”

With that, he climbed inside of his truck then drove off and, sadly, out of my life.

I watched as his truck pulled off my block, and I turned with my wounded pride to go back inside. Closing the door, I looked inside the envelope and pulled the contents from it.

It was the deed to a house out in Beverly Hills, Michigan, that I told him I wanted to move into, the keys, and a six-carat diamond ring. If the tears from earlier surprised the hell out of me, then the guttural scream that came from within took me over the edge.

The love of my life was gone.

1

Esani Simms

The Past

Summer 2019

“Oh shit.Nina, turn that up. That’s my jam!” my best friend, Tania, yelled as she began belting the lyrics to Karyn White’s “Superwoman.”

“Early in the morning, I put breakfast on your table and made sure that your coffee had its sugar and cream. Your eggs are over easy. Your toast done lightly. All that’s missing is your morning kiss that used to greet me!” She sang into the comb in her hand while looking at me.

I rolled my eyes as I continued focusing on my client’s nails. She knew I hated those sad ass love songs. That’s why she was singing to me, trying to be funny.

My name is Esani Deanna Simms. I was the owner ofAbove All Stylez Hair & Nail Barlocated on the Westside of Detroit. It had always been my dream to do hair and nails. When I was eight years old, I used to watch my mom do hair out of our basement. I would be so fascinated with the end results that I asked my mom to buy me all the materials to do nails and a mannequin head to practice different hair styles. Of course, it took me until the age of twelve to perfect the craft. But after I had gotten the hang of it, I was doing all the neighborhood kids’ hair and nails.

I went to college and got my degree in business and made sure I worked hard to get this place up and running. It was hard at first, but once I had my grand opening, people from all over Detroit came out to show love. It also helped that I had clientele from the days I was doing nails in my mom’s basement. I chose to do nails most of the time because I hated standing on my feet for hours unless the hairstyles paid more than two hundred dollars. Otherwise, I was sitting in my chair, tricking out nails.

“Yessss! Sang it, girl!” My client, Chanel, egged her on as she slightly rocked in her chair.

“Don’t encourage that mess. Girl, turn that down. This is not the club,” I told Nina.

“You’re just a hater! I promise, one day, you’re going to find Prince Charming, and he’s going to turn yo’ ass out. Watch!” Tania exclaimed.

“Girl, please! So I can be around here singing shit like this? Tuh, just wait on it. I don’t love these hos,” I said with a laugh.

“That’s an immutable fact. E stay having the niggas!” Hanna, another stylist, chimed in.

That was true. I had a nigga for every day of the week because, according to my mother, Shania Simms, men didn’t love women for real. In her words, it would be all good in the honeymoon phase of the relationship, but after year four, the hearts and flowers would be replaced with dirt and weeds. She instilled in me to never give my heart to a man unless I wanted to know what death felt like. So, I played these men like fiddles and continued to live my best life. Hell, men did it all the time—jump from woman to woman, pretend to love us, and leave us for the next chick. Why did women have to be called hos if we did the same?

The chiming of the door pulled my attention from placing the stones on Chanel’s ring finger. The tall, brown, and extremely handsome man that walked in had me in a temporary daze. He was dressed in all black—a button-up that was tucked inside of his slacks that I knew for sure were Tom Ford, his belt, and Ferragamo shoes. He wore an Audemars timepiece on his wrist. He coolly swaggered over to the receptionist’s desk, where Danita was supposed to be, but I was sure she was somewhere stuffing her pregnant belly. I watched him as he signed in before diverting my eyes back to Chanel’s finger. Although I kept working, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. He definitely had the attention of my staff as well as the clients. I could hear the whispers of everyone wondering who he was. I rarely ever got male clients, so him showing up here looking extra delicious had all of these bitches’ panties wet. He took a seat and placed one lean leg over his knee as he reached for The Source magazine.

“Sabrina, can you take over for me?” I asked the witty nail tech who didn’t have a client in her chair. She nodded as I stood up and walked to the front of the shop, being sure to put a little twist in my hips as I approached him.He’s definitely my type.

“Hi. Welcome toAbove All Stylez. I’m Esa. What can I do for you today?”

“Good afternoon, Ms. Esa. I just want to get a manicure and pedicure today.” His vernacular instantly made my pussy wet.

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