Page 8 of The Prettiest Outlaw

Besides, it seemed to me like a lot of men expected women to wine, dine, and woo them. I was raised by Gianni Outlaw. I didn’t have the “woo a nigga” gene. I had the “fuck that nigga” gene.

Any guy that came for me was going to have to be an old school dude, like aI don’t wear capri pants, carry a purse, polish my nails, or sit back while my woman comes out of her walletdude, a dude who was cut from a cloth that they didn’t seem to make men from anymore.

“You can’t go through the profiles of the men who come to you for matchmaking services and just match yourself to them?” It seemed so logical to me.

“That’s a little unethical, boo.” Her giggle was followed by a small burp.

“Who cares? Show up at his door, and tell him that his date canceled at the last minute, and since you have a customer satisfaction guarantee, you need to make sure he gets the date he was promised.”

Her eyes lit up. “Be fucking for real.”

“I am for real.”

“Anyway.” She waved me off with a dismissive flick of her hand. “How was Iredia? Did you spend your week hopping off and on Iredian dick?”

I knew she expected me to laugh, so I gave a phony chuckle. The truth was I hadn’t slept with any men in Iredia. I’d spent the week with Julianna—talking to her, loving on her, pampering her, putting her first, and having sex with her.Since losing my father, the things that used todo itfor me were no longer doing it.

Dropping stacks at boutiques, curating my roster of dick on demand, hopping on and off dicks, clubbing and partying, drinking to excess, those things were no longer the essence of me. They didn’t honor my father’s legacy or what he put into me. Those things wouldn’t make him proud or cause him to smile. And more than that, they didn’t bring me peace. One thing my father’s death had taught me was to make my place where peace could be found.

There was no peace for me in the presence of a man that I only desired as a means of sexual satisfaction. I would only find peace in the presence of a man who gave me soul satisfaction…spirit satisfaction. Anything else, I didn’t have the energy for.

Another thing I had found was that my slow transformation away from Julianna, the party girl, was mine alone. Nobody else could tell that I was different. They didn’t see the change. They treated me like I was the same person I’d always been, and I didn’t know how to stop them from doing that. I didn’t know how to get them to stop inviting me out when they could invite the friend who would appreciate the invitation and not just tolerate it.

I took another small sip of champagne before sitting my glass in a drink holder. “To be honest, I spent the entire week laying on the beach. I didn’t entertain anybody, except my therapist when she called for our scheduled app?—”

“Oh my gosh!” Her exclamation reverberated through the car. I had lost her attention to her phone. “Attendees are already posting pictures of the gala. Xavier Mayhew, the wide receiver from the Portland Pioneers is there. So is Nasir Payne, the music producer. And is that Christian Upton? Brittanie has all the heavy hitters at this event. I really need to leave here with a man tonight.”

“Well, I hope not with any of the men you mentioned because they’re all married.”

She sighed. “Nah. I don’t want anybody’s husband. I want my own man.”

“Fingers crossed.” I did my best to remain supportive and upbeat, even though I really wanted to be at home, snuggled under my blanket on the sofa.

The car pulled to a stop in front of the venue. For roughly four hours, I would need to put on a fake personality and an even faker smile.

* * *

TheMismanaged AngelsFundraiser and Gala was held just north of Downtown Chicago at the Manor Montimiere. It was a gorgeous restyled and reimagined mansion that had once belonged to one of Chicago’s early railroad barons. From what I understood, Dominic Hill became interested in the place at the behest of his wife.

Apparently, Brittanie had coveted the beautiful residence since she was a child, and after finding out that the only way black people had ever garnered entrance to the esteemed estate had been through the back doors and in servitude, her fascination with the place faltered.

Over the years, the mansion changed ownership over and over. At one point, the owners had sectioned off the large home and parceled it out into awkward apartments. When it went on the market for a rock-bottom price, Dominic scooped it up and presented it to Brittanie as a wedding gift. The story was romantic as hell, and the newly renovated manor rose up from the busy Gold Coast neighborhood of Chicago like a fairy castle.

Ravyn was grinning from ear to ear the moment we left the cozy confines of the Mercedes Benz. I wrapped my arms around myself as we hustled toward the door of the venue because the winter temperature was frigid as hell.

Once inside, Ravyn and I dropped our coats off at the coat check and made our way inside the ballroom. I couldn’t deny that the room was lovely. I had attended Brittanie’s fundraiser for the last couple of years. Each year, she went with a different theme, but each year, the room was equally amazing.

This year, she called the themeForgotten Flora—A Secret Garden. The large ball room had been transformed into an intimate garden setting. Greenery, potted plants, and trees, both large and small, sprouted up. Fairy lights and LED balloons came down from the ceiling, giving the room an ethereal feel. The aromas from the floral arrangements wafted through the air, giving off a heady scent. The round tables were draped with creamy, ivory-colored tablecloths and decorated with gorgeous place settings.

I let out a sigh. I did a 360 degree turn to take in the room. “This is gorgeous.”

“I know. Everywhere my eyes land, I see something beautiful.” Ravyn pointed off to the side of the ballroom. “Should we grab a drink before we find our table?”

“Yes.”

While the soft sounds of nineties R & B serenaded us, Ravyn and I made our way to the bar.

After Ravyn ordered her prerequisite Honey Bee, the bartender turned her attention to me. I leaned into her space.

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