“Aaaaand,” the original voice, I could assume was Emily’s, chimed in, “Shirez has humiliated you, flaunting that singer, Ciara, in your face all year long. What does he have that has you acting as though you can’t get enough, Erika? You said it yourself, Stenton has the biggest cock you’ve ever seen and can fuck like a champ. We all know he has more money than Shirez will ever have! If Ellis doesn’t have the balls to say it, I will!”
“You guys are ganging up on me!” That must have been Erika’s deep cry. I heard deep sobs.
“Come here, honey. We don’t mean to be harsh.”
And then, “This is all so fucked up! I love Stenton. I really do!”
Then the recording ended.
Holy mother of Joseph!
What a messy reveal. My first thought was to call Stenton. I mean, it would have been the supportive thing to do, right? But that would have been awkward on my part. I didn’t want to be that type of friend to him. Yet, I couldn’t deny wanting to give that Erika a piece of my mind for embarrassing Stenton like this…and publicly. What was she thinking?
Why should I care?
Because I still loved Stenton, that’s why.
Chapter 4
Now
August 2014
~Stenton~
“Does any of this sound attractive to you, StentRo?”
“Yeah, man. I’ve gone over it myself and with Chesney. The blueprint looks good, the proposal is intriguing and the plan is solid. Have I not been here for the past hour discussing the specs of this, sir?” I gibe.
“Sir? Oh, word?” He smiles his fucking pretty boy ass smile when he does some shit with his tongue and back teeth. “This coming from the man who’s about to retire?”
I chuckle. “Yup. Retirement is in my very near future and I can’t fucking wait—which is why I’ve been spending more time with your suave ass, by the way.”
“And this is why I’m just trying to be clear on the terms.”
“Bruh, we’ve gone down this same road with Cobalt. I don’t see much variation,” I argue.
He snorts while sitting up to grab his tumbler of brandy from the center coffee table, then he smooths his tie as he sits back to sip his drink. I’ll give it to him: this dude drips elegance. Many of us remember him from his “urban” days when he rocked Timbo’s and saggy jeans.
“That’s where you’re wrong, sir,” he returns my taunt. “This spot is on the water, increasing its risk and value. I don’t have many in on this deal because, shit, ADJ Enterprise can carry this alone. I want this to be a long lasting, carefully laid venture. I need your confidence in this, Stent.”
“I appreciate you for this, man. I swear, I may be out of it, but I’ve gone over the docs several times, alone and with Chesney, and I’m good with it all. He’ll be transferring the funds over next week. Just don’t ask me to sign nothing with Moreau’s bitch-ass name on it and we’re good.”
He grimaces. “Never that. I told you I could arrange for an unsecure sit down.”
We both chuckle at that one. “Yeah, and I can see him suing the shit outta my black ass. Then I’ll be calling on you to help me stack my paper for real.”
There’s a knock at the open door. “Mr. Jacobs,” A blonde with smart looking glasses in a skirt suit cranes her neck in the doorway. “Your assistant asked that I make you aware of a new 1:15 appointment that’s on their way.”
“New appointment? What part of the game is that?” Azmir asks, displeased.
“I’m sorry, sir. I just got the call.”
At the same time I pull up my wrist, I can see him pulling out his pocket watch. It’s just after 1 p.m.
“Shit,” he swears underneath his breath then turns to me expressing regret.
“It’s all good. I have a 1:30 just around the corner myself,” I offer. It reminded me that I didn’t know who my meeting was with either.
“Margaret, you can set whomever it is up in the next room. When I’m done with Mr. Rogers I’ll be in there.”
“Yes, sir,” Margaret agrees before making an about face.