Page 11 of Soft On Her
“That’s the least of my worries. I can run it with the best of ‘em,” she bantered, offering me a playful eye roll.
Candace begrudgingly led Deja towards the back, and I told Quinn I was headed to the DJ booth. She was occupied withsome chick that fell into her lap, so she wasn’t worried about me anyway. I quickly finished my drink along the way because I knew Star didn’t play that shit around her equipment. Even though Star didn’t come out of her pockets for anything in here, she wouldn’t even allow me to tear it up.
“Hey boo. I didn’t know you were coming out tonight,” Star embraced me in a hug.
“I haven’t been out here to check on things in a while, so I decided to pop up.”
“Well, feel free to take over. You know they love it when DJ Sneaux steps on the stage.”
“Don’t gas me,” I laughed, taking her position as she handed me the headphones.
Placing my purse on the built-in shelf below the equipment, I got comfortable in the space. It felt like a little command center as I scanned the laptop screen and lit up buttons, then looked out at the dance floor. A confident smirk spread across my face because it was exhilarating to curate the vibes in a packed venue full of half drunk people who just wanted to have a good time. In my eyes, the DJ determined how much fun you had during a night out.My Neck, My Backstarted playing, and the bass from the speakers boomed as I slipped the headphones on, leaving one ear uncovered.
“Y’all know how DJ Sneaux gets down! We are about to take it back to before I was even born,” I shouted into the mic as I got comfortable in the booth.
I locked in, transitioning fromMy Neck, My BacktoThis Is How We Do Itjust as Khia rapped her last do it now. The crowd loved it, their appreciation for the classics was another reason I chose to cater to the thirty and up crowd. I went on for a minute, and DJ Star came up behind me, yelling that I was killing it. Somehow, we ended up playingLemonadeby Gucci Mane, andI was bouncing along to the beat, setting up my transition toBirthday Sex.
For some reason, I looked up, and my mind went blank, ceasing my hand movements. My heart stopped, and I blinked twice to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.Birthday Sexwas already playing beneathLemonade, and the beats rode each other longer than anticipated, causing them to clash horrendously. I could hear the music clashing but couldn’t pull myself together to fix it. All eyes were probably on me due to my fuck up, but I couldn’t say for certain. My eyes were searing into the woman who garnered my attention.
Her smooth, rich, dark skin caught the strobe lights for a second time, and I was able to confirm it was her. Milani Dashae Harris. Except she was all grown up. Her hair framed her beautiful face perfectly, just barely touching her shoulders. Those sharp, steady eyes connected with mine, and her juicy, glossed lips parted, and that intense curiosity that I always had still made me wonder what more than a brief peck with Milani would feel like.
Milani was effortlessly perfect. Her almond-shaped eyes, thick lashes, and high cheekbones were all features that some bitches would pay top dollar for. The cinnamon brown plunging neckline dress barely covered her ass, and then, my heart shattered when I realized a black and gold Bride To Be sash was draped over her shoulders, and a small cinnamon brown veil rested on top of her head.
The crowd groaned, waiting for me to fix my fuck up, but I didn’t give a damn. I snatched up my purse and stepped out of the way as I felt and heard DJ Star over my shoulder. Quinn was at the edge of the stage with her hand extended to help me down the four steps.
“I’m good. I’ll be back,” I lied because I saw the questioning look Quinn gave me.
Nothing about me was good. A twinge of jealousy shot through me when I surmised that Milani’s glow was a result of someone else making her happy. I couldn’t have that. Suddenly, I completely understood why the men around me crashed out about their wives. Rage burned through me about a woman who I hadn’t laid eyes on in nearly a decade. She headed for the exit, and I was on her ass the moment she stepped outside.
Vomit climbed up my throat when I put two and two together and realized that the woman Deja went to speak with while I ran to the bathroom was Sneaux. My mood was ruined for the rest of the night because she’d mentioned that their fathers were discussing possible marriage terms. It shocked the fuck out of me to realize she was referring to a woman, and that shock quickly turned to disbelief when I realized it was Sneaux. I should’ve put up a harder fight when Deja announced her plans to take me to the lounge for my bachelorette party. Instead, I put on the stupid sash and dramatic veil to not seem like a bitch after AC and Deja put forth effort to make my first weekend welcoming after the rough few days I had before arriving.
Until Sneaux took the stage, I was enjoying myself. The atmosphere in the lounge was immaculate, and the liquor had me feeling good. My sash and veil drew unwanted attention inthe form of free drinks being sent our way. I sat in the darkest corner of our section, praying that Sneaux wouldn’t see me when she took her position behind the DJ booth.
Sneaux curated the music for at least thirty minutes, and my eyes never left her pretty face. She was into it. Flicking her wrist and bouncing to the beat. I started feeling warm and fuzzy watching her do something she clearly loved. She always loved music; her parents always put us on to the songs they loved growing up. It was one of the things we bonded over.
My heart was full knowing that Sneaux got to live out one of her dreams and become a DJ. And from the looks of it, she got to learn the trade from her favorite DJ. A glint of envy shined through that happiness I felt for Sneaux because I hadn’t had the same experience since we graduated from high school. I wasn’t able to go to college, I didn’t become a veterinarian, or live out any of my dreams for that matter.
After what felt like forever, I climbed to my feet and decided to leave the lounge to find Deja or the driver. She hadn’t returned to the section, and I was starting to get worried. The lounge was closing in another fifteen minutes, and we both agreed to leave thirty minutes before closing to avoid the rush exiting. As I maneuvered through the packed space, I chastised myself for coming out here without a gun and drinking more than I probably should have, knowing I didn’t have a single person that I could reach out to if I found myself in a pickle.
I didn’t even have the driver’s number because he was waiting for me outside the airport with my name on a sign. After a quick greeting, the driver ushered me into the truck and drove me to AC’s home. We didn’t have any further conversation outside of that. Deja gave him the instructions for the evening, and I prayed he had parked somewhere close like she instructed him to do.
“Good night, drive safely, beautiful,” the security guard who opened the door stated as I sauntered through it.
I headed to the side of the brick building towards the parking lot. Although it was nearing two o’clock in the morning, the streets weren’t deserted, and the city still felt alive, so I wasn’t worried about searching for the driver alone. Strutting across the parking lot, I turned around when I realized there was another pair of heels clacking against the pavement behind me.
Spinning around, I knew the color drained from my face, and I felt my soul leave my body. After all of these years, Sneaux’s piercing dark eyes were more powerful than ever, with those thick lashes batting at me. The game plan I formulated for this very scenario while sitting alone in the section went out of the window.
“Who the fuck are you supposed to be marrying?” Sneaux’s voice came out low and venomous.
I swallowed hard, unable to believe that I’d been back in Florida less than twenty-four hours and I had already crossed paths with the one person I wanted to avoid the most. Everybody else in Sand Cranes could kiss my black ass, but Sneaux was different. Although I coached myself that Sneaux belonged in the same category as them, my mind wouldn’t believe that lie. She’d always be the one who got away.
“Over nine years, and that’s how you greet me?”
“Absolutely. I can figure everything else out after you tell me who I’m beefing with because that wedding ain’t happening,” Sneaux asserted. “So who is it?” She demanded an answer, her face contorted from frustration.
My eyes left her pretty face and trailed off to the dark, starry sky, but Sneaux wasn’t having it. She cockily flicked her hands with her eyebrows raised, gesturing for me to quickly provide an answer.
“His name is AC. He’s gearing up to take over the Clayton family. I really don’t know much else about him.”
