Page 21 of Love's Most Wanted
“Brother always talking to me about investing my money into shit that will make me money while I sleep.” He leaned against the small kitchen counter that made him look even bigger.
I turned away from him promptly, hating how much I admired his looks. Even worse, he was funny, and any man who could make a woman laugh was dangerous.
“Smart brother, whichever one that is.” I checked the bathroom then walked back out.
“Sif. So what you think?”
“I like it. I will take it. You didn’t give me time to hit the bank though.”
“Give it to me when you can. It comes with moving services too.” When I gave him a look, he shrugged as if it were out of his hands. “Aye, this is how the shit goes. I ain’t have nothing to do with it. I ain’t throwing in extra shit or giving you this for a cheap ass price ’cause you pretty, love.”
“Shut up.” I couldn’t help but smile.
He thought I was pretty? Not that I wasn’t, but the women I’d seen Unique go for were typically dark skinned, brown skinned. I was straight up light skinned, so I never thought of myself as his type.
“You like light-skinned girls?” I posed it as a joke, but I was truly wondering.
“I like black women.” He folded his arms, and his steady eye contact made me look away as I nodded.
He showed me more of the amenities of the building, then we left, him stopping by the bank with me so I could pull the one thousand dollars out of my account.
Seeing my balance of only three hundred dollars left caused my stomach to sink, but I wouldn’t complain. Some people didn’t even have enough money to pay first and last. Plus, this would all change once I booked some clients, even if I had to stand on the corner with a sign and a chair offering my services.
“What you doing for the rest of the night?” Unique asked as he sat in his car outside of my building. I’d already parked my car and got out, walking along the sidewalk.
Looking down at him in his car, I said, “Pack the rest of my stuff for the movers in two days. Remember?”
“Need some help?”
“No. You need to tend to your women, Unique, not continue to help me. But thank you, and have a good night.” I turned to walk off before allowing him to give me a response.
AJ was the first and last time a nigga would make me a side chick. And I’d be damned if I became one to two bitches.
The next week…
“Okay, that was perfect! Let’s take a quick intermission!” the director, Oscar, yelled out as soon as we finished up the scene of AJ’s and my character having a heated argument in the trap house.
“Great job, Unique.” Oscar nodded to me, patting my shoulder as he bypassed.
I caught AJ sneering a little bit at the comment, and he tried to quickly wipe the hating ass look from his face. I knew the muthafucka thought he was fooling somebody, but I’d peeped the looks, snide comments, and the way he shifted uncomfortably whenever a nigga got a compliment on my work. I ain’t give a fuck though—him hating wasn’t gon’ stop the success. In fact, it fueled the shit.
“’Preciate that,” I replied, even though Oscar was walking off. Little did he know, my great performance was partially my acting skills, and the other half was because I actually had a bone to pick with AJ. “Aye, let me holla at you.” I tapped AJ, who was about to tread off the set.
“What’s good?” he asked, his mood a little somber, which was expected after his whole life blew up for the world.
However, Zosia didn’t appear to be divorcing the nigga, so at least he still had that. I wasn’t privy to what was going on with them behind closed doors, though, and didn’t care to know. My only fucking concern was Kabrina, despite the fact that I shouldn’t have even cared.
“I’m gon’ need you to chill out on Kabrina. I get you upset, but you fucked up. Trying to evict her and snatch shit back that you gave her is some pussy shit.” I spoke honestly and much more calmly than I wanted to since, at the end of the day, a nigga was still at work.
He chuckled mirthlessly, glancing off before focusing back on me. “Man, I ain’t done none of that. I told her she could keep the apartment and the car for as long as she needed it.” He shook his head. “See, that’s what she does though, she lies.”
“Shelies?” I frowned. “Nigga, you hid a whole wife from her, and you got the muthafuckin’ nerve to call her a liar?”
“Look, I’m just calling it like I see it, homie. She be lying, and I low-key think she knew I had a wife and still wanted to get fucked by a famous nigga anyw?—”
His sentence was interrupted when I grabbed his ass up by his collar, shoving him into the table that sat in the middle of the fake kitchen. The loud sound of the wooden chairs scraping across the mock kitchen tile caused everyone on set to look our way, but I didn’t really give a fuck in the moment.
“Watch yo’ fuckin’ mouth, nigga. Like I said, leave Kabrina be and stop trying to force her to become ya fucking doormat.” I tossed his stick leg ass, and he immediately came back at me.
