35. Anastazia

Getting out of the car, I stepped up onto the sidewalk to enter Ocean Prime. I’d been craving their food but in the comfort of my own home, so Asif had ordered it for me. He offered to have it delivered, but sometimes, his little flunkies didn’t hold my shit correctly, causing it to be all lopsided. I never said anything because Asif ran shit with an iron fist, and I would hate to cause one of his soldiers to endure a broken nose or jaw for messing up my food.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up for Anastazia,” I let the man at the hostess stand know.

“Got it. One moment.” He walked off, and as soon as I turned around, I saw Milan walking in as well as a nigga that worked for Asif, with his hand around her shoulder.

When she saw me, she moved his arm from her and told him something before coming over. I noticed she looked more sullen than usual—her typical attitude filled expression nowhere in sight.

“Hi.” She put her hand up, and when her hair moved a bit, I saw the top of her ear had been burned. It looked painful, making me wonder what happened.

Could’ve been Asif, but I couldn’t be sure. All I knew was that after the theme park bullshit, she’d been ghost, not bothering me at all. Even her cousin left me alone the few times I’d seen her out while in South Central with Asif.

“Hi?” I chuckled, leaning on the counter. “Last time I saw you, you were fighting me and having your homegirls fight my friends.”

“Yeah. My cousin, who I should’ve never forgave, got in my head.” She glanced off. “But I apologize. I was so upset with you for taking Asif, not realizing he was never mine, and if it wasn’t you, it was gonna be someone else.”

I nodded, turning to the man who’d brought my food out. I noticed as I reached up to grab it, Milan’s eyes locked onto my engagement ring.

“Well, have a good one.”

“Is that from him?” she questioned.

“It is.”

She opened her mouth to speak but… Yona, that was his name, yelled, “Milan, is our name on the list yet or what?”

Like a lapdog, she turned to ask the man to put their name on the waiting list to be seated.

I took that as my cue to leave, shaking my head at her. She would never learn and would always be some nigga’s doormat, so long as he had money. And her fucking Asif’s soldier would only ruin her reputation, so it wasn’t worth it unless she truly loved Yona. But judging by the way she moved his arm from her body earlier, I knew that wasn’t the case.

“Congrats, boss lady!” Yona called out, odd because he was on the yacht to watch the proposal live. Something told me he was rubbing it in Milan’s face, probably in an effort to stop her from wanting Asif.

“I’m not the boss, just his lady,” I replied jokingly, and he chuckled.

I looked back once to see Milan watching me, slight disgust in her stare, before Yona turned her face toward his so that he could kiss her.

“Oh my gosh, this is so perfect,” I said, tilting my head back to eye all the finishings that Asif’s contractor, Muriel, along with his team had put in.

The women’s center, located in Downtown Los Angeles, was coming along so nicely. It would be done by next week, and I could not wait. Now that I had my license reinstated, I was back working at the hospital, but I was sure to make them understand I needed time to tend to my women’s center too.

I’d decided to name it Solace because that was what I wanted it to represent, a place of peace for women like me or ones who didn’t have their own means to do anything.

Like I’d asked, Asif hired four of his best to guard the place, and they didn’t play. My favorite was Julian, who wore a full-on silk press, because homeboy was crazy and didn’t play. Not to mention, people were afraid of him around the city because they knew of his off-kilter personality.

“I’m happy you like it. Mr. St. Thomas told us to listen to you and don’t question anything. He also stated there was no budget, which was my favorite part,” Muriel jested before chuckling.

We had bedrooms—ones large enough to accommodate women with children and then smaller ones for the single women. In addition to that, we had a treatment center with certified nurses, other than me, therapists, and even food stamp cards for the ones without employment and mailboxes as well. This was just the first one, though, and the plan was to open more like it around the city.

“Okay, I got the flyers.” Couture stood near the table holding stacks of them. “Everyone take a stack, please.” She began handing them off.

Yolani had already posted about it on her social media, so we expected a large turnout next week at the grand opening where we would be taking donations of money, food, toys, and learning activities for the children of the abused. I loved that she was so willing to help and take time out of her busy ass schedule.

This group of women that Analicia had essentially introduced me too were amazing, for real. Everyone was pitching in, in the name of womanhood, and making sure to dig in their men’s pockets if needed.

All the ladies took their flyers and began leaving the building to go pass them around the city. As I stepped out, I saw a lady walking up, clearly intrigued by what she was seeing.

“What is this?” she inquired timidly.

“A women’s center that’s opening next week. We take in women who are abused but also ones who have nowhere to go, especially if they have children.”

She stared at it as I talked and then focused back on me with a delayed smile.

“Next week, you said?” she questioned me just as I noticed her split lip.

“Yes. Is that too long?” She stared at me for a long while and then shook her head ‘no.’ “If it is, you can come this afternoon.”

Her eyes mushroomed at that before she said, “Are you sure?”

“I am. Get whatever you need, if you want to, then come back here by three p.m. If you can’t, go inside now.”

“No, three is perfect. My kids will be out of school by then—kids are welcome, you said?”

“They are.” I smiled.

She sighed a little out of relief, then said, “Thank you. I-I’m coming back.”

As she walked off, I hoped she did come back.

“I was thinking I can do their nails sometime,” Scotland said, making me turn around to see her standing behind me.

“That would be nice. Maybe like a weekday thing since I know weekends are busy for you.”

“Yep, sounds good.” She smiled. “I love what you’re doing, Stazi. I just hope women see this and take the help.”

“Me too.” I started walking with her so we could go pass out the fliers.

On the way, I chuckled at my sister forcing one into some man’s hand.

I couldn’t wait for next week.