Page 9 of Own It

“That fine ass nigga eyeing me right there.” Morgin was talking to me, but her eyes were on the tall man with light caramel skin and beautifully twisted locs that brushed a little under his wide shoulders. He was definitely fine, but I was a taken woman. Not to mention, I could smell the fuckboy-ness from all the way where I was. “Let’s go.” Morgin strutted off, putting a little extra stank in her walk as she left me behind to approach the nigga.

I could already sense what type he was just by the fact that he’d somewhat summoned Morgin over instead of approaching her. However, my assistant was way too giddy about him to notice or even care about small things like that, making her the complete opposite of my overly observant ass.

Following behind, I was sure to keep a distance behind Morgin, checking the time on my Patek. I was hoping the duo made it quick, exchanging numbers and parting ways so that Morgin and I could go grab something to eat and a much-needed cocktail.

“What?” My lip curled as I spoke lowly, wondering why Morgin was waving me over. I didn’t understand why I would be needed at this moment.

Noticing Morgin wouldn’t give in, I made my way over, smiling slightly and speaking to the tall and even finer up close specimen.

“This is Josias Godfrey,” Morgin introduced, emphasizing his last name as if I were supposed to know who he was.

“Nice to meet you . . .” He licked his lips as he seemingly awaited my name.

“Daylin,” I replied, nodding with a smirk.

“Cool. I was telling ya homegirl here that my brother is having an afterparty tonight, and y’all should come,” Josias expressed.

“Oh, thank you, but I’m busy.” I declined, making Josias smile subtly.

“No she is not.” Morgin shot me a look as if she were in utter disbelief. I didn’t really understand the big deal about Josias Godfrey, his brother, or this party.

I knew Morgin, though, and if she was this voracious, then I knew Josias and his brother were either famous, rich, street infamous, or maybe even all the above.

“Well, if y’all change ya mind, you can come. I can’t get you into the fight, because that shit is sewed up, but for the party, I got you.” He handed his iPhone, with a blank contact sheet pulled up, to Morgin, who excitedly typed in her information, making me chuckle lowly at her behavior.

“Thank you. See you tonight.” Morgin extended his phone back to him, nibbling on her lip ravenously as if he were a full course meal.

“I hope so.” Josias leaned up off the wall and swaggered off.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Morgin hopped in front of me, intersecting my path.

“We are going to that damn party tonight. I get you’re in a relationship and wanna be boring, but I need a man and preferably him.” She folded her arms as if she were my boss and not the other way around.

“Girl, let’s go eat.” I ignored her spiel and started off.

I’d started to lose count as to how many times Morgin ranted about me being in a boring relationship simply because I wasn’t with a man that had extremely fat pockets and fame. Shaun was never broke, and that was what mattered. I couldn’t remember him ever asking me to pay or saying he didn’t have the bread to fund a request of mine.

Falling in line beside me, Morgin continued her fussing. “I am serious. I have been good to you and Delicacies, and I just need this one favor.”

“I need food before I keep having this conversation.”

Morgin agreed through slight silence and changed the subject. But once we were inside of Eddie V’s with two cocktails and an appetizer between us, she wasted no time getting back into it.

“This party is for thee Ayan Godfrey, Day.”

Why she kept saying their names as if that would suddenly ring a bell, I didn’t know.

Taking a sip of my lemon drop before setting the glass down, I inquired, “Who is that? Why do you keep saying Godfrey as if that is supposed to mean something?”

“Um, Ayan is one of the finest and most successful heavyweight boxers to ever like . . . fight.” Morgin shook her head at my ignorance of Ayan while biting one of the shrimps indecently.

I hated how much she used the word like and had yet to become immune to it like most people around us.

“Oh, . . . okay. I don’t really follow boxing.” I shrugged, eating my own shrimp.

“Me either, but I know every fine nigga in every sports league, that’s for sure. Ayan is delicious, but so is his brother that you saw today. Honestly, I would take either one. They have another brother too; fine as fuck. He used to box, but he’s like faded away.” She leaned back to allow the waitress to set our plates down.

“Faded away?” I questioned.