Page 10 of Love's Most Wanted
“Okay, Daniella. I didn’t know that AJ was married. I mean, I think that is obvious by the video. No one knew except the people working onDough Boyzso?—”
“Well, we don’t know that.”
“I’mtellingyou that though.”
“I understand, but Kerry no longer requires your services. As stated, you can keep the booking fee.”
Suddenly, I remembered who Zosia was, and Kerry probably didn’t want her career fucked with by using me. Could’ve been that or all the backlash I’d been getting nonstop for fucking a married man, especially the husband of sweet, innocent Zosia Jared née Tillman.
The main narrative was that I should’ve known better because he’s a man, and men are irresponsible. Anything to blame the woman.
It was like no one acknowledged that her being married to AJ was news to us all. Before I cut myself off from social media, I saw someone state that they didn’t believe for one second that I didn’t know since we were all in the same circle.
“Is there any way I can speak with her? I need?—”
“She’s standing right here and has declined to speak with you. Have a good day, Kabrina.” Daniella hung up before I could conjure up anything to say in response.
I needed that money. That was supposed to help me pay for my apartment, all my expenses that declined on that credit card, as well as keep me afloat for a bit until I booked my next job.
After getting a new car, paying first and last, movers, and all my expenses, shit would be tight for me until I got another big job. It would be fine though. At least I wasn’t broke and could manage. I would just have to try to get more bookings than usual.
It seemed like these past two weeks were truly testing my faith.
SOME DAYS LATER…
After puttingmy whip in park, I climbed out while shaking my head at Asif’s big ass house. The shit was dope and something that was definitely on my list to obtain.
While I was far from broke, I was what a nigga liked to call lightweight rich. I wasn’t balling as much as my older brothers, but I would be, so long as I stayed focused on my goals at hand. I didn’t spend frivolously, and I saved a lot, and even once I hit shit big, I would continue that.
“What’s good?” Asif answered the door, peeping around me like I came with the Feds as he dapped me up. That was Sif, though, always on the lookout and head on a swivel.
“Nothing much. Smell good as fuck in here.” I looked around the vast ass foyer. “What is that?”
“Hell if I know.” He shrugged, closing the door. “That’s Anastazia. Perks of having a woman in the home, nigga.”
“Yeah, that’s why I gottwo,” I replied, making him chuckle as we tread somewhere. I was just following along, not knowing where we were going.
We ended up at one of his three den areas, and when I peered inside, I spotted a pregnant Anastazia and their daughter, Sophie, seated like a queen and a princess while their feet sat in some elaborate ass pedicure tub. Squatted down in front of them were two ladies working on their feet. Two more were beside them, fixing their hands.
“You need anything before my meeting?” Asif inquired after pecking Sophie’s cheek, focusing his attention on his fiancée.
“No.” She smiled, shaking her head with a starry-eyed ass smile. You would think Asif was about some shit with the way she was looking up at the nigga.
The sight made me smirk as I busied myself with dapping up little Sophie, who sat like her mother, getting her toes painted while she held onto a glass of what appeared to be sparkling apple juice. Asif was gon’ raise her to be a problem for niggas with her tiny, spoiled ass.
She was a lucky little girl, just like Amir would be a lucky little boy. It brought back the memories of my brothers and me having Prime.
“Aight, let me know. I got the phone on for you always,” Asif replied, pecking her, then her belly and waving for me to follow him out.
I quickly hugged Anastazia and touched her belly as she giggled before I trailed after him.
“You got me over here knowing you got a meeting?” I questioned, slightly irritated since I’d told this muthafucka I had some shit to talk to him about.
While I had five other brothers, Asif was the one I went to mostly to vent about shit. Though he and I were only a year apart, he had an older vibe to him, which was why our brothers would often call him their little big brother.
“It’s some quick shit.” He went into his office, and I followed, my eyes landing on a smiley ass white man who grinned upon seeing us. “My bad. I had to make sure my lady was fully occupied.”
“No worries.” The man nodded with a smile. Whatever he was here for, Asif was blowing big fucking racks; I could tell by this nigga’s constant cheesing.
