Page 6 of The Key To His Soul
Me: Well, it belongs to someone. I’ll figure it out.
Ebone: Sooner than later. There are some crazy ass people out here, and tracking is a real thing.
Me: Good thing I have guns with real bullets. I dare a nigga to try it.
I glanced down at the dead screen once more, still clueless. The fact that a whole phone ended up in my purse without me noticing was very off putting. Again, my mind went to Mehki and his comment. Shrugging, I turned and headed upstairs to shower. Taking a page from Mehki’s book, I was going to let the universe do its thing.
CHAPTER 2
Calling Card
MEHKI
After two days of locking in on projects that required my attention over the weekend, I decided that today would be my day off. Out of the norm for me for sure, especially on a Monday, but as the boss, I had the luxury of making my own schedule. Today, I wasn’t taking any meetings that required my physical presence, nor was I looking over any contracts. I woke up this morning and sent a text to my executive assistant, Asia, that I was only to be tagged in if she felt a situation called for my immediate attention. I knew my message came as a surprise to her because I was hands on with my businesses. Still, her response was a simple one —I’m on it, Khi.That was all I needed to hear.
Asia was a beast and, in some areas, overqualified to be working as my assistant. Which was why her paycheck always reflected her work and not the title. She was my second set of eyes when it came to my businesses, and I was grateful for her. For years, I had been the go-to for answers, from times when money exchanged didn’t require contracts to be signed, permits to be cleared, or accounts to go over books. Back when every move I made, if not calculated, could cost me my freedom. Itransitioned from supplying bricks to the streets to supplying bricks to flip homes.
I wasn’t ashamed of where I came from. The streets taught me discipline, how to strategize, lead, and read people. Most importantly, it taught me respect. I was a real estate investor and owned an HVAC company, both started and funded with my own money. And while I knew my money spoke loud in the rooms I was in, I made sure to give respect at all times. I was patient during business deals and didn’t do shit cutthroat.
I made sure no one confused my respect with me being passive. Same way I didn’t let niggas play with me in the streets, I wasn’t letting it happen in a boardroom. Thankfully, I hadn’t had any unpleasant run ins. My businesses had grown leaps and bounds since making the change three years ago. I was building a legacy now for my kids’ kids to grow into. The thought of kids suddenly made my mind drift to the first woman who’d ever made me pause before approaching her — Key. She was a bad muthafucka without even trying.
I’d peeped the first two women who walked into the section before she arrived with two more. They all were beautiful, but Key was a fucking dime and had an effortless confidence about her. I could tell her personality was big by how she greeted her people and stood on the couch in her section, commanding attention without even asking. While most women entered a room hoping to be noticed, she entered like she knew she was the main attraction. Her energy was magnetic. That was what made me look.
Once she glanced my way, I didn’t bother breaking eye contact first. I wanted her to know I was watching. When she looked away, I chuckled. I had that ass. I watched her openly even when she made her way out of the section and to the balcony to dance solo. Most men would’ve waited for the right opportunity, but her hips quietly beckoned me with each sway.So, I approached in a way that only I could. In a way that said she was already mine.
When she threw that ass on me and matched my energy, that was solidified. Now, I could admit that the way I went about making sure we’d see each other again was unorthodox. Maybe on some creep shit by most standards. My boy, Mav, made sure to let me know that shit too as we left the lounge.
“Nigga, that girl gon’ think you tryna track her and press charges on yo’ ass,”he said, referring to me slipping one of my phones into her purse before leaving.
Years of reading the room and moving unnoticed made me stealth. Key looked like she shut niggas down for the fun of it, so I knew off rip that I wasn’t asking for her number. I wanted to be able to contact her when she least expected it, and this was the guarantee. I wasn’t worried about when she’d find the phone. I knew she would. I just wanted to hear her voice when I called.
In the meantime, I needed to tap in with the current women in my life. I whipped my Maybach S-Class through Manhattan traffic with a Pink & White Rose Dior wrapped bouquet in the passenger seat. The arrangement was for my baby, Karima. I hadn’t seen her in a couple days, and flowers were her shit. I’d learned early on that Karima didn’t like flowers because she was soft. She liked flowers from me because they made her feel special and thought of. My presence and the bouquet would make up for my absence.
As I drove, my phone vibrated in the center console. Picking it up, I glanced down at the screen, and it was Mav calling.
“What’s good, my nigga?”
“Shit. Just checkin’ to make sure you still amongst the land of the free.”
“What?”I chuckled.“Fuck you talkin’ ‘bout?”
“You slippin’ yo’ phone in shorty purse.”
“Mannn, get the fuck on. That girl ain’t callin’ the cops ‘bout that.”
“Shiiddd, I done seen broads call for less.”
“That’s cause the broads you fuck wit’ be scary. But since you so concerned, I’ll be calling her today, so we can exchange.”
“Exchange?”
“Yeah.”I paused.“My phone for her time.”
Mav bust out laughing.“Nigga, I ain’t one of ya bitches. That shit wasn’t smooth.”
I laughed along with him.“Fuck off my line, Mav.”
“Yo, that shit got me crying. Nigga said,my phone for her time.Okay, Johnny Gill headass.”
