Chapter 23: KYENNA - A Street King's Widow

The problem with owning Royal Flush was that everybody assumed I wanted to talk about Royal Flush. I had been standing near the entrance for damn near twenty minutes, and in that short amount of time two vendors had stopped me. One of our regulars wanted to know when we were bringing back the celebrity poker tournament. Then another man I had never met before a day in my life tried to pitch me an idea for a cigar company because he saw my name attached to the business. By the time I made it to my office, I was over people. I kicked my heels off under the desk and opened my laptop. The morning numbers were already in my email, and my operations manager had highlighted the only two things that actually needed my attention. Everything else was running exactly the way it was supposed to. Months ago, that would’ve made me uncomfortable. Now, I appreciated not having to put my hands on every little thing. I was halfway through reviewing a new vendor contract when Grif knocked on the open door.

“Your lawyer is here for you.”

“Did he say what he wanted?”

“Nah, he just asked if you were here.”

“Send him up,” I said.

I looked down at my phone before Lloyd could make it to my office. Shameek had sent me a few texts. I just stared at the text as my mind drifted back to our last few nights of sneaking between each other’s houses.

“Hey, I came bearing caffeine and paperwork. I figured one would make the other easier to tolerate,” he said.

“Not you remembered my order,” I said, taking the cup from him.

“You order the same thing every time. It wasn’t exactly a test of memory.”

“Still impressive. Most men don’t listen or pay attention.”

“Not the average man. Believe it or not, most people don’t listen. Men just get blamed more.”

I laughed and opened the folder he placed in front of me.

“What am I looking at?”

“The management proposal for the commercial property you decided not to sell after I spent forty minutes explaining why selling it was financially irresponsible.”

“Oh.” I laughed. “Now you can talk reckless because you think you know me.”

“One dinner and one dance changed our entire professional relationship.”

“Obviously,” I said as I started reading.

He had been right about the property. I hated to admit it, especially to his ass. The building was bringing in too much money for me to let it go because I didn’t want people calling me.

“This says the company takes eight percent.”

“They do, but they handle everything. Rent collections, maintenance calls, annual inspections, and lease renewals. You receive reports and distributions. They receive the headache.”

I nodded. “I like it.”

“I figured you would.”

I flipped the page. “What about capital repairs? I’m not giving some company unlimited authority to spend my money because somebody says the roof looks old.”

“There’s a threshold. Anything under twenty-five hundred can be approved without contacting you. Anything over requires written approval, unless it’s an emergency threatening the property or tenants safety.”

“Lower it to fifteen,” I told him.

“Done.”

“Anything else?” I asked.

“Not business,” he said.

“Here we go.”

Lloyd leaned back in the chair with his coffee. “Why does every conversation that isn’t about business make you suspicious?”

“People always want something.”

“I just wanted to know if you enjoyed your lunch with Jaharee?”

I stared at him for a minute.

“How do you know I had lunch with Jaharee?”

“Calm down. I’m not tracking you. She called me yesterday and asked me for a good accountant to help with her new business venture.”

“Oh, for a minute there I thought I was going to have to get security to drag you out.”

Lloyd laughed. “But nah, I was going to ask if you wanted to try that new restaurant near the courthouse one day next week. They finally opened.”

I didn’t answer immediately. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go. I loved a good meal. It was Shameek’s face flashing through my mind before I could stop it.

“Lunch?”

“Before you read into it,” he said.

“No…no, I’m just running it through my mind to see if I have time. I think next Wednesday should work,” I told him.

“Good, I’ll send you the time.”

“I’m paying this time, Lloyd.”

“Kyenna, I’ll never make you pay for a thing.”

We sat there another fifteen minutes talking before his phone started ringing.

“I have to take this. Send me whatever changes you want in that agreement before five and I’ll get everything over to the management company.”

As he got up and walked out on his phone, my phone vibrated. I was expecting to be Shameek, but it was Jaharee instead.

Jaharee: Did Lloyd ask you out again?

What the fuck was it with people knowing my business?

Me: How the fuck would you know that?”

Jaharee: Because I told him about the new restaurant yesterday and he said he was coming to see you about a contract today.

“This bitch,” I said as I dialed her number.

Jaharee answered, laughing.

“You messy as hell.”

“Take that up with God.”

I hung up in her face. Closing my laptop, I grabbed my stuff and headed downstairs. I told my staff I was working the rest of the day from home if they needed me. I hadn't spent the last two days with myself because Shameek had been up my ass. When I made it home, I walked into my closet and slipped off my clothes. The box with my name on it that I had pushed back with some other boxes caught my attention. It reminded me that Shameek had never found me a cord for the damn phone that was in the box. I slipped on something comfortable and grabbed the phone. Downstairs, I kept a junk drawer full of cords. I tried all of them, and none of them worked. There was a reason Rah left this shit for me, and I was annoyed that I couldn’t find a cord for it. I sat the phone down and stared at it. Then I picked up the phone to call Jaharee.

“What your ass want? You hung up in my face earlier, heifer.”

“Do you have any old cords for a phone?”

“What kind of phone?”

“I don’t know what this is. It’s not like an iPhone charger port. It’s small like an Android port.”

“What kind of phone you got that you need an old ass charger?”

“I don’t think I told you that Shameek found a box in Rah’s storage with my name on it. When I opened the box, it had a burner phone in it.”

“Girl, I doubt I have a charger for that. Have you called Meek? He has some old cords because he keeps every damn electronic known to man, or Pops.

“I just want to see what’s on it.”

“Probably ain’t shit on it.”

“Probably not,” I said.

“I’ll look when I get home just to make sure,” she said.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll talk to you later.” I hung up quickly.

I grabbed my keys. There was an electronics store about fifteen minutes away. They had to have something.

There was a young man behind the counter. When I gave him the phone, he laughed.

“This old. Where you get this from?”

“Do you have a cord or no?”

“I mean, this is older than me.” He laughed. “How much you bought this for…twenty dollars?”

Now I was pissed. I slammed my designer bag on the counter and pointed my finger in his face, making sure my diamond ring hit the light. Because who the fuck did he think he was trying to play?

“You trying to be cute, but nigga I’ll buy this building just to fire your young ass. Don’t ever muthafuckin’ play with me like that again. Now, find a cord to fit that bitch before I call corporate and get you fired anyway.”

He started fumbling with the phone. I stood there and watched as he tried to force several cords into the phone like I did earlier.

“There we go,” he said.

“I’ll buy it.” I waved him back over to me.

He snatched the cord up and rushed back. I had his ass so shook that he ended up just giving me the cord. It didn’t take me no time to get back home and rush to the kitchen to plug the phone up. I waited a few minutes and hit the power, but nothing happened. Tapping my nails on the counter, I waited a few more minutes and then something flashed, and the phone came to life. I was met with a lock screen.

“Dammit, Rah.”

It was only four numbers. It wasn’t his birthday. It wasn’t our anniversary, and it wasn’t the last four of his regular number. The phone warned me that I only had two more attempts.

“Fuck!”

I put the phone down because I didn’t want to lock myself out. Rah was lazy when it came to passwords, but at the same time hated for them to be figured out. He’d use something that meant something to him without being obvious to anybody else. I went upstairs to grab the box. Maybe there was something I had missed. There was a small piece of notebook paper taped under one of the flaps. You would’ve missed it if you weren’t searching for something. 0714 was on the paper when I unfolded it.

“The fuck is July 14th?” I said as I rushed back downstairs.

That wasn’t any of the kids birthdays, our anniversary, or my birthday. I picked the phone up and put the four numbers in, and the phone unlocked. There were no apps on the phone. The call log was clear, but there were messages. There was a recent text thread from him and somebody named West.

Rah: I told you I was tired of passing that shit down

West: That ain’t just yo decision to make

Rah: When it comes to my kids, it is

That was the day before he was murdered. I went through the messages, and everything was vague. The phone calls were only about thirty seconds. Then I scrolled down further.

West: Your dad built this shit before you were old enough to count money. You make this move and everybody tied to the old structure takes a hit.

Rah never said anything back unless it was deleted. So I went to the next text thread, which was labeled ‘D’.

Rah: Same place and time. No Meek or Pops.

D: You sure

Rah: If this shit go left, I need them clean

That was the end of their messages. This shit wasn’t telling me anything. One last text thread was on the phone.

Rah: I’m done with this shit. Meek can keep distribution. Pops can hold whatever he wants to hold.

Old Man: You think you can pull your name out and the rest survive untouched?

Rah: I’m not asking permission.

Old Man: Then be ready for what comes with that.

Rah: Been ready.

For months, everyone told me there were no leads on what happened to Rah, but the leads were in the damn phone. I had no idea who any of those people were. This was something I had that Meek had no idea about. Thinking of Meek, he started calling. Usually I would answer, but right now my mind was clouded.

Meek: You home?

Me: Yes, I’m handling paperwork right now. What’s up?

Meek: Just checkin up on you.

For once, I had something of Rah’s that belonged to me before the Kings. Until I figured out what the hell my husband had been trying to do before somebody killed him, I was keeping this from everyone. Even Shameek.