Lover's Island, page 6
Nyimah rolled her eyes and ignored Jabari’s comments. She walked outside and pulled the two suitcases from her trunk. Jabari wanted to argue. After all the shit he had put her through, it was hypocritical of him to be upset over unanswered phone calls. Nyimah rolled the suitcases into the foyer and closed the front door. She bypassed Jabari, who was still seated on the couch, smoking. She went into her bedroom and began unpacking.
“You know,” Jabari said while approaching the bedroom, “the first night I let that shit slide. You deserved to have fun. But when you hang with bitches like Paige, bitches who ain’t used to shit, you can expect all your moves to be over social media. Riding jets and shit. Still, I wasn’t tripping yet. Nah, not yet.” He stood in the bedroom’s doorway.
Nyimah sat on the floor, facing the bed, with her back turned to Jabari. Paige and all that damn posting, she thought. Impressing her followers was more important than moving in silence, knowing Paige’s logic. “What’s your point?”
“I’m getting there,” Jabari said as he choked on the kush smoke. “Imagine how a nigga feel after dropping twenty stacks for his girl and her thirsty-ass friends to take a trip. Imagine spending hours of your free time to plan a romantic day, spending a thousand dollars on a plane ticket so you can surprise this person, only to find them not there. Imagine the insult you feel when you get to the hotel and find out your girl hasn’t been there the entire weekend. How would you feel?”
Nyimah paused her unpacking and turned to face Jabari. She hadn’t expected him to come to Vegas, but who was she kidding? For her to expect Jabari to do something nice for her without it benefitting him in the end was foolish. Jabari had sold her on the idea of a girls’ trip, knowing he would pop up. It was typical Jabari behavior. He had buttered her up with the trip while secretly plotting how to get back in Nyimah’s good graces. Perhaps if they didn’t have a toxic history, the gesture would’ve been romantic. Simpler women would have swooned in this moment, but Nyimah was disgusted.
“You were spying on me,” she concluded in disbelief.
“I was trying to do something special for you!” he yelled. “I know I been fucking up with you lately. I ain’t shit, but I’m trying to be better. Can you say you trying?”
“Now you want to try!” she exclaimed. She attempted to walk out of the room, but Jabari blocked her path.
“I’m trying to talk to you, yo. Let’s be real with each other,” he said.
Nyimah pointed to Jabari in disbelief. “You want to be real? With each other? Okay, bet. Let’s,” she said. Then she sat on the bed and crossed her legs.
He shrugged and leaned against the doorframe. “All I want.”
“Since we’re being honest, I’ll start. When’s the last time you cheated?” Nyimah wasted no time getting to her point.
Jabari kissed his teeth. He lowered his arm behind his neck, and he scratched the top of his back. The “fuck boy” gesture. “Shit, it’s been a minute,” he lied.
“Word?” Nyimah chuckled and shook her head. She unlocked her phone to locate her receipts. She pulled up a picture of Brielle she had taken the day she did her hair. Then she hopped off the bed, walked over to the door, and showed Jabari her phone. “She look familiar?” she asked with a smirk.
The shocked look on Jabari’s face said it all. The player in him, however, quickly replaced the look with one of confusion. “I ’on’t know who shorty is,” he responded.
“Nigga, save it. She told me everything. About how y’all been fucking for months, how you drop bags on her. Yeah nigga, all that. So don’t try to play me for a fool,” Nyimah replied calmly. She knew Jabari would deny everything. He was such a good liar that if Nyimah didn’t know any better, she would think his words were almost believable. But, for this exact moment, she had had Brielle send her the picture of her laid up with Jabari. Nyimah pulled the picture up on her phone’s screen and slapped the phone in his face. “Does this help jog your memory?”
Jabari looked at the picture, scoffed, and scratched his head. “Man . . .”
“I really don’t care to hear your lies. You want me to be honest now?” she said with a renewed sense of confidence. Cree had fucked her into a brand-new woman, and she wouldn’t return to the old Nyimah, who had let shit slide easily. “Let’s get into it. You’re right. I wasn’t at the hotel. We did get flown out on a GV. We didn’t get back to Vegas until early this morning.”
Jabari flicked his nostril with his thumb in irritation. “Who were you with?”
“I met someone,” she answered simply.
“Oh, you met someone,” he scoffed. “So, you expect me to believe you met a nigga for the first time, and he invites you to fly on his jet? Niggas who having don’t move like that for strangers,” Jabari continued. He figured Nyimah had had someone lined up already.
“You may not move like that. Doesn’t mean other niggas don’t,” Nyimah replied. “But I didn’t know him prior, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Did you fuck him?” Jabari asked as he observed Nyimah. She wasn’t the disloyal type, by any means, but he had seen a change in Nyimah over the past few weeks. His temperature rose at the thought of another man touching her. No matter how many times he had stepped out on her, Jabari expected Nyimah to play her role and keep his pussy on lock. It was a selfish ask, but those were his expectations. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too.
Nyimah contemplated telling Jabari the truth. To explain how she had got dicked down by a man she was sure she had fallen in love with. She wanted to rub Cree’s success in Jabari’s face. She thought of shattering his ego by bragging about how much bigger Cree was in all aspects compared to Jabari. She wanted to humble him so badly, but Nyimah knew the confrontation that would follow that. Jabari deserved to be left agonizing over the thought of “What if?” “No, I didn’t fuck him,” she finally said. In her mind, that was partially true. She didn’t fuck Cree. She serenaded him with good loving. “You’re welcome,” she said as she pushed past Jabari and marched out of the room. She stopped in the hallway and faced him.
“I’m welcome?” he asked, confused.
“Look, I don’t want to fuss. I’m sorry that I missed the romantic day you had planned. I’m sure it would’ve been lovely. But now can you show me the same grace I’ve given you over the years? I don’t want to keep talking about this,” she stated.
Jabari threw his hands up. Nyimah had managed to flip this entire situation on him in a matter of minutes. She had pulled his cheater card and had invalidated all his concerns. He gave in because he knew Nyimah had a point. “I’ll let it go. As long as you know where home is, I ain’t worried about no jet-renting, flodging-ass nigga,” he said.
Nyimah went back into the bedroom to conceal her amusement. You should be worried, she thought. “Good,” she replied and resumed unpacking.
* * *
Cree landed in Fort Lauderdale just in time to make Sunday dinner at his mother’s home. He came from a big Haitian family. In addition to his brother, Pierre, Cree had three younger sisters. His mother cooked a huge dinner every Sunday and opened her doors to a host of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Even though there was so many of them, their family was tight knit, and they always made time for each other. Cree was next in the line of succession; he would succeed his dad as the head of the Baptiste crime family. Over a century ago, his family had aligned itself with a few other prominent families to form a crime conglomerate. They had solidified this pact through marriage and ensured that wealth would be passed down through the generations of their offspring. Because of this, Cree was expected to be with Zenova, since their two families were at the head of the table.
The families had amassed hundreds of millions illegally through the drug and arms trade. Their Cuban connections allowed them access to an overflowing narcotics pipeline. To the public, the family became rich off the spice trade. As his father’s oldest son, Cree was expected to assume the position of leader next. Cree didn’t want the job, however. He had decided on a different route after serving a yearlong bid in prison nearly six years ago.
“Coming in!” Cree exclaimed as he entered his mother’s mini mansion.
“Is that my baby?” Loveleen asked from the kitchen.
Cree smiled as his mother rounded the corner from the kitchen and hugged him. Loveleen Marie adored her oldest son more than anything in the world. Parents weren’t supposed to have favorites, but everyone in the family knew Cree was Loveleen’s golden child.
“Hey, beautiful lady,” Cree said as he embraced his mother and kissed her forehead. “That food smelling good.” His stomach growled as the aromas of dinner invaded his nostrils.
Loveleen patted Cree’s back as she guided him to her chef’s kitchen. “I made tassot and pwason boukannen,” she said, knowing that those were Cree’s favorite dishes from their homeland. She dipped her spoon into one of the pots and brought it to Cree’s lips.
He licked his lips and closed his eyes and tasted. “It’s good, Ma.”
“Love! You deny me until all the food is finished, but you spoon-feeding him?” Fabian’s baritone blared before he appeared in the kitchen.
“Oh, be quiet! You know it’s his favorite,” she admonished her husband and waved him off.
Fabian shook his head and reached out to shake Cree’s hand. The two men were spitting images of each other, except Fabian had long locks. “How was Vegas, son?” he asked.
Cree shook his father’s hand firmly. “It was refreshing, Pops. Much needed.”
“Pierre joining us?” Fabian asked.
“Nah. I think he got a few things to handle,” Cree answered.
Fabian nodded and kissed Loveleen’s lips gently. “I may be late getting back to dinner, love. Put my plate in the oven.” He stroked her ebony skin. “Good to see you back, son. We’ll chop it up.”
“No doubt,” Cree replied.
Loveleen moved around the kitchen. “Help me set the table,” she instructed Cree.
He nodded and grabbed the ceramic plates. He carried them carefully and followed his mother into the grand dining room. He knew not to drop the dishes that’d been passed down for three generations. The mahogany dining table that was in the middle of the room sat fourteen people. Sometimes that wasn’t even enough for the family. They would pull in chairs from the patio and line them against the wall.
“Ma, you remember that dream you used to tell me about?” Cree asked as he placed the plates on the golden place mats.
Loveleen raised an eyebrow as she set the silverware down beside the plates. She had felt something weighing on Cree when he walked through the door, but she hadn’t been able to figure out what it was. “Well, I have a lot of dreams. Which one?” Loveleen was blessed with the gift of sight through her dreams. She would dream of fish, for instance, when someone was pregnant. Many of the events in her dreams had come to pass, and now family members sought her out for guidance.
“The dream about me and the girl,” he replied. He recalled Loveleen telling him when he was fifteen about a recurring dream she had in which Cree met his soulmate. She had told him about how he brought the beautiful woman home to meet her. Loveleen hadn’t been able to make out her facial features, but she remembered the girl having rich brown skin. She had dreamed about the woman two more times after the first dream. She was convinced that this woman was somewhere in the world and that fate would bring her and Cree together.
“Oh,” Loveleen said. “Of course I remember. It’s why I tell you that you aren’t meant to be with Nova.” She placed the last fork on the table and wiped her hands against her black apron.
Cree sighed and rubbed his hands together. “I met someone . . . in Vegas.”
Loveleen’s eyebrows furrowed as she analyzed Cree. She removed her apron and hung it up in the kitchen. She poured two glasses of her fresh squeezed lemonade and handed one to Cree. “Come on, baby. Let’s talk,” she said and motioned for Cree to follow her.
They ended up on the patio in the backyard. Beautiful flowers and green vegetables surrounded them. Gardening was one of Loveleen’s favorite hobbies. She never had to purchase any vegetables or herbs from the grocery store, because she grew everything she needed at home. Loveleen sat down in the plush lawn chair and took a sip of the lemonade. The Florida sun beamed down on them. Loveleen thanked herself for settling for her emerald-green sundress today.
“I felt something weighing on you when you walked through the door. Heavy energy. I couldn’t decipher if it was good or bad. So, talk to your mother,” she said.
“My mind’s a little fucked up. Excuse my language,” he replied and laughed. “Her name is Nyimah.” He pictured Nyimah in his mind as he briefly closed his eyes. “From the moment I saw her, I was drawn to her. Couldn’t keep my eyes off her,” he told his mother and blew out a breath.
“She must be beautiful,” Loveleen commented.
Cree nodded. “Beautiful is an understatement,” he said. “I think it was the way that she carried herself that really attracted me. She was at the craps table and was taking everybody’s money, gracefully. I ended up taking her to my beach house in Malibu.”
“Is she from Vegas?” Loveleen asked.
“Nah, she’s from Carolina. North Carolina. We connected in a way I can’t explain. It’s like I’ve known her all my life. I didn’t even want her to leave.” He chuckled.
Loveleen smiled at Cree, who was blushing like a lovesick teenager. “Do you have a picture of her?” she asked.
Cree nodded and pulled his phone from his back pocket. He scrolled to a picture he had taken of Nyimah on the beach. She wore a two-piece bikini and was holding both of her arms in the air and smiling widely.
“Oh, she’s gorgeous! And she fits the description of the young lady from my dreams. What does your heart tell you?”
Cree shrugged. “That she’s the one.”
“Then follow your heart,” Loveleen urged. “You know Nova been telling your father and Aunt Nadia that y’all are getting back together?”
He shook his head. “You know how Nova is. She’s into keeping up appearances. I’m going to tell her wassup, though.”
The sounds of shouting and footsteps inside the house drifted out to the backyard patio. Family members had started to arrive and announced their presence by yelling out hello.
“It looks like you’re about to have your chance,” Loveleen commented.
Five-year-old Sanai burst through the patio door. “Grandma!” She wore a pastel pink Chanel dress and had fresh pigtails and ribbons in her hair. “Daddy!” she exclaimed when she laid eyes on Cree.
Cree scooped Sanai into his arms and kissed her nose. “Hey, baby girl. You missed me?” he said.
Sanai smiled brightly and nodded. “I didn’t know you were back. Did you have fun?”
“Daddy had a lot of fun. I have a surprise for you too. Where’s your mama?”
Sanai ran into her grandmother’s arms and hugged her. “She’s coming.”
As if on cue, Nova stepped onto the patio. She wore a two-piece SKIMS set that accentuated her curvy frame. Her naturally wavy hair was slicked back into a long ponytail. “Cree. I didn’t know you were back,” she said to me. “Hey, Ms. Loveleen,” Nova greeted dryly.
Loveleen rolled her eyes. She had never cared for Nova. There was something about her that Loveleen couldn’t put her finger on, but she didn’t trust her. Her intuition and her hunches were usually right. “Nova,” she said. She placed her hands on Sanai’s cheeks and smiled. “Let’s give your mommy and daddy some time alone.” Loveleen stood and ushered Sanai into the house.
“How you?” Cree asked.
“I’m good. It’s good to see you. I’ve missed you, Cree,” Nova said as she sat beside him. “How was your trip?”
“It was cool. I went ahead and got Sanai’s summer shopping done. I’ll Apple Pay you some more money. I know you’ll probably want to do some shopping of your own for her.” Cree rubbed his beard gently.
Nova smiled. She loved to see Cree stepping up. He had never cared to shop with her. He left things like that up to Nova. It was just another reason for her to want to finally take the next step with Cree. “You shopped for Sanai by yourself? I’m impressed,” Nova said as she smiled.
Cree grimaced slightly. He wouldn’t tell Nova that Nyimah had helped him pick out most of the clothing for Sanai. “We got to talk,” he said lowly.
“Okay, but first, I have something to tell you. I’ve been talking to Aunt Nadia, and she’s agreed to let us stay in her villa in Key West for a weekend of our choice. I thought a romantic getaway could do us some good. I know it’s been a while since we were alone intimately,” Nova said as she slid closer to Cree. “How does that sound?”
Cree sighed as he listened to Nova ramble on. “That’s nice but—”
“Isn’t it?” Nova squealed with excitement, cutting Cree off. “Next weekend would be perfect for my schedule. I’ve already followed up with my private pilot, and your dad agreed to watch Sanai for us. I wanted to surprise you, but I thought running everything by you first would be best.”
Cree closed his eyes as he listened to Nova explain her plans for two more minutes. She barely allowed him to get a word in. Finally, he couldn’t wait any longer. “Yo, Nova, we have to talk,” he said sternly, interrupting her.
Nova frowned as her heart dropped. “What’s wrong? Is everything good?” she asked as she held Cree’s hand in hers.
“Everything is fine. I wanted to talk about us,” he stated.
Nova chuckled lightly and moved in to kiss Cree’s lips. He turned his face before their lips could connect. Nova dropped Cree’s hand and cleared her throat. She looked around to make sure no one had witnessed this embarrassing moment. “Am I under the wrong impression? I thought we were working on us. A few weeks ago, you said you wanted us to work out.”
“I said I wanted us to work for the sake of Sanai. Not that we were getting back together,” he replied. He took a deep breath. “It’s not happening, Nova,” he said finally.
