Page 125 of Are You Going to Love Me

“What’s up ni-” Julius started, en route to MB, but corrected himself as Daysha spun to look at him. “Bro. I was going to say, bro, Lotus.”

“Mmhmm. Got my babies saying nigga like they’re about to make an album,” she huffed before turning back toward Eden and Staysha.

“What’s going on, bro?” Maximus greeted with a half-brotherly hug. “This is my lady, Eden. E, this is Lucci and his lady, Day.”

Daysha beamed. Eden was taken aback by her beauty. In tandem, the women spoke. “You are beautiful.”

Eden’s cheeks heated. “Thank you. You’re stunning. Staysha told me you were beautiful, but my goodness.”

Daysha laughed, her cheeks blushing as she leaned in to offer Eden and Staysha some news. “It’s the pregnancy hormones. He got me again.”

“Oh, congratulations,” Eden and Staysha hummed softly.

“Thank you. Let’s leave them here, and I’ll take y’all out back to meet the rest of the crew.”

Trailing behind, Staysha nudged Eden. “You’re moving on up.”

Eden and Staysha were introduced to the women.

“Davina LeRoux, the mastermind behind Beatsville and the Summer Fest, Olivia, filmography extraordinaire, Yanni, beauty spa franchiser, and beauty brand mogul. Ladies, this is Eden Sage, model, actress, brand influencer, and MB’s lady. Staysha Sage, PR and brand specialist, responsible for both Trae MB’s climb and Eden’s shine.”

“You’re giving me far too much credit,” Staysha spoke, taking the lead and hugging the women, knowing that Eden, in new settings, sometimes had the habit of going back into her shell.

“I almost started looking for who she was talking about,” Eden joked, thankful Staysha took the lead.

“You two are dope as fuck,” Davina spoke. “I’ve been following y’all. Your story is amazing.”

“Oh, the story,” Yanni buzzed, handing the women a flute of champagne. “Give me the tea.”

Staysha looked at Eden, and they both laughed as they took a seat. “Go ahead, sister.”

“Long story short – we were living our lives in the trenches before MRA signed me to model.”

Olivia groaned. “Girl. All of us, well, Yanni and I, know the trenches all too well. Daysha is a Cashmere Lakes girly, but she’s tough and Davina is a third-generation Monarch. I’m a second-generation Prophet, before the gangs called a truce and squashed the bullshit. You don’t have to give us the cute for TV version. You’re Poppi’s girls, and everyone from coast to coast has respect for Poppi. Own that shit.”

“I’m sorry, gang shit is really getting next to me as of late,” Eden admitted.

Davina spoke up. “Gang shit is always going to be gang shit. We all got men with deep ties to the streets. Even Rolani. It’s not who or what we are, it’s simply where we came from. The places that gave us our grit and resilience. You need that shit for this industry you and your man and your sister are kicking in the door to. You are Trae Way, you say that shit with your chest.”

“Along with all the shit you had to do to survive,” Yanni added. “When I met Ro, my shop and my house was locked up tighter than Fort Wraith because the nigga I was with wanted to control me. I’ve never shied away from saying that when I met Ro, I saw dollar signs. I was trying to survive, get back on my feet, and not be the friend who always needed someone to bail me out. Today, I’m teaching women how to open their businesses, apply for loans and grants, do their business taxes, and be their own bosses.”

“We had to survive, didn’t we?” Staysha prompted, looking at Eden.

“We did.”

Staysha gave her another assuring nudge. “I’m proud of you.”

“Same.”

The night went on, dinner, dessert, the groups breaking off again, and Eden found herself taking a moment to be still and take in everything. It was Daysha’s soft voice that got her attention.

“Can I share some space with you?” Daysha posed.

“Sure, it’s your home, I’m just a guest,” Eden hummed, scooting over so Daysha could sit by her. “Thank you for having us.”

“Oh, girl, after Jules came back from La Bega, I knew we had to make this happen. How are you adjusting to it all?”

“One minute, I think I have a handle on it. The next, I’m arrested by nerves and worry. How have you done it?”

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