Chapter 18: KYENNA - A Street King's Widow

The King Foundation gala was one event nobody in the family was allowed to miss. It didn’t matter what was going on in the streets, who wasn’t speaking to who, or what business needed attention. Every year, the Kings cleaned themselves up, put on expensive clothes, smiled for the cameras, and raised money for the same neighborhoods that had helped build the family name. We wrote checks for scholarships, youth sports, housing assistance, grants and funeral expenses. Rah used to joke that Pops spent half his life putting poison into the city and the other half trying to make peace with God by giving the money back.

This year was different. Rah’s name was printed across damn near everything. Seeing it on the program when I stepped inside almost made me turn around and go home. I stood near the entrance longer than I should have, staring at the gold lettering across the thick black cardstock. For months, I had gotten used to seeing his name on documents. Somehow seeing memorial beside his name felt worse.

“You plan on standing in the damn door all night?” Jaharee asked.

“Shut up,” I joked.

She hugged me before pulling back and taking in my dress.

“Okay, bitch,” Jaharee said.

“You like it?” I spun around.

“You did that. I should’ve known you were going to step out tonight with something never seen before.”

I smiled and ran my hands over the fitted black gown. It was simple from the front, but the back was dipped low and laced with diamonds. My hair fell in loose waves down my back, and the diamond earrings Rah bought me for our fifth anniversary were the only jewelry I wore besides my wedding ring.

“You look good, too.”

“Oh, bitch, I know.” Jaharee stuck her tongue out.

“I hate complimenting your ass.” I laughed before looping her arm into mine.

“Come on. Mama already asking where you at.”

“I just got here.”

“She don’t care. You know Lorraine runs events like a drill sergeant.”

“She’s literally been calling me since noon, Jaharee.”

“Oh, I believe you. She’s been doing the same with me and we live in the same house.”

We walked farther into the ballroom, and for a few minutes I forgot about the program in my hand. The room was beautiful. The tables were covered in black silk tablecloths, with gold centerpieces with white roses. The screens on the wall played old photographs from foundation events over the years.

“You good?”

“I’m fine.”

“Let’s get a drink before Mama finds us and puts us to work.”

“That’s the best thing you’ve said all day.”

By the time we made it to the bar, I had been stopped at least six times. Everybody wanted to hug me, compliment my continued success at Royal Flush, or give me the damn sympathetic look people still hadn't learned I hated. I smiled anyway. That was part of tonight. The foundation wasn’t about grief. I had already taken down one glass of champagne and was ready for another one.

“Champagne?”

I turned at the sound of Lloyd’s voice. He stood beside me in a black tuxedo holding two glasses.

“Thank you,” I said.

Jaharee looked between us and smiled.

“Okay, I can see I’m not needed anymore,” she said.

“Jaharee, don’t start,” I told her.

“I’m going to find mama before she sends a search party,” she said, kissing my cheek.

She disappeared into the crowd, leaving me standing with Lloyd. He nodded towards the program.

“They did good on the programs,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said, folding it and putting it in my clutch.

Lloyd didn’t push the issue. He just changed the subject to one of the donors who wanted to expand the foundation’s entrepreneurship grant, and within minutes we were talking numbers. That was one thing I liked about Lloyd. He knew how to talk to me without every conversation circling back to Rah.

“What they are proposing is not enough,” I told him.

“Three hundred thousand ain’t enough?”

“Not if they want to spread it across twenty businesses. That’s fifteen thousand each before you even get into administrative costs. What is somebody supposed to do with that if they’re trying to open a brick-and-mortar location?”

“You’d rather fund fewer people?”

“I would rather actually help ten.”

“You know a little something, huh?”

I smiled and took a sip of my wine as the crowd toward the entrance shifted. I didn’t have to see who walked in. The King family had a way of changing the energy in any room. Shameek and Nikki walked in hand in hand. They looked so cute together. Nikki wore a fitted emerald colored dress that hugged her body perfectly. Her hair was pinned up with a few pieces framing her face. Shameek had cleaned up good, too. His locs were pulled away from his face; he wore a black tuxedo with big diamond cufflinks. My eyes stayed on them a little too long. Then Shameek and I made eye contact before I looked away. Lloyd was still talking about the grant proposal, so I forced my attention back to him.

“I think we should match whatever the foundation contributes,” I said.

“That would get you closer to what you want.”

“Exactly. If they put up three, we put up three. Now we have six hundred thousand and enough to actually change somebody’s life.”

“You know you’re going to end up chairing this committee,” he said.

“Absolutely not.”

“You just redesigned the entire program in four minutes.”

“I’m good!” We laughed.

We continued talking until Lorraine called everybody towards their tables. Lloyd had been seated with several attorneys and judges closer to the front. I was at the King family table. As I moved away from him, he lightly touched my elbow to let the server carrying champagne pass between us. That was it. Barely a touch, but when I looked towards the table, Shameek was watching. Nikki was sitting beside him, talking to Pops as I made it to the table and took my seat next to Jaharee.

The program started, and for the next hour I kept my attention where it belonged. Pops spoke first. He talked about the foundation’s beginning and the neighborhoods where he and Lorraine were raised. Then Lorraine got up and spoke about the scholarship program. Lastly, Jaharee introduced this year’s recipients. Then they played the video of Rah. I knew the shit was coming because I had to approve the video. Still, seeing my husband’s face stretched across three giant screens almost took me out. His voice filled the ballroom from an interview he had done last year. I stared straight ahead while my throat dried up. I was so glad nobody touched me. The video ended with Rah laughing, his head thrown back the way it always did when something was really funny. The applause thundered through the ballroom. For the first time in a long time, the tears that filled my eyes didn’t feel completely sad. I was so proud of him.

After dinner, the formal part of the evening loosened up. The DJ took over, the lights lowered, and the people started networking and dancing. I looked across the room to see Raya snatching a drink off the server’s tray. I had forgotten that she was on the guest list. I guess the bitch did benefit from having a connection to a King. She was seated towards the back of the ballroom. Averie was smiling and mingling with a few of the people at her table. Tonight was going great. Lloyd had found his way back to me.

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” he said.

“Why?”

“You normally be gone after the speeches.”

“That was when Rah was here to disappear with.”

The words came out before I thought about them.

“Damn, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Really, it’s okay.”

Someone I knew came over and pulled me into conversation. Lloyd stayed beside me, adding to the conversation when it made sense. Having conversations with him came easy. We had more in common than we thought. That was probably what caught Shameek’s attention. I felt his eyes before I found him. He was standing across the ballroom talking to one of Pop’s longtime friends. His attention wasn’t fully on the conversation, though. It was on me. This time I stared right back. His eyebrow raised slightly, which made me turn away.

Ten minutes later, Lloyd had me laughing about one of the members trying to quietly change the wording in a contract after everybody had agreed to the terms.

“Kyenna,” Shameek said.

“Yes?” I turned to him.

“Pops is looking for you.”

“For what?” I frowned.

“He didn’t say. He’s over by the auction tables.”

“Excuse me,” I said to Lloyd.

“Of course.”

I headed towards the other side of the room and found Pops exactly where Shameek said he would be. He was bidding on some ridiculous golf package he would never use.

“You looking for me?” I asked.

“Nah.” He looked at me, confused.

“Shameek said you needed me.”

“I ain’t seen that nigga since he left the table.”

I slowly turned my head, and Shameek was nowhere in sight. Instead of taking my ass back to Lloyd, I found Jaharee on the dance floor and spent the next few songs with her just dancing and laughing. Then Lloyd popped back up and asked me to dance. It wasn’t a slow song or anything romantic. Just old-school R&B that had half the room moving. I took his hand, and we danced just like everyone else was doing. Then his hand briefly settled at my waist as someone squeezed behind us. It threw my attention off, and instantly my eyes hit Shameek standing in a doorway, staring. Not once did I see him with Nikki besides at the table. His expression made my smile fade, but I kept dancing. If he had something to say, then his grown ass needed to say it. He never had a problem any other time with his words. By the end of the song, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I didn’t make it there.

“Kyenna.”

“Not now, Meek.” I kept walking.

“Come here before I make the shit look worse than it needs to.” He pulled me towards a side hallway.

“What is wrong with you?” I asked, once we were far enough from the ballroom.

He opened the door to one of the small conference rooms used earlier for foundation staff and motioned me inside.

“I’m not going in there.”

“Kyenna.”

“Shameek,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Get in the room.”

I stood there staring at him, and I could tell he was getting annoyed with my stubbornness.

“You know what? Fuck it.”

I walked inside because the last thing I wanted was somebody coming down the hallway and seeing us arguing.

“Now what the fuck is your problem tonight?” I asked as soon as he shut the door.

“I ain’t got no problem.”

“You’re lying. You interrupted me and Lloyd earlier; lied and told me Pops was looking for me, and now you just pulled me from going to the restroom. If you have something to say, say it.”

“You real comfortable wit’ that nigga.”

I had to blink twice because this couldn’t be what this nigga pulled me in this room for.

“Nigga, what?”

“Kyenna, you heard me.”

“Yeah, I heard you. I’m trying to make sure I understood you.”

“I don’t like the way that nigga movin’ ‘round you.”

A laugh slipped out.

“What the fuck funny?”

“You,” I said.

“Ain’t shit funny.”

“No, it’s actually hilarious because we have already had this conversation about Lloyd. He is my lawyer and Rah’s friend. Now he has become my friend. What is the problem?”

“So you think he was out there actin’ like a fuckin’ lawyer?”

“And are you acting like a brother-in-law?”

That instantly shut his ass up. I folded my arms again, waiting on an answer that never came.

“You came here with Nikki.”

“The fuck she got to do wit’ Lloyd bein’ a fuck nigga?”

“Everything, Shameek! Your woman is somewhere in that ballroom while you have me locked in a conference room because another man danced with me. Do you hear yourself?”

“I ain’t jealous of no fuckin’ Lloyd.”

“I never said you were, but since you brought it up…”

“Don’t play wit’ me, Kyenna.”

“I’m not playing with you. I’m just trying to figure you out.”

“There’s nothin’ to figure out.”

“Then open the door.”

He never moved.

“If this is about protecting me, Lloyd hasn’t done anything. If this is about Rah, you're standing in here disrespecting him more than Lloyd ever has. And if this is about you–”

“Don’t.” He stopped me.

“Meek, you don’t get to order me around.”

“I kno’ that.” He stepped closer.

“Do you?

“Yeah, I fuckin’ do.”

“You’ve been watching me all night.”

“’Cause you movin’ different.”

“Nigga, I’m enjoying myself.”

“Wit’ that nigga?”

“And? The fuck is wrong with that.”

Shameek’s jaw clenched as he stared at me.

“Say it,” I told him.

“Say what?”

“Whatever the fuck it is that you’re afraid to say. Why does Lloyd bother you?”

“He’s not good enough for you,” Shameek said.

“Okay, let me out of this room. You need to go find Nikki.”

“Stop bringin’ her up.”

“That’s your woman, right?”

“And Lloyd what? Yours?”

“No.” I frowned.

“Then why the fuck is he always ‘round you?”

“Maybe because I like him.”

I didn’t even know why I said it. The second the words left my mouth, Shameek’s whole face changed, and he stepped even closer.

“Say that shit again.”

My heart started beating fast. There was barely any room between us. His cologne mixed with my perfume made the perfect aroma. This was the first time I wasn’t looking at Rah’s little brother. I was staring at Shameek, and the shit scared me.

“We need to get out of here.”

He didn’t move, and neither did I.

“Meek…”

His hand came up and touched the side of my face. Everything around us faded out. The first time we kissed, I was drunk, crying, and drowning in grief. Tonight, I was sober. I knew exactly whose face I was staring at. I knew exactly whose hands were touching me. I don’t know who kissed who, but our lips were touching and slowly our mouths opened. My heart was thumping rapidly against my chest.

“No!” I pushed him off. “Let me out. We can’t do this shit.”

“Ky–”

“And don’t call me Ky. Rah used to call me that. Let me out,” I said.

Shameek opened the door and let me out. I sent a text to Jaharee letting her know I had a headache and I was heading home. There was no way I could look Lloyd or Nikki in the face after what almost happened in that conference room. When I arrived home, I stripped out of everything and took a long hot shower, brushed my teeth, and crawled in the bed. This was the second time this happened and I was afraid that next time we were going to take the shit too far.