Chapter 7

7

E yela

DNA: Lala I’m so sorry bae.

DNA: I didn’t mean that shit at all.

DNA: Eyela. You don’t see me calling and texting you?

DNA: So you’re going to ignore me?

DNA: I thought you loved me.

DNA: You really are a stuck up bitch. A nigga do some shit one time that you don’t like and you cut me off? Aight bet.

DNA: If you don’t call or text me back I’m pulling up to yo crib.

My grip on the phone tightened as another text from Cocaine came through. Ever since that night, he’d been blowing me up. Now, he was threatening to come to my home. It was in his best interests that he didn’t. Regardless of how things had ended between us, I didn’t want him to be hurt. So as much as I didn’t want to, I called him and kept my voice low to avoid anyone outside of the dressing room hearing me.

“It took me threatening you for you to hit my line, Eyela?”

“Look… We have nothing to talk about. I’m marrying someone else. What we had is over. Please leave me alone.”

“Nah. We’re not over until I say we’re over. I thought about it, and I don’t appreciate you accusing me of taking something that I should have been had.”

My eyes closed as I inhaled a deep breath. “Cocaine, you knew I didn’t plan on having sex until I was married.”

“Yeah, and I accepted that because I thought we were going to get married. Your daddy ain’t a man of his word. I should pull up on the both of you anyway.”

“What exactly do you want?”

He released a shaky breath into the receiver. “I need to see you. One last time.”

I thought about how honest I wanted to be with him. Truth was, I didn’t feel comfortable with him anymore. The last thing I wanted to do was be alone with him. There was a time I didn’t think he’d ever hurt me. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

“I can meet you somewhere public.”

Cocaine chuckled. “Oh, so now you don’t trust me?”

My head hung as it shook. “No. I don’t. You almost rap—”

“You don’t have to keep saying that, Lala.” His tone softened when he added, “I’m sorry aight? That was my pride and ego. I was mad and hurt that he didn’t choose me for you. I felt… owed something. I apologize. I just want to see you and make things right.”

“You don’t have to make anything right. I accept your apology, but I don’t want to see you again. Things were good between us before that. I don’t want to ruin the memories. Goodbye, Donovan. Please, don’t call or text me again.”

I quickly disconnected the call and hoped he’d respect my wishes, but something told me he wouldn’t. On the off chance he confronted Daddy, I’d cross that bridge when we got to it. For now, I blocked his number, and tried to focus on the task at hand—finding a wedding dress. All of my clothing was couture. I didn’t own one shirt, pair of slacks, or dress that had come off a store rack unless it was loungewear.

My mother insisted I come to New York for the wedding dress because the chance of me being able to have a custom dress made by one of my usual designers in such a small amount of time would be almost impossible. The trip had been unsuccessful so far. Nothing I’d tried on felt good enough or flattering enough for my frame. I didn’t have the luxury most brides-to-be had of getting cold feet and thinking me not being able to find a wedding dress was a sign I shouldn’t get married. Regardless of how I looked, felt, or what dress I chose… I had to get married.

Mommy peeked through the drapes. “Still unhappy?” I nodded, and she pouted. “Princess, maybe we can try Paris. What good is having access to your future husband’s jet if we can’t fly anywhere we want?”

My head shook as she stepped inside and closed the curtain behind her. When Daddy told Karrington I was worried about the wedding dress because of the short notice, he offered the jet so I could go wherever I wanted to look for one. It was another unexpected gesture from him, but I appreciated it, nonetheless.

“I don’t want to take advantage of his generosity. I think I just want to go home and see if one of my three designers can fit me in. Even if I have to pay extra, it’ll be worth it. They know my style.”

Mommy didn’t respond as she tapped away on her phone. I should have known she was up to something, but as I undressed, I gave her the benefit of the doubt. That ended when I heard her telling Daddy to give her Karrington’s number. Me begging him not to in the background did no good. As I quickly slipped back into my clothes, she called Karrington and told him my dilemma.

“It’s for you,” she said with a syrupy voice, handing me the phone.

My eyes rolled and heart raced. I didn’t want to talk to Karrington. The last time I heard his voice, it made me leak between my thighs, and that was a first.

“Hello?” I turned my back to Mommy, not giving her the satisfaction of being able to read my expression as we talked.

“Do you want to go to Paris, Eyela?”

“Honestly, no. I want to get one of my designers to do it.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

“It’s too short notice. They’re all booked.”

“That’s all?” I blinked. “Have your mom send me the name and contact information for whoever you want to do it. Call me when you get back to Memphis.”

“O-Okay.”

Even though he sounded confident, I wasn’t sure he’d be able to make any of them change their plans. After we disconnected the call, I handed Mommy her phone back.

“He sounds just as good as he looks. Have you seen him yet?”

My head shook as we stepped out of the dressing room. “No. I don’t want to see him until the wedding.”

“That’s romantic.”

I laughed. Romance wasn’t what I had in mind when I made the decision not to see him. Truth was, I felt a little resentment toward Karrington and his family for agreeing to join mine. Had he not, I wouldn’t be looking for a wedding dress. But I told myself, even if it wasn’t him, it would be someone else. It seemed joining with the Lowe family would be fulfilling and prosperous for mine, and I kept telling myself that made it worth it. Regardless, it was happening, and the sooner I accepted that… the better.