Long As You Know Who You Belong To (3 page)

 Waitresses were walking around in white pencil
skirts, gold sandals, and white crop tops carrying trays of food
from the menu that consisted of foods like shrimp ceviche shooters,
cubano sandwich sliders, and steak and cornbread tamale bites.
There were hookahs at all the VIP booths, and I had also arranged
for Starbuzz Hookah to give out free hookah pens to all the
attendees. DJ Mo Beatz was starting the night off bumping my
favorite artist of the moment, Future, and people were starting to
filter in. 

 “Ma, this is more dope than I could have
imagined! You did your thing!” 

 Grey slipped his hands around my waist, pulled
me close, and kissed my cheek. I was surprised and delighted at his
show of affection. This nigga had no clue what the heat of his body
was doing to me. And if he put his lips that close to my face
again, I was bound to suck them clean off his face. 

 “Bay-be! You outdid yourself, bitch! This place
is fucking bomb!” I knew the voice behind me immediately. 

 I turned around and saw my best friend, Blu,
strutting over towards us. Blu Buckley, aka Blu Bucks was my bottom
bitch. I’d met her my sophomore year in high school, and we’d been
rocking with each other ever since. She was the definition of a
down ass chick, and she was the only female I had ever really vibed
with. After high school, Blu went down to ATL to get her money up
by stripping in one of the hottest clubs in the country, Magic
City. And she came up, let me tell you. With a body like Melyssa
Ford and a face like Keyshia Dior, Blu was one of the top earners
at the club.  She was banking upwards of five g’s a night and
even more when celebrities stopped through.

After a couple years, she started missing home so I
begged my dad to invest in a strip club. With a little coaxing, he
agreed and I brought Blu home to manage the place. She still did
one night only’s every month, but she was the boss lady now and
doing a damn good job making sure our strip club was the most
exclusive in the city. I supported her, and she always had my
back. 

I ran up to Blu and hugged her. She was dressed in a
beige Herve Leger bandage dress and a pair of coral Yves Saint
Laurent peep toe sandals. Her shoulder length blue bob was bone
straight with a side swept bang, and I didn’t miss the large Stuart
Weitzman hoops dangling from her ears. My bitch was bad.

Blu pulled away from our hug and scoped out Grey over
my shoulder. “Damn, daddy. Who the fuck is that? I need his
number like yesterday!” 

 “Blu, you better back down, bitch. That’s my
nigga now.” 

 “You got it, boss! But since when you get a
man?” 

“Since today, nosy. This is his club. He came through
my office last week and asked me to make his place the new hot
spot. Then he proceeded to woo me with Michael Costello, a personal
hair and make-up team, and the Presidential Bungalow Suite at the
Beverly Hills Hotel.” 

 “Damn! After two weeks? Shit, he got a
brother?” Blu joked. 

 Grey swaggered up to us. “Actually I do.
Ladies, this is my brother Kimani. Kimani this is Nakami, the party
planner and my lady, and her friend...”

 Blu’s eyes lit up at the sight of Kimani. She
extended her hand to him. “Blu. Blu Buckley.” 

 Kimani and Grey’s parents had to have both been
models, because Kimani definitely hadn’t missed out on the beauty
gene. Standing about 6’3” with smooth butterscotch skin, light
green eyes, and slick dark hair, Kimani reminded me a lot of Don
Benjamin from America’s Next Top Model. Unconsciously, he licked
his lips as he looked Blu up and down. He was dressed in a pair of
white jeans, white button down, and cobalt blue blazer. I
recognized the Gucci loafers on his feet and the Rolex watch on his
wrist, so I knew his pockets had to be heavy. I winked at Blu,
signaling my approval of Kimani. 

 “Nice to meet you both.” He smiled revealing
perfectly straight white teeth and one dimple in his left
cheek. 

 “Mmph, I’ve seen you before,” Blue told him.
“Do you come to Clappers often or something?” 

 “That strip club in Hollywood?” he asked her.
“Nah, ma. I heard it be popping though.” He looked Blu over again.
“You got the body for it, but I wouldn’t believe it if you told me
you were a dancer.” 

 “Well, seeing is believing, boo. Don’t let the
corporate face fool you. I was the ass that started the twerk
movement. But I’m the general manager there now.” Blu frowned her
face up and began circling Kimani like an animal surveying its
prey. “This is going to bother me all night.” Blu walked up on him,
getting real close to his face. Grabbing his face with her hand and
turning it to the side, she looked at the collage of tattoos that
were on his neck and she smiled.  “You’re a model. That’s
where I’ve seen you.” 

 “You remembered my tattoo?” 

 “No, I remembered that big ass bulge in them
Calvin Klein’s you were advertising. I just wanted a reason to
touch you.” 

 Kimani grinned. “The way you stretching out the
fabric of that dress with all that ass and hips, not to mention ya
cute ass face, baby girl you don’t need a reason to get close to
me.” Kimani wrapped his hands around Blu’s waist and pulled her
close to his body without breaking eye contact. 

 “Ya’ll wild!” Grey laughed at his brother and
Blu. It looked like the night was off to a great start. 

 Nakami had put on for a nigga. The club was
slapping! She had celebrities coming in and out, the music was
live, and to top it off I was walking around with the baddest bitch
in the state. Press was there snapping pictures and taking video of
red carpet arrivals, and all the gossip sites from Bossip to Necole
Bitchie to Baller Alert were in the building. I knew that South
Beach was already well on its way to becoming the newest spot to
party in LA.  Nakami and I had settled into a secluded booth
in the corner of the club where the waitress had brought us our
passion fruit hookah. We were enjoying each other’s company when
two tall, muscular men appeared at our booth. I reached for the gun
I carry in my waistband, but Nakami gently placed her hand over
mine.

 I recognized the man that appeared from behind
the bodyguards because he was a legend. Dressed in a clean black,
Gucci tuxedo, an untied bow tie, and Salvatore Ferragamo dress
shoes, he exuded power and his presence demanded everyone’s
respect. His skin tone was dark for his Japanese heritage, and his
jet black hair with a thick streak of gray was slicked back with
what looked like an entire tub of gel. To be honest, he looked just
like one of the boss niggas from Rush Hour 2. The long scar that
started at the top of his left eyebrow and ended at the bottom of
his chin was the only thing that made him recognizable to me. Not
that I’d ever seen this man in person a day in my life, but he was
a legend whose stories were the things hood fairytales were made
of. This nigga was epic. But what confused me was why he was here.
I didn’t know the nigga and, from what I’d heard, he didn’t really
make many public appearances. A confused expression blanketed my
face as I wracked my brain trying to figure out why he was at my
shit. I didn't even notice that Nakami had left my side until I saw
her rushing the dude in front of me.

“Daughter, you've done a beautiful job!”  He
congratulated her and wrapped her in his arms.

Daughter? Nakami was Hero Yukimura’s daughter? The
chick whose back I was preparing to break after the party was over
was the daughter of one of the most legendary drug lords of my
time? I wanted to get up and hit my dougie, do the Nae Nae, do a
praise dance, or something! Not only was the chick on my arm bad,
but her family was the plug I needed to get back on top. I had come
up on a gold mine, and I didn’t even know it. I had to play my
cards right, because a hook up this proper could get me straight
for life.

“Thank you, daddy. Daddy, I want to introduce you to
the owner and my client.” Nakami smiled at me sweetly as she pulled
her father by the hand. I stood up to greet him.

“Dad, this is Grey Summers, the owner of this club.
Grey, this is my father, Hero Yukimura.”

I extended my hand to Hero, and we shook. His facial
expression remained like stone as he gave me a once over.

“What do you do for a living, Grey? How can you
afford to rehab a club and pay my daughter’s exorbitant party
planning prices?” He smirked slightly at his last statement. Nakami
playfully hit him in the arm.

“I’m in the trade business. Unfortunately, business
has slowed due to relocation,” I stated, hoping that he caught my
drift.

He remained silent for a moment, and then he nodded
his head. “Is that right? Are you interested in my daughter?”

“Absolutely,” I said without hesitation.

“You're a strong presence, Grey. I too am in the
trade business and may be able to help you get situated. Here is my
business card. Call me Monday to set up a meeting.”

He pulled a card from his back pocket and handed it
to me. I almost grabbed his ass and hugged him. I was too geeked.
Although I had been peeping the scene for four months, as soon as I
had set my sights on making my presence known on the streets things
seemed to be falling into place with little effort. I wasn’t always
the biggest fan of organized religion or church, but someone up
there had to be looking out for a nigga, for real.

“I appreciate it, Mr. Yukimura.”

“Call me Hero. As long as you keep my daughter happy,
your life will be easy. Fuck up and…well...I can promise you won’t
live long enough to regret it.”

I couldn’t argue or be mad at his threat. She was his
daughter and, as desperately as I needed this plug, I wouldn’t do
anything to jeopardize it. I would treat his daughter like the
fucking Queen of England if need be.

“I understand.”

“Now I will leave you to finish celebrating,” Hero
told me. “I wish you success on your club, Grey.”

“Thank you.” We shook hands again, and then Hero
hugged Nakami tightly and placed a kiss on her forehead. He
departed with his security behind him.

 I turned to Nakami. I looked at her differently
now. She wasn’t just the fine ass party planner with the fiery
personality and coke bottle body. She was now my meal ticket, my
lucky charm, my money bag. Just the thought of the money that could
come from linking up with her dad made my dick rise against my
dress pants. Adjusting myself, I pulled Nakami close to me,
breathing in a mixture of her fruity body wash and her spicy
perfume. Without speaking another word, I placed my lips against
hers. Her body loosened against mine, as she got lost in the
kiss.

When I finally pulled away, Nakami's eyes stayed
closed and she smiled a dream-like smile. “He likes you, you
know?”

“Yeah?”

“He doesn’t do business with people off rip like
that. There is something about you, Grey.” She smiled wickedly
before she grabbed my hand, led me back to the cabana style booth,
and closed the curtains.

Nakami

June 2014

“Tristan, please don’t forget to email the Sutter’s
about their wine list. We need that finalized before the end of the
week.” I called out.

Tristan poked her head in my office and smiled. “You
got it, boss. I’m having Kelsey and Leighton pick up the flowers
for tomorrow’s event in the morning, and I’ll meet them at the
venue before seven.”

“Sounds good! Well, I’m about to finalize the board
for that fundraiser pitch, and then I’m going to head out. Can you
start organizing the textiles for the Marco wedding?” I stood from
my chair and started to gather the things I needed for the concept
board. I thought Tristan had left from the doorway until she spoke
again.

“You know, whatever Grey is doing to you…it’
working.” She leaned against the wall with her arms folded across
her chest.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean you’ve been so much more laid back since he’s
been in your life. You’re calmer and more patient. I like this new
you. He must be putting it down, girl!”

Oh hell no! Now I could agree that Grey’s presence
had brought about a calmer, more Zen version of myself, but this
little bitch here had some nerve. I was her boss, not her bff. Who
was dipping in and out of my honeypot was none of her concern. Her
even opening her mouth to comment just pissed me off. If she wanted
me to bring the bitch, back she had just pressed the right buttons
to resurrect her.

“It’s a shame that I have to remind you of this
because I am sure that I haven’t give you any indication otherwise,
but our relationship is a professional one. You are not my friend.
You are my employee. I don’t care what you do outside of these four
walls and you shouldn’t care what I do either,” I spoke.
“Regardless of what or who is responsible for my recent change, we
will not be bonding about it over Caesar salad and white wine
spritzers like two fucking sorority sisters. Mind your business, do
your job and keep your commentary to yourself. Got it?”

Tristan nodded her head and quickly exited my office.
The fuck? I just know this broad didn’t think that I liked her
because I had dialed back the bitch lately. See, Grey had me
fucking up. Got me out here making chicks feel comfortable and
shit. I could feel myself letting my guard down. This man was
making me so happy that I had fucked around and let people think I
was nice. Since Grey and I had started seeing each other, I had
been on cloud nine and it had been hard for me to switch from
doting girlfriend to Devil Wears Prada when I got to work. Now I
had messed around and made a friend. I needed to get it
together.  Thoughts of Grey and I’s earlier steamy text
message exchange swirled around my head, causing me to break out in
a wide grin. With Grey on my mind, I took out my phone to send him
a quick text message.