Page 16 of Brown Sugar

The main guy she was gyrating on rushes toward a chair against the wall where her things are. He delivers her phone as if proud he’s proving his use. By the way he eyes her—the way he so fucking happily let her rub up against him—he’s hoping he’s up next.

Now that she’s broken up with her boyfriend, he’s aware there’s a window of opportunity.

“Thanks, Justin.” She takes the phone, barely sparing him a glance, and begins texting.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m telling Tommy this… this thing is over. Sorry, Goliath, but you don’t fit my—put me down!”

I’ve scooped her up in my arms, turning around like I’m carrying a five pound package and not a ‘whole grown-ass woman’ like she’d called herself. The dancers watch in confused silence as I carry her out of the dance studio.

We make it all the way outside before I set her down.

She goes into attack mode, rushing at me with fists she pounds into my chest.

“Don’t you ever fucking do that again!” she screams. “You work for me! I can fire you at any time! And you’ll do what I say!”

Her anger’ssupposedto be intimidating. She’s trying to put her foot down.

But I couldn’t be less fazed by the public tantrum. A few people have taken notice, muttering among themselves about whether it’s really Kiana they’ve spotted.

“Your phone’s ringing.”

She’s so pissed, barking at me like a damn little chihuahua, she almost doesn’t notice. She answers as angrily as she’d snapped at me.

“Tommy!” she says. “Yes, you read right! This has been a disaster from the first—what do you mean he’s staying? I don’t want him anymore! The label sayswhat?”

I fold my arms over my chest, watching the anger fade from her face. Shock and disbelief take its place, her jaw dropping open.

“That’s not fair! I get a say in who my security—Tommy, this isn’t over! I refuse to listen on this!”

The phone call cuts off. The dial tone hums from her phone, audible even though it’s not on speaker. Her alluring brown eyes flick up to me as she lowers the phone from her ear. She’s been stunned speechless.

I cock a brow, my lipsalmostspreading enough for a grin. “You through with your tantrum, princess?”

“I can’t believe this is happening to me,” she mutters under her breath. “The label’s demanding you stay. The contract is ironclad.”

“You’re a valuable asset,” I reply. “The label and your manager are protecting that valuable asset. A brand worth a billion, right? Like I tried to tell you, but it went right in and out of that little hard head of yours—there was a direct attempt made on your life, princess. This is no fucking laughing matter.”

She closes her eyes like she’s counting backward from ten. “Anyone else in the world…”

“You ready to head inside and finish that practice of yours or are you done? A crowd’s gathering.” I motion my head at the spectators that have slowly accumulated over the last minute or two.

She glances around as if seeing them for the first time, then sighs.

“Take me home. I’m done.”

My large hand falls to the small of her back as I begin guiding her toward my Hummer. I can’t resist giving her a hard time, teasing her after all the shit she’s pulled. “What princess wants, princess gets.”

“You got a sec, Tyson?” asks Clint. “I’ve got some new info you might want to hear.”

“Shoot,” I answer, getting up off my couch. I walk toward the window for a peek outside at my isolated neighborhood. Trees, trees, and more trees. “What’d you find out?”

“You already know all the basics. Name, Rashad Williams. Age twenty-two. Record since he was a juvenile that includes assault, armed robbery, illegal possession of a firearm?—”

“Then tell me what I don’t know,” I interrupt on an impatient note.

“It’s what you suspected. Rashad was just the fall guy. The guy hired for the job.”

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