Page 38 of Can't Get Enough

“Oh, yeah?” She sounds a little distracted, and I wonder if it’s a bad time.

“It’s about Maverick.”

The silence on the other end stretches out for a few seconds, but it’s alert and tight. “What about him?” She doesn’t sound distant anymore. It sounds as if she’s right beside the phone now.

“He’s interested in possibly investing in my venture capital fund for Black women–led businesses, and I just wanted you to know since… since you guys—”

“Just broke up?” Zere’s laugh is short and sharp, the tip of a knife. “Believe me. You’re probably the only one treading lightly about that subject. I get asked several times a day what happened. I’m sick of people digging into my business.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have even mentioned it, except he’ll be coming to Atlanta for our fund’s showcase and I didn’t want you to think there was anything going on. I wanted you to know since you and I are working together, too.”

She giggles. “You mean that I might think the two ofyouhad something going? That’s hilarious, Hen.”

Hilarious?Before I can ask why the concept of her ex-boyfriend and me being attracted to each other is so damn funny, she tells me in no uncertain terms.

“You’re not his type at all.”

“Not his type?” I should leave it there. I don’t want her thinking Iamhis type. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he likes women who are…” She must hear her feet squishing in the shit she just stepped in.

It’s a ridiculous notion to her that a man like Maverick would be drawn to someone like me; that I, a plus-sized woman, could pose a threat to her. Her unspoken assumption doesn’t offend me. It doesn’t hurt. I grew up with careless adults telling me I was pretty for a big girl or for a brown girl. My parents made sure I always felt beautiful in my skin and in my body. They instilled a confidence in me that not even the thoughtless words of this beautiful woman can dent.

“He goes for women like you, right?” I fill in her awkward gap. “Thin? Mixed chicks? Long, curly hair?”

“Oh, gosh, Hendrix, no. I didn’t mean it like that.” In her haste to fix it, her words tumble over each other. “I just meant that I know you would never do that to me. And he wouldn’t either for that matter.”

“Got it.” I whoosh out a short breath and push a smile into my voice. “Well, I just wanted to keep the air clear between us by letting you know in case you saw him in a photo on socials from the event or something. That you would have context.”

“I might have wondered about it, but wouldn’t have jumped to any conclusions. I’m glad you told me, though. I appreciate it.”

“Okay, well, when I start hearing back from my contacts about the show, I’ll let you know.”

“Same here. Thanks again, Hendrix.”

We disconnect and I hold the phone in my palm for a few seconds. We’ve set the details for the showcase. I could just have Skipper contact Maverick.

You text me.

The man’s probably the wealthiest potential limited partner on our list. I’d pay special attention to any other LP with the kind of capital Maverick has. It’s not different.

Me:Hey. You asked me to let you know when the showcase details were set. It’s going to be in three weeks here in Atlanta.

Silence and no bubbles or movement for a few seconds.

Me:Oh, it’s Hendrix, by the way.

Maverick:Hi, Hendrix by the way. Good to hear from you.

I don’t even physically hear his voice, and yet my imagination purrs it in my ear.

Maverick:Did you tell Zere about my interest?

In the fund, Hendrix. He means interest in the fund, of course.

Me:Yes, she was fine with it.

Maverick:I knew she would be, but glad you let her know.

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