Hook Shot (Hoops #3)(22)

Guilt stabs me. I haven’t talked to her as much as I should have since my father died.

“I’ll call her,” I say, releasing a heavy sigh. “She didn’t sound too good last time we spoke.”

“Same,” Kenya replies, her voice uncharacteristically subdued. “They were married forty years. Most of her life was with Dad, and they had one of those epic, forever kind of loves.”

“Yeah, if I hadn’t seen their marriage with my own eyes, I wouldn’t think it was possible.”

“Let’s both call this week.”

“I may do one better,” I say. “I need to go to Philly and check on Faded, that barber shop I invested in. I’ll swing through to see Mama.”

“Take Simone with you. She hasn’t seen her grandmother in a while, and Mama would love to see her.”

“As long as she doesn’t start in on Simone’s hair again,” I groan.

“Well, Simone does need to do something with that head, and Bridget has no idea how to help.”

“Give Simone a break. She’s figuring it out.”

“I offered to help her,” Kenya says defensively. “She wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Yeah, but you just buy hair,” I say, laughing because my sister wears extensions year-round.

“And you know this,” Kenya says, laughing back. “Hair is trouble, man, especially during the season. I could get Simone’s own hair tight if she’d let me. Is Lucius still managing Faded?”

“Yeah. I’m thinking of asking if he’d be interested in opening another shop here in New York? Maybe Brooklyn?”

“I don’t have to ask what you’ll be doing when you finally retire. You already have more businesses than I can keep up with.”

“More than I can keep up with, too. That’s why I pay someone to help me.”

“Well thank you for cutting your little sis in on some of that action since obviously I won’t become a millionaire playing for the WNBA.”

“Don’t even think twice about it. Just introduce me to this potential love interest soon.”

“Hey, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

The thought of Lotus being mine, of her in my life, in my bed, makes my dick hard.

I head back to the ice bath.





7





Lotus





There’s something calming about sewing. The hum of the machine. The rhythm. Watching a creation take life and shape under your hands in real time. It’s always soothed me in ways few other things do. I was a wild, angry, damaged twelve-year-old when I landed in MiMi’s care. She wasn’t sure how to occupy my time, how to direct the violent storm churning inside of me, so she tried everything. Some things stuck, and some didn’t. But from the first time she sat me down at her Singer, sewing made sense.

“You almost done with that?” Yari asks from the doorway leading back to the atelier’s workroom.

I like to sew alone. It gives me time to think. Out there on the floor, there’s a dozen languages the seamstresses speak, flying around and distracting. And the gossip is non-stop. I like to see where my thoughts take me. Sewing is meditative and not for the chaos of the workroom.

“Yeah.” I hold up the dress for Yari’s inspection. “I had to tear the whole seam out and start all over.”

“Looks good.” She takes the dress, folding it over her arm. “I’ll get this to the seamstress so she can start on the buttons. Meanwhile, JP wants you in his office.”

“Did he say for what?” I stand and stretch out the muscles locked tight while I concentrated at the sewing machine.

“Nope.”

We leave the backroom together, she headed for the workroom, me up the steps to JP’s office. His door is open, so I knock on the doorframe. He glances up from his position on the floor, kneeling in front of a woman easily six feet tall.

“Oh good,” he says around a mouthful of pins. “You’re here.”

I walk over and hold out my hand. He drops the pins from his lips into my palm.

“I meant to ask you something yesterday.” Still on his knees, he shifts on the floor from her front to her side, adjusting the fuchsia material he’s draping into the shape of a dress for the September show. I rotate with him, handing him a pin without him having to ask. We work well together, read each other well.

“Yesterday?” I frown because JP is notoriously last-minute. “What do you need?”

“Your eye. Your sense of style. Your essence.” He bats his lashes through all the BS flattery. “For you to come with me on a shoot today.”

“Sure.” I nod and hand him another pin. “I didn’t know we had one scheduled.”

“It’s kind of last minute.”

Shocker. “Oh?”

“Yeah, Kenan’s going out of town next week, so I asked Chase if he could shoot today instead.”

I accidentally prick my finger with a pin at the mention of Kenan’s name.

“You know,” I say, sucking the sore finger, “maybe I should stay here. We’re expecting that shipment of silks today, and I wanted to be here to receive them. It’ll throw off our whole production schedule if anything happens to that delivery.”