Page 18 of Siren

“Gallery downtown. Brielle and Jalen set it up.”

He nodded. “She sound as good in person as she does on them live clips?”

“Better.”

“Hmmmm.”

I went on. Told him the label’s plan. The optics. The fake rollout. The way the flashes went off like someone knew exactly when to pull the trigger.

He didn’t say much. Just swirled his whisky.

“She fine?”

I looked up.

He smirked. “I mean… since you ain’t said it yet, I’ll assume it’s messing with you.”

I shook my head. “She’s beautiful. But this ain’t about that.”

He leaned back with an unconvincing look. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

He just sipped again.

Then said, “I ever tell you how I met your mother?”

“Pool hall,” I muttered, already knowing.

He smiled. “Not just a pool hall. Spot called Smokie’s off Chartiers. They sold single joints and liquor. Had wood floors, neon lights, slow cuts in the speakers—vibe was lowkey butsmooth. I was mostly there on business, checking on product. Then she walked in.”

I said nothing. I’d heard it before—but never like this.

“She showed up with her girl, Shalonda. Claimed she wanted to learn to shoot pool. Came straight over to me like she already knew I’d teach her. Tight dress, perfume like sweetness and nerve. But it wasn’t how she looked that caught me. It was the way she looked at me—like she had a secret.”

He chuckled, low. “Told me she needed help lining up a shot. So I gave her the stick, came around, positioned her hands, guided her aim. Let her lean into me. Taught her just enough to keep the lesson going. She didn’t pull away. Not once.”

His eyes turned thoughtful.

“She wanted to see if I’d rush. If I’d push. I didn’t. I let the night stretch out. Gave her time to feel me without me pressing. That’s what made the difference.”

I raised a brow. “That your move?”

“That was the lesson.”

He set his glass down. “Don’t play to win. Play to see who she is when she thinks you’re not playing. That’s how you learn who’s real.”

I nodded slowly, letting that land.

He looked at me. “If she’s got you thinking beyond the mic, beyond the plan—don’t be scared of that. But don’t move like the story’s already been written either.”

“She said she doesn’t do fake.”

“She mean it?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you might be in trouble.”

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