Page 21 of A King’s Obsession

***

By that afternoon, I'd dragged Jru through enough stores for her to threaten to leave me in the mall. Good. At least she wasn't spending the whole day worrying about Rosemont.

That evening, I sat on her bed watching her change her earrings for the third time. She'd been standing in front of the mirror for nearly twenty minutes, studying herself like one wrong accessory was going to cost her the job.

“Girl, leave them damn earrings alone,” I told her, crossing my legs.

“I'm nervous,” she admitted, fastening one of them again.

“I know. You've told me six times.” I gave her a look before letting my eyes travel over her outfit. “And for the record, you look good.”

The burgundy jumpsuit hugged her little frame perfectly, stopping below her knees before giving way to black strappy heels. Its square neckline showed just enough, and the gold jewelry we'd picked out earlier pulled everything together. Her sleek bob framed her smooth, rich brown face, while those glasses gave her an innocent look that was pure false advertisement. I knew my friend, and innocent wasn't always the word I'd use to describe her.

“Turn around,” I instructed, motioning with my finger.

Jru looked at me through the mirror. “Why?”

“Because I said turn around. Damn, let me see the whole outfit.”

She sighed but did it anyway, holding her arms out slightly as I inspected her. I nodded my approval, satisfied with what I saw.

“You look good, girl. Stop stressing.”

“You don't think it's too much for an interview?” she asked, smoothing her hands over her hips.

“First of all, you're meeting them at a nightclub, not Bank of America. Second, no. You look like somebody who knows how to present herself.”

Her eyes traveled over my outfit before she raised an eyebrow. “And what the hell are you dressed for?”

I glanced down at my burgundy-and-black jumpsuit, which hugged every curve on my five-two frame. The halter neckline dipped low in the front, and my long, bone-straight bust-down fell almost to my waist. I loved me a good thirty-inch wig, but don't get shit confused. I wasn't bald-headed underneath it. My real hair was healthy; I just preferred letting somebody else's hair do the work.

Jru was still waiting for an answer, her arms folded across her chest. “You gonna tell me or just keep admiring yourself?”

I smoothed my hair over one shoulder and smiled. “I'm dressed for Malachi.”

She burst out laughing, shaking her head. “At least you honest.”

“Always, baby.” I reached for my phone when it buzzed beside me.

**Malachi:** Y'all ready?

I smiled before I could stop myself, and Jru caught it immediately. She turned away from the mirror, one hand settling on her hip as she studied my face.

“Look at you,” she teased. “That man got you bad, Ash.”

“Mind your business,” I told her, trying to hide my smile while typing my response. “He got money. There's a difference.”

“Mhm,” she hummed, shaking her head like she didn't believe a word coming out of my mouth. I rolled my eyes and ignored her, although the smile on my face probably wasn't helping my argument.

Malachi and I had met months ago, and neither one of us had pretended our arrangement was something it wasn't. He liked me, I liked him, and he enjoyed taking care of me. Sponsor, sugar daddy, whatever somebody wanted to call it, I didn't care. Especially when my sponsor was tall, dark, built, with light brown eyes, a full beard, and waves that stayed right. Thirty-nine years old and fine as hell.

Unfortunately, somewhere between the trips, gifts, and late-night conversations, I'd started liking the man attached to the wallet. That complicated things, especially considering Malachi was Muslim and had mentioned wanting more than one wife someday. I respected his faith completely, but may Allah bless that man from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet, because I wasn't sharing my husband. Maybe somebody else could do it. Couldn't be Ashlynn.

He didn't know I was thinking that far ahead anyway. For now, I was enjoying what we had.

Besides, I had another little plan brewing.

Ezra.