Long As You Know Who You Belong To (6 page)

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BOOK: Long As You Know Who You Belong To
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“Thank you for the flowers.”

“No doubt. You ready to go?”

“Yeah, one second.” I walked over to the concierge
desk. “Brent, could you take these up to my place, put them in some
water, and set them on the foyer table? There should be some vases
underneath the kitchen sink.” I handed him the bouquet.

“No problem, Miss. Buckley. Have a good night.”

 Kimani and I walked out of my apartment
building and approached his Range. He opened the door for me, and I
slid in while he walked around and hopped in on his side. We pulled
off with some Miguel playing on low and the sunroof open displaying
the starry sky.

Kimani glanced over at me and smiled.

“What?” I asked, starting to feel shy again under his
gaze.

“Why you seem so nervous? You were bold as fuck when
we met at my brother’s party, and now you’re all quiet.”

I giggled. “You’re going to laugh if I tell you the
real reason.”

“Try me.”

“I’ve never been on a real date.”

He was quiet. A perplexed look fell over his face and
when he could afford to take his eyes off the road to look at me,
he did. “What you mean you’ve never been on a real date?”

“I’ve never been. Like when a dude picks me up, takes
me to do shit, pays for it, and takes me to the crib. I’ve never
been on a date.” Having to break it down like that was
embarrassing.

“Why not?” he asked.

I opened my mouth to speak, but what was I going to
say? That I was a reformed hoe who no one respected enough to ask
out on a real date? That I was better known as a one-hitter-quitter
in most niggas books? The fact that I had already admitted that I’d
never been taken out was embarrassing enough.

“You know what? It don’t even matter. You’re going to
have your first official date tonight, and I’ll make it one you
won’t forget.” He winked at me.

Surprised but elated that he didn’t further press the
issue, I smiled and relaxed against the soft peanut butter colored
leather seats.

 

****

         
“Kimani! What are we doing? We can’t go in here. It’s closed!” I
looked at him like he had fucking lost it when he dragged me to the
entrance of the Santa Monica Pier. It was damn near midnight, and I
just knew this nigga wasn’t about to have me doing no illegal
shit.

The date had been hella bomb so far. He’d taken me to
Mastro’s in Beverly Hills, and their food was delish. After dinner,
we roamed around Beverly Hills until we found a bar we liked and
stopped in to talk and grab some drinks.

I’d learned a lot about Kimani, and I was definitely
impressed. He’d told me all about his life growing up with Grey in
Detroit and the death of his girlfriend that lead him to
California. He’d put in a lot of work to make it in the modeling
world—taking gigs with little known designers, building his
portfolio, and doing practically taking anything he could just so
that he could get the attention of a modeling agency. When he
signed on with Stephanie Diego, she’d told him that his charm and
personality would get him more than a few print and runway gigs.
Now he was pursuing a career in acting. I found myself feeling
proud of this man that I had just met. We were a lot alike, and I
was really enjoying his company.

“Girl, stop being such a damn scaredy cat,” he
laughed.

A few moments later, a man walked up to the gate,
unlocked the padlock, and ushered us in. Confused, I stepped past
the gate and instantly the whole pier lit up. Kimani took my hand
and led me to the cotton candy stand, where there was a man
standing behind the counter.

“What is all this?” I asked.

“When you said that you had never been on a date
before, I knew I had to make this shit live. I know some people
that know some people that like making a little money on the side,
so they let us come to enjoy the pier after hours.” He laughed and
I joined him. “But seriously, I can’t understand why the niggas
you’ve messed with before never noticed how special you are and how
deserving you are of something dope.”

I blushed even harder than before. This man was
something else.

“So, we got this whole thing to ourselves. What you
wanna do first?” he smirked.

I stood there speechless. I was blown away that,
after only knowing me for a short amount of time, he cared enough
to try and make an impression. I didn’t understand what I had done
to deserve someone like him, but I sent a quick one up to God
saying thank you. My only fear was that I would let the anxiety
inside me stifle what this could grow into. Knowing me and my cold
heart, I would end up ruining this before it got started good. But
tonight, I would just go with it. 

 

 

Nakami
July 2014

I walked onto the porch and used one of my ornately
decorated stiletto nails to press the doorbell. I watched as the
maid came flying into the foyer, walked up, and opened the large
wrought-iron doors.

“Good Afternoon, Ms. Yokimura. Your father is waiting
for you on the patio.” Phylicia smiled widely and greeted me with
open arms. I embraced her and stepped back to introduce her to
Grey.

“Phylicia, this is my boyfriend, Kendrick Summers,
but you can call him Grey. Grey, this is Phylicia, my old nanny and
my dad’s housekeeper.”

Grey smiled and extended his hand for her to shake.
She ignored his hand and pulled him into her wide and ample bosom,
smothering him with affection.

“You’re such a beautiful man. You all will have such
pretty babies!” she exclaimed.

“I sure hope to have a house full of them,” I laughed
as I turned to Grey. The grimace that flashed on his face didn’t go
unnoticed.

He recovered well; smiling and ignoring her comment.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Well c’mon here. You know Hero is not a patient
man.” She waved at us to follow her. We walked through the spacious
new home that my father had recently purchased and trailed Phylicia
to the patio area. Laid in expensive stone and overlooking a deep
blue infinity pool, the patio was gorgeous. It was a perfect summer
day out, and my father had hired a chef to cater lunch for this
meeting with Grey. I was excited for them to sit down and talk. I
stepped outside, the light wind picking up the hem of my off white
ABS fit and flare dress. My father’s eyes lit up at the sight of
me.

“Daughter. It’s so good to see you.” He reached out
for a hug and held me close. I inhaled the scent of his Acqua De
Parma cologne and smiled. He pulled away from me and greeted
Grey.

“Grey, it’s nice to see you again.” The men shook
hands, and Grey mirrored my father’s sentiments.  “Come. I’ve
had the chef prepare us a wonderful meal.”

We joined my father at the large outdoor table that
was decorated like Martha Stewart was his hired help. There was
food everywhere. My father had the chef made my favorite Japanese
dish, Takoyoki, which is basically fried octopus smothered in
Takoyaki sauce and Japanese mayo, and topped with a sprinkle of
dried green seaweed and katsuobushi. There was also plenty of
sushi, shrimp and chicken stir-fry, rice, and steamed vegetables. I
hadn’t had a home-cooked Japanese meal in a while, so I was quick
to dive in while Grey and my father preferred to talk a little
business.

“So, Grey, I have inquired about you. I understand
that your well has dried up since your connect was busted. Was that
what prompted your move to LA?”

“Yes. I tried a few more avenues while at home, but
none of the product was worth the money they were asking for it. My
old plug was the truth and if I can’t get the same or better
product, it wouldn’t be worth my time.”

I shoveled a forkful of food into my mouth as I
watched them talk. Their conversation faded, as my thoughts became
louder and louder. Grey was the most amazing man I’d ever met.
Sure, we’d only met a few months ago but he was my future, and
couldn’t anyone tell me any different. Let me just run down the
list of reasons why I was falling in love with this man and
quickly.

For one, he was gorgeous and he matched my fly. He
already had my taste down to a science, and he had been spoiling me
left and right with high-priced designer items to wear, handbags,
and jewels. I hated a nigga that thought that a white tee and some
J’s were all there was to life. Grey understood the necessity of
fashion and could make damn near anything look good. His broad
shoulders, flat stomach, and gorgeous face should have been gracing
magazines and televisions all around the world, but the thug in him
was strong. And I loved it.

Secondly, he was smart. It was not often that you ran
across a true street nigga who used to get straight A’s in school
and had already finished his bachelor’s degree. True, he always had
one leg in the streets, but his effort in the classroom was what
had eventually led him to becoming the smart business man that he
was. He’d earned his B.A. with a major in Business Management right
out of high school from Eastern Michigan University, and he
continued to seek out and absorb knowledge. Most didn’t understand
how big of an edge it was to have a college degree behind you, even
in the business of selling drugs. It makes it easier for you to
hide. 

Lastly, well not really lastly because I could go on
and on, but Grey had that work. I knew that I was bomb in the
bedroom but in the few short months we had been kicking it, Grey
had taught me more than a trick or two. Where I normally was
dominant, Grey had a way of making me submissive. I catered to his
every need and obeyed his every command. There was nothing that he
wanted that I wouldn’t give to him and vice versa. 

I’ll admit it. As I watched Grey and my father
converse, I knew that I was crazy in love with the thug with the
smoky grey eyes. He was unlike any one I had ever encountered. Now
that I had landed him officially, there was no way I was going to
let him go. Whatever I needed to do to keep him by my side, I would
do. Kendrick “Grey” Summers belonged to me. 

 

 

Kimani
July 2014

“You’re pyscho, bruh!”

I heard the yelling all the way down at the curb
where I parked my white 2015 Range Rover Sport. I hopped out and
jogged up the driveway to see what was going on. When I approached
the door, there was shit everywhere. Clothes, shoes,
electronics—all of it broken, bleached, or shredded. Grey was
standing in front of the closed front door, yelling and
screaming.

"What the fuck?" I mumbled as I picked up a Jordan
Flight 97 shoe that was shredded beyond recognition.

"Bruh, today might be the day I go to jail! Over that
nutcase in there!" 

I saw Grey reach into his waistband, and I rushed
over to him and grabbed his arm. He grimaced and tried to yank his
arm out of reach, but I held firm. “Aye, you got too much to lose
bruh.”

Grey looked at me for a few moments as he tried to
calm down. His eyes had turned a charcoal shade of gray, a clear
indicator that he had crossed the line between anger and rage. His
breathing slowed, and he tore away from me. “Look at this shit! All
my shit is fucked up because that bitch is mental. She thinks that
I’m fucking around with some other chick!”

“Are you?"

“No, man! I got too much shit going on to be worried
about chasing down another chick."

“Aight, then. Look, you got more than enough money to
buy some new shit, and you too pretty to go to jail. So calm down,
nigga. C’mon. Ride out with me.”

Grey looked at the mess that was littered across his
front porch and lawn and shook his head.

“Yeah, aight. Cuz if I stay here, she’s liable to get
a hot one in her dome.”

We walked to my car and hopped in. I cranked up
Future’s
Codeine Crazy
and peeled off. Grey rested his head
against the white leather headrest and sighed deeply. “I don't know
how long I can keep doing this, man.”

For the last month or so since he had been fucking
with Nakami, all that seemed to emanate from their relationship was
drama. If she wasn’t taking his phone to try and call unstored
numbers back, she was breaking dishes and shit off of some shit she
thought she knew about. She never had any facts, but she was always
flipping out. I couldn’t understand why my brother was putting up
with it.

“Why are you?”

“I’m in business with her father. I’m back on.”

I skirted past a slow moving car in the far right
lane and sped through the yellow light. “Man, what? What about the
club?”

“What about the club? You know me, man. The club is
cool and so far it’s bringing in good money, but it’s not fast
enough for me. You know I’m used to being that nigga, and I can't
be out here waiting to recoup the money that I put into the club.
That’s going to take too long. Nakami’s father is Hero Yukimura,
man.”

I remained quiet. Blu had told me about Nakami’s
father, and I had honestly hoped that, after all the shit that went
down in Detroit, Grey would have had sense enough not to get knee
deep in the game again. But I knew deep down inside that Grey was a
hood nigga that couldn’t leave the streets alone. As dope as South
Beach was, it didn’t carry enough excitement to sustain my brother.
Plus, stumbling up on a connect so proper was like a sign from God,
so I couldn’t say that I blamed him.

“Yeah, Blu told me.”

“So, what's going on with you two? Ya’ll been hanging
kind of tough lately.” A goofy grin covered Grey's face as he
changed the subject.

“I don't know, man. She’s cool as fuck. I like
her.”

Truth was, I was starting to fall for her. But I
couldn’t tell my brother that. He already thought I was an ol’
R&B cupcake ass nigga, and I knew for sure he would clown me if
he knew how I felt for Blu after the short amount of time I’d known
her. Plus, the way I was feeling about her scared the shit out of
me. It was too soon to be so dizzy off a chick, and I had a feeling
that I needed to back up for a minute.

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