Chapter 2

Whiskee

When I calledMahogany and told her Carlos and I were going out tonight, she was so excited she decided to come over and help me find something to wear. Since this was technically a business dinner, we decided on a Nadia satin gown from A.L.C. Its ochre-yellow hue looked phenomenal against my whisky-colored skin. I loved satin and silk because they accentuated my petite yet curvy frame. A frame I'd spent the last three years building to my desired taste.

I didn't chisel and tone my abs and waist and grow my ass for a man's approval. My body and style of dress had never been for the male gaze. It was for myself, and I loved dressing nice for the girls. There was nothing better to me than a woman hyping another woman up. I was truly a girl's girl. Men enjoying my looks and style was often an extra.

It didn't take long to find my outfit. The bulk of my time was spent on my maintenance. As it neared five p.m., I finished my pin curls and got ready to start on my makeup, which was the last thing I'd have to do.

"Okay, Whis. White or red?"

Turning in the seat of my vanity, I smiled as Mahogany held up two bottles of wine by the mini bar in the sitting area of my room.

"Hmm… let's keep it light and go with Moscato."

"Gotcha."

As she poured us both a glass, I turned and looked at my reflection in the mirror. The lack of eating had sunken my cheeks. My eyes were dark and puffy from crying daily. I was almost ashamed of how I'd temporarily let myself go, but I chose instead to give myself grace. With a loss like the one I'd endured, I didn't think anyone would blame me for not giving a damn about how I looked.

"Are you nervous?" she asked, handing me the wine. I took a sip then set it on the vanity.

"A little. It feels like I'm being included in a boys' club that I've never wanted any parts of." Chuckling, I selected my foundation for the evening. "I've never wanted to be included in the business and Daddy kept me out of it. I hope Los doesn't think that's about to change."

"Did you tell him that when he asked you to come?"

I shook my head. "No, but I will. I want to make sure he understands this is just a one-time thing."

"I don't blame you. The less you know about that lifestyle the better. I know it's what he and your father have done for years, but still. Mama Renee stayed out of it, and I want you to stay out of it too."

I completely agreed with her about that. I think Mama's chosen delusion about what Daddy did was what allowed her to live with such peace. To her, he wasn't a drug dealer; he was simply a provider. She didn't ask questions about the business… nor did she ask questions when he'd have to leave abruptly or come back home with busted knuckles and someone else's blood on his clothes. That ignorance kept her soft too.

We continued to talk as I did my makeup. Mahogany was an influencer and brand ambassador for several companies. I always did her hair and makeup when she had to do paid content. As we finished going over her schedule for the rest of the month, Carlos came in to see if I was ready. I told him I'd be down after slipping into my dress and shoes. The look he gave Mahogany didn't go unnoticed. She was looking great tonight herself in jean shorts, a button-down shirt, and cowboy boots.

This March weather was all over the place. One day it was warm enough for shorts and mini dresses and the next we'd need our coats. She was taking full advantage of the high sixty-degree weather today, though, and I didn't blame her.

Once I was ready to go, we headed out of my room hand-in-hand. I gave her a hug and kiss before she headed to her car, then I went toward Carlos's Maybach. Since he was outside on a phone call, he opened the door for me. He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and said, "Lil stinky, you cleaned up nice."

"Shut up, boy, and let's go," I ordered through my laugh as I got in the car.

I could admit there were days where I didn't bother to get out of the bed for anything—not even to eat or shower—but that hadn't been the case yesterday or today, and that was progress.

He stayed outside for a while before getting in the truck, releasing a frustrated huff.

"What's wrong?" I asked as he started the truck.

"This nigga said he doesn't think we can do business together because he's heard I can be vitriol. I don't even know what the fuck that means."

His clipped tone and frown made it clear he was upset, but that didn't make it easy for me to hold my laugh in. Carlos was as hood as they come. Even with our parents providing for us as well as they did financially, he stayed in the hood with Daddy. As much as Mama wanted us both to go to college, Carlos didn't even make it out of high school. In the tenth grade, he decided he wanted to be a drug dealer like Daddy. Out of respect for Mama, Robert Carter told him he couldn't sell until he finished school.

Carlos forced Daddy's hand and started selling under one of his competitors. Because of that, Daddy took him under his wing. He dropped out of high school three months into that school year and hadn't regretted it since.

"Vitriol, or being vitriolic, means cruel or bitter criticism that is often unnecessary in my opinion."

"Hmm." His head bobbed and he massaged his goatee as he drove out of our gated driveway. "Is that really a bad thing, though? I need these niggas to fear and respect me as their boss."

"Yeah, but do you have to be unnecessarily cruel to do that?"

Carlos looked over at me briefly, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "Do you think I'm cruel?"

I huffed, thinking it over carefully. Carlos, like Daddy, was a hard ass, but he was a softy at heart too.

"I can't say how you are in the streets. With me, you have your moments but you're a softy too. I think there have been times where you've said things in a crass or insensitive way, but you weren't trying to intentionally hurt anyone's feelings."

"You do always call me an asshole."

"Well… that's true." We shared a soft laugh. "But you're a good guy too. I love you, even though you really can get on my nerves."

"Aww," he cooed, trying to pull me toward him by my neck.

"Carlos, stop!" I yelled with a smile as he kissed my cheek.

"I love you, Whis. For real," he confessed as he released me. "And I promise, everything I'm doing now is for you. For us. I told Pops if he got out of here too soon that I'd take care of you just like he did. Remember that tonight."

His statement, though sweet, made my heart drop. "I love you too, and I appreciate you. Will this meeting make me forget that?"

Carlos's mouth twisted to the side. His head shook. "Honestly… I don't know."