Page 27 of Memphis

I almost asked the tall, light skinned man standing before us who the fuck Rochelle was, but then I realized he was someone I once knew and fucked. Of course, he didn’t know my real name.

“Uh, hi…um…” I muttered.

“George…George Carson.”

“Yes, George! Crazy seeing you here!”

“Right!”

Cue awkward silence until…

“I’m Bo, George.”

I didn’t have to look at my boss, the dicktician, to know he was tight. If the energy he was now giving off didn’t tell me, his voice did. Still, I gave him my attention and watched as he stood, moving around the table to offer a hand to George. A smiling George took it, and Bo yanked him forward, saying something in his ear before shoving him away. George left rather swiftly without another word to me.

“The fuck did you say to him?” I asked once Darth Maul reclaimed his seat beside me.

Settling in his chair, he shared, “I told him if he ever came around you tryna get a whiff of your pussy again, I will gladly dislocate his dick and both his balls after I cut his head off.”

“Now, why would you say that to him? George is a good guy, and if I remember correctly, he had some good dick, too.”

He glowered at me, his nostrils flaring. “Keep fucking playing with me and you will become a prisoner for real. You better hope no other niggas approach you tonight because I’ll fuck this whole building up.”

“You gonna fuck me up, too? You think I’d let you? And as far as me being a real prisoner, I’ll kill you first.”

He leaned in, kissing me before I knew what was happening. When our lips parted, he said, “I don’t doubt you will, and you might have to if you think I’ll ever let you go otherwise.”

The night’s MC kept me from responding, as the festivities began.

Imaginemy surprise when I discovered this was the mayor’s birthday party. The mayor of Parkton, that is, who was now making a bid for a US Congress seat. What the fuck were we doing at Mayor Shari Young’s birthday party? The question played in my head as we ate the too-good soul food dinner and sat through the speeches from her friends and colleagues, but as soon as the DJ started playing music and the dance floor began to fill, I turned to him, ready to get an answer to my burning question.

But then I heard, “Mr. Pierce, so glad you could make it tonight.”

It was the got damn mayor!

The fuck?

Bo stood to greet her with a quick hug and a peck to her cheek. “Where else would I be, Mayor? You know I had to come celebrate with you.”

“Well, I appreciate you, as always, and thank you for the gift.” Damn, her scrawny ass was gushing all over this nigga.

The hell?

“You’re welcome! And this lovely lady is Memphis King. She’s a local business owner.”

“Oh! Really?” she squeaked, her overly enthusiastic attention now on me. “So good to meet you! What’s the name of your business?”

She’d moved closer to my side of the table, her hand outstretched.

I took it and gave her a fake smile. “Likewise. I own a day spa—Face Card. It’s over in the Montblanc shopping center.”

Her mouth fell open. “What?! That’s where I get my facials! That place is fabulous! Why have I never seen you there?”

I shrugged. “I’m a hands-off business owner. My staff is more than capable of keeping things afloat.”

“Oh, I agree! Wow, Mr. Pierce, you’ve got yourself quite a catch!”

Bo smirked. “Believe me, I know I do.”

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