Chapter 13: KYENNA - A Street King's Widow

Ihad just gotten comfortable in the den when my phone chimed with a notification from security that Shameek was coming through my gate. I wasn’t expecting him, but that wasn’t unusual. Since Rah died, Shameek had gotten comfortable popping up to check on me. Sometimes it was to check the cameras, or it was because Pops sent him down here. I sat my laptop down on the table and started walking towards the foyer when the door popped open.

“Mama Kyenna!” Ryleigh said, running into my arms, almost knocking me down. “I miss you,” she said, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“I missed you too, Princess.” I kissed her cheek.

When my days were gloomy, it was Rah’s kids that always made me feel better. Shameek walked in, shaking his head.

“She begged me to put her ass on the golf cart and drive her down here to see you. She said somethin’ about some damn babies over here.”

“She’s talking about her baby doll collection upstairs.”

“Go up there and get them. We’re not spendin’ the whole afternoon down here,” Shameek told her.

“You know she’s about to pack as many dolls in a bag as she can.”

“The girl is almost four, and you would think she was a fuckin’ teenager,” Shameek said.

For the first time since he walked in, I really looked at him. He had on all black, his locs were freshly twisted, and his gun sat obviously against his hip. Shameek never hid what he was or what he did. Rah could walk in a room full of politicians and blend in. Shameek walked into those same rooms and made everybody adjust and grab their wallets.

“You want something to drink?”

“Hell yeah, that wind hitting me in the face on that golf cart got me thirsty.”

“You hungry?”

“Nah.”

He followed me to the kitchen and leaned against the island while I grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to him.

“How did Ryleigh’s mama act when you picked her up?”

“Like a bitch ‘pose to act.”

“That tells me nothing, Meek.”

“It answers everything. She had twenty fuckin’ rules like Ryleigh ain’t been ‘round us since she was born. Told my mama what time she eats, what time she sleeps, and what kind of juice she likes.”

“She is Ryleigh’s mama.”

“If that’s what you wanna call it. That muthafucka couldn’t care less if Ryleigh was just another nigga baby. She’s connected to royalty, so she tries to put on like she cares for her child.”

“The fact still remains that it’s her child, Meek.”

“Why the fuck does everybody keep givin’ her passes because she’s Ryleigh’s mama? Bein’ somebody’s mama don’t give you the right to use the baby every time you mad at folks.”

“I can agree with that.”

“Then stop defendin’ that bitch.”

“Meek, I’m not defending her. I’m saying I don’t want Ryleigh ever feeling tension because of me.”

“And she won’t.”

“You don’t know that. Ryleigh is growing up, and she may start believing the lies her mama filled her head with.”

Shameek swallowed down his water and pushed off the island.

“Listen to me. Raya signed them papers. My family got their weekend, and you got yours. Ain’t nobody doin’ shit behind Raya back. She knew exactly what the fuck she signed when that money was danglin’ in front of her face. If she regrets it now, that’s her problem.”

I wanted him to understand that children get older and their view of people change. I didn’t want Raya to come between Ryleigh and me as she aged.

“Stop backin’ down just because you don’t wanna look like the bad guy,” Shameek added.

“I do not back down,” I said, crossing my arms.

“When it comes to Raya, you do.”

“That’s a damn lie.”

“You’ll cuss a grown man out in Royal Flush over an invoice, but Raya says she don’t want you around her daughter, and you suddenly ready to step aside.”

“Don’t stand here and act like I’m scared of Raya or some shit. She can get cussed out too.”

“I’m not sayin’ you scared, Kyenna.”

“Nigga, you implied it.”

“All I said was you give the hoe too much grace.”

“I give her grace because I was once the woman standing on the other side of this shit.”

He looked at me, confused. “What you talkin’ ‘bout? You’ve never been the other woman.”

“I was the wife. Averie was the ex, and Raya was the side bitch. We all had a position. We all had feelings involved. I know what it feels like to think another woman is trying to take something from you.”

“What she got that you want?”

“I don’t want her thinking I’m trying to replace her as a mama.”

“My niece ran through the door calling you Mama Kyenna. You didn’t teach her that today. She learned it over the years. Rah had no fuckin’ problem wit’ it. Neither should you.”

I hated when he used Rah against me because it worked every time. That was always my cue to let shit go. Ryleigh came running through the kitchen with her bag of dolls. She barely had the bag zipped. I took the bag from her and placed it on the island so I could get it zipped up.

“Ryleigh.”

“Yes?”

“You’re going to your grandma’s house until tomorrow. Why does each baby have so many outfits?”

“They have to bathe and change clothes,” Ryleigh said.

I looked up at Shameek and laughed.

“I can’t even argue with you,” I said.

“Ryleigh, take some of the outfits out so we can zip the bag. Can you do that for Uncle Meek?” He asked.

Ryleigh looked at me with sad eyes, and I looked at Shameek.

“You mean.” She grabbed the bag and took off running.

“Please don’t ever have kids,” I told him.

“My nieces and nephew are enough for me. I wasn’t ‘bouta have all that shit all over the place. She got six big ass dolls in a bag and seventeen outfits. Where the fuck are they goin’ to the damn club?”

“Meek.” We both laughed.

Ryleigh finally made it back down, and the bag was zipped.

“I’m hungry,” Ryleigh said.

“I’ll fix you something real quick,” I told her.

She ran off to the den while I made her turkey sandwich and fruit.

“You remember when your brother took her to eat ice cream for breakfast.” I laughed.

“Nigga had my mama hot ‘bout that shit. Then gonna have the nerve to say ‘ice cream got milk in it’. I knew then Ryleigh had his ass wrapped.”

“He would argue any point. It was times I just stopped talking because he was going to be right,” I said.

“Usually he does be right.”

“Yeah.” I drifted.

“I miss him.”

“I do, too.”

We went silent after that. I gave Ryleigh her sandwich and fruit as Shameek texted away on his phone. Once she was done, I packed her up some snacks and kissed her on her cheek, letting her know that I would see her in a few weeks and she could dress her dolls up with as many outfits as she liked. As I walked them to the door, Shameek stopped.

“You good?”

I sighed. “Here we go.”

“I asked one damn question.”

“And I know where it’s going.”

“It ain’t goin’ nowhere. You straight?”

“Yes, Shameek. I’m straight.”

He opened the door and helped Ryleigh on the golf cart. Ryleigh waved bye, and I blew her a kiss as Shameek punched the gas, taking off out the gate and towards his parents’ house.

By the time I was finished going through emails, it was after five, and I had managed to talk myself out of going to Royal Flush at least three times. There was nothing for me to do there. The operations manager had already sent me the numbers from the night before, payroll had been approved, and one of the managers had called to let me know the liquor delivery came without issues. I had hired more people to take some of the weight off me, yet I was still learning how to let them do their job without me micromanaging. I closed my laptop and reached for my phone. Lloyd’s message was still sitting in my text thread unanswered.

Lloyd: I’m starting to think you’re avoiding paying your legal fees.

I had to laugh because he was still stuck on that lunch or dinner date since I signed those damn papers. Every time he would mention it, I found a reason to push it off. Some of my excuses were legitimate. The truth was, I didn’t know how I felt about sitting across from another man at dinner. He could call it friendly all he wanted, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew how things could look. It made me feel guilty. Then, I thought about how Jaharee was constantly pushing the get your life back on me. I mean, if the man wanted a damn steak in exchange for all the shit he has helped me with, that’s the least I could do.

Me: Are you busy tonight?

His response came in less than a minute.

Lloyd: Depends on who’s asking

Me: Never mind.

My phone started ringing immediately.

“You give up entirely too fast. What happened to persistence?”

“I’ll never have persistence for a man. Are you free or not?”

“I can be.”

“It’s a yes or no.”

“I’m free, Kyenna. What time?”

“Does seven-thirty work?”

“Seven-thirty is fine. I can come by and pick you up.”

“No. I’ll meet you.”

“I figured you would say that.”

“So why say it?”

“Courtesy.”

“I’ll see you at seven-thirty.”

I sent him the address of where I wanted to go. It was my favorite place to eat steak. As the time ticked on, I was finding every reason to cancel. Taking a shower and getting dressed had become more of a task than I expected. I finally had to remind myself that I had been dressing myself for years without a man’s approval. This wasn’t a date, it was a business dinner. After finding something appropriate to wear, I grabbed my purse and headed downstairs. Security was waiting outside when I stepped through the door.

“I can drive myself,” I told him.

“Shameek–”

I held my hand up.

“I don’t give a damn what Shameek said.”

I really did that because I didn’t want Shameek to even know I was going out. If he did, then he was going to have a million questions that I didn’t feel like answering.

“Mrs. King, I think it would be safer if I drove you.”

I climbed behind the wheel and pulled away before somebody could find another rule to give me. When I arrived, Lloyd was already there. He stood as I approached the table, dressed down from the suits I was used to seeing him in. It was my first time seeing him outside of lawyer mode.

“You’re on time,” he said, pulling my chair out.

“Are you surprised?”

“I deal with wealthy people for a living. Most of them believe reservations wait on them.”

“I take people’s time serious.”

“I appreciate that.”

Once he sat down, I picked up the menu.

“I want to make something clear before we order,” I said. “I’m paying, and this is not a date.”

“Fair.” He shrugged.

For the first twenty minutes, the conversation stayed around business. It wasn’t intentional. Business was simply what connected us. I asked about the second commercial property I still wanted to sell, and Lloyd explained why he thought I should reconsider. He told me what made sense based on the market, the income the property generated, and what selling it now would cost me long term.

“So, you’re telling me to keep it.”

“I’m telling you not to sell something profitable simply because you don’t want the inconvenience attached to it.”

“The inconvenience is annoying.”

“Then you hire someone to deal with it. Rah treated ownership and management the same. He was hands on. You don’t have to be. You hire someone to handle your annoyances.”

“And how much does hiring someone to manage it cost?”

“Less than what you’ll lose selling an appreciating asset because a tenant pissed you off.”

Our waitress came to bring our appetizer and more wine.

“Can I ask you something that has nothing to do with the estate?”

“You can ask, but it doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

“Fair enough. What did you think you were going to do with your life before Rah?”

That question caught me completely off guard. I sat and thought about it. Nobody had ever asked me that. Not even my late husband.

“I’ve always been good with numbers. Like freakishly good. My daddy used to have me checking shit behind grown men when I was a teenager because I could catch a number being off without trying. I thought I’d eventually have something of my own. I just didn’t know what.”

“Finance?”

“Maybe. Something where I could take money and make it multiply.”

“What about you?” I took a sip of wine. “You wake up one day and decide you wanted to spend your life reading contracts?”

“Hell nah. I wanted money.”

“At least you’re honest.”

“My mama was a teacher, and my dad worked construction. We weren’t poor, but I knew exactly what we could and couldn’t afford. I was one of those kids that noticed everything.”

“So you became a lawyer.”

“I became obsessed with having options. Law gave me options.”

“Corporate?”

“That’s where I started originally. I realized that I didn’t enjoy making already powerful corporations more powerful.”

“So you left?”

“Yeah, I started taking private clients, business owners and real estate investors. People who had built something and needed somebody to make sure they didn’t lose it because they signed the wrong paperwork.”

“That’s how you met Rah?”

He nodded. “He came to me over a property deal. He didn’t trust me at first.” Lloyd laughed. “He told me at our first meeting that I looked like the nigga that would charge five hundred dollars to give him advice on some shit he could’ve googled.”

I covered my mouth laughing.

“That sounds just like him.”

“I told him he could walk his ass out and google the shit, but don’t call when his ass got locked up. From that day on we were locked in.”

Our food came before the conversation could get heavier, and I was glad for the interruption. We changed the subject and ended up talking about traveling, music, and the city. By dessert, I realized that I had been sitting in the restaurant for almost two hours, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Lloyd hadn’t tried to touch me or turn the conversation into something it wasn’t. We just talked like friends. The waitress came and placed the check down on the table. Before I could reach for it, Lloyd grabbed it.

“Don’t make me mad. I told you I was paying,” I said.

“I know what you said, Kyenna. I’m also a man.”

“So all that fair shit earlier was you lying?”

“I prefer to call it delaying the disagreement until after we ate.”

“This is crazy,” I said.

“You invited me to dinner because you thought you owed me.”

“Of course, you’ve done a lot for me. So, I do owe you.”

“I don’t need repayment for answering your phone calls and giving advice, Kyenna. I just wanted to spend some time with you.”

“Lloyd.”

“Don’t make it more than what I said, Kyenna. I respect your boundaries.”

The waitress came and took the card and then returned for Lloyd to sign the receipt. We walked out to valet, and I expected the energy between us to be weird, but it wasn’t.

“I had a good time,” he said.

“I did, too.”

My truck pulled around first. Before I could step towards it, Lloyd spoke again.

“Kyenna, I meant what I said. I just wanted to spend time with you. There’s no expectation attached to tonight.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Good night.”

“Good night, Lloyd.”

As I drove home, I couldn’t believe I enjoyed another man’s company without disrespecting the man I had married. That was enough for me to ponder on for the rest of the night.