Page 31 of Double

“There’s somebody here. We’re not interrupting an event, are we?”

Double was quiet for a moment. The conversation continued. “Nah,” he said finally. “That’s Justus. I just hope he’s not back here with some chick’s ass out. Justus!” he called loudly, clearly trying to get his attention. “Yo, Just!”

“We in here!” Justus called back. “We in the Angel Ballroom.”

I followed Double into the room. It was another gorgeous space—bright and airy, neutral shades, from the white oak flooring, to the cream-colored drapes that hung over floor-to-ceiling windows, to the cream-colored tables and camel-colored chairs. It was elegant, beautiful, and very inviting.

Justus’s lady friend, Compton, sat at the one rectangular table, while Justus stood near it. We joined them, and as soon as we were close enough, the two brothers exchanged a greeting with an intricate handshake and a quick one-armed hug.

Justus turned to me immediately after. “What’s good, sis-in-law?” He pulled me into an embrace.

I wasn’t really used to being greeted like that by family, but I definitely wasn’t averse to it. I returned the hug. “Hey, Justus.” When he released me, I gave a smile to his girl. “Hello, Compton.”

She gave me an uninterested glance. “Hey.”

Justus appraised her. “I don’t know what you actin’ crazy with my sis-in-law for. She ain’t did shit. They just got here. If anything, you need to be suckin’ up to her and askin’ if she’ll help you with this event you got comin’ up this weekend.”

“I don’t need no help.”

“You need somethin’,” he insisted.

“What’s the problem?” Double asked.

“She let her friends convince her to do this Galentine’s shit event. She don’ put out all this money arranging shit, and they don’t want to pay her.”

I kept my face neutral, but in my mind, I was thinking about how stupid and backward it was to sign contracts without the funds up front. Every last one of my clients paid a deposit and made incremental payments as we got closer to their reserved date. There was no way that I would be left holding the bag on the date of an event. What kind of event business was she running?

“Stop tellin’ my business, J.”

“Shit, this is his business because you booked the room. You booked the bartender. You signed a contract with us. All that shit costs, and you’re gonna have to pay.” Double looked down at her. “That bill is definitely gonna come due on the night of the party.”

“I’ll have the money,” she practically hissed. “I’m not worried about the money. I’m worried because the person who was supposed to help me put the balloon arch together cancelled on me.”

I wanted to sigh. Balloon arches could be difficult and time-consuming if you didn’t know what you were doing.

“Say, Tinsley?” Justus asked.

“Yeah?” I looked over at him.

He gave me a smirk. “You know anything about balloon arches?”

When Faylise and I first started our event business, we did whatever events we could get, which was mostly kids’ birthday parties and baby showers. I hadn’t had to make a balloon arch in a while. Faylise and I had moved into doing more upscale affairs where balloon arches weren’t part of the décor. Still, I knew that I hadn’t lost my skills. “Yeah. I’ve had my fair share of experience with balloon arches.”

“Good,” Compton said, practically tossing the balloon arch kit toward me. It landed on the edge of the table. “Here you go.”

Nobody moved.

Finally, I eyed it coolly. “Are you asking or telling?” I wasn’t a tough girl, and it was clear that Compton was, or at least considered herself to be one. What I was, was a businesswoman. I understood unequal power balances and the fact that I wasn’t interested in being in one.

Double slid closer to me, then his hand was on my back in a show of support.

“That’s what the fuck I’m sayin’,” Justus said. “How do you luck up on somebody that knows how to do something you don’t know how to do . . . then treat it like it should be their honor to help you? Be for real.”

Compton rolled her eyes at Justus before huffing out a huge sigh. “Uh.” She looked at me critically. “What’s your name again?”

Justus shook his head. “Compton, that’s fucked up. If I was her, I wouldn’t help you, based on that alone.”

“Tinsley,” I supplied.