Page 10 of The Perfect Verse
“Fuck, here she comes,” she muttered as Shonasia marched in their direction. “Better yet, let’s take this outside.” It was too late, though, when she blocked them from passing the front desk, standing with one hand hiked on her hip.
“Am I missing something?” she asked, eyeing him. “I know you.” Scooter smiled, then tucked his lips. “Kaleela, do I need to call X ‘cause niggas is really on the wrong side of town? We ain’t that friendly, nigga. Same energy over here. Nothing has changed.”
“Yo, your sister is funny as hell, and I come in peace.”
“The question is, why did you come?” Shonasia crossed both arms, her feet planted. She wasn’t moving until she had answers.
“Can you please tell her I had no clue you were coming?”
“She didn’t.” He looked over at the waiting area. “I brought my annoying ass sister.”
There was Mango, sitting on the edge of her seat, hanging on to every word. She knew her brother and cousin ran in circles around some pretty important people, but seeing Shonasia, the owner of The Palace, was a surprise. She couldn’t help but fan girl her. She was flawless from her long, dark-brown and blonde stresses, her makeup that still gave off a natural look, and casual, but high-end YSL wrapped dress and sandals. Her finger and toenails were covered in a soft, neutral color that gave off a fluorescent look depending on the angle.
“Hello.” She wiggled her fingers and smiled. “I’m Mango, his sister.”
“That’s a cute name,” Kaleela complimented, smiling as Mango blushed.
“Thank you, and, girl, you’re cute too. I see you.” She wagged her tongue at Kaleela’s shiny, black tights and large, yellowoff-the-shoulder top shirt, complemented by her bedazzled Huarache sneakers. “How do you know my brother? Oh, and pay him no mind. He thinks he’s everyone’s daddy. Trust me, I know.”
“What else do you know? That nigga’s coming up here to pay too?” She pursed her lips, rolling her eyes.
“See what I mean? Petty, and that’s just the tip of what you’re in for. Call me, girl. I’ll give you all the tea on how he used to?—”
“Mango, man,” he drawled. “Relax.”
“Whatever.” She then cupped her mouth and whispered, “I’ll leave my number. It will be useful information in times of need, if you know what I mean.”
Kaleela smiled, noticing the resemblance. Mango had the same coffee-colored eyes and long eyelashes Scooter possessed, but she was a shade darker, a mocha complexion. Her quick comebacks and wit didn’t go unnoticed either. She couldn’t imagine what the average day was like growing up in their house. She didn’t have many of those days. He was blessed, and he didn’t even know it.
“Your haters be your own blood.”
“Not me. I’ll kill about that one,” Shonasia countered. She sized him up, and although she’d hate to admit it, he was fine as hell and smelled even better as the citrus-spiced scent danced underneath her nose.
She made a mental note to pull her sister to the side because the last she heard, she had no prospects after Chaney and definitely not a man. The gleam in his eyes told Shonasia all she needed to know; he was interested.
“Kaleela, be careful,” she cautioned her before she gave her eyes to Scooter. “’Cause X still don’t play about me or her.”
“Man, she’s always good whenever she’s around me. Pleasure to meet you, but I ain’t get your name. Rude on my part. I apologize.”
“Shonasia, and a pleasure to meet you too,for now. Mango, I’ll make sure one of my best girls takes care of you. Oh, and it’s on the house.”
“Really?” she squeaked.
“Yeah.” She rolled her eyes at Scooter. “Despite what people think, we do have some class around here.”
“Thank you, Ms. Shonasia.”
“Please, Shonasia is just fine.”
“Oh, Scooter, being related to you is finally paying off,” Mango replied, busily pecking on her cellphone. He already knew what that meant. His mother and sisters would have a play-by-play as if they were there in real time.
“How long do you plan to be here?” he whispered against Kaleela’s ear. He could tell she was private, and he messed with it.
She looked around, realizing it would be at least another hour or two before Rell and Travis were up for their haircuts. As for her, she mostly came to help out with the books. It was something Reagan, X’s sister and her best friend, had taught her when they met in rehab because Reagan was the accountant for his law firm.
“Actually, we were leaving after they got their haircut.”
“They close anytime soon? I want you to kick it with me. The boys can come too.”
