Page 112 of Heavy Is The Crown

Musa flicked his ears, watching her carefully.

Krys rolled her eyes, sitting up. “Okay, you know what? I’m done talking to you. You’re just gon’ sit there acting like you got all the answers, huh?”

Musa yawned again, this time stretching out his whole body, then let out a deep, unimpressed sigh.

Krys half-chuckled, shaking her head. “Yeah, yeah, I hear you loud and clear. I’m tripping.”

She picked up her phone again, staring at Kenyatta’s last message.

He said he’d be there, and she couldn’t wait.

**********

Rosario’s was one of those old-money spots in Midtown. Classic, upscale, but not stuffy. It was the kind of place where power deals were made over plates of handmade pasta, where the owners knew the regulars by name, and the servers had been there for years.

The restaurant sat on a corner lot, nestled between a boutique cigar lounge and a high-end wine bar, the sidewalk buzzing with corporate professionals and socialites. Black luxury sedans and foreign whips lined the valet queue.

Inside, the space was warm but refined; exposed brick, dim golden lighting, polished wooden floors. A long marble bar stretched along one side, lined with dark leather stools, and the open kitchen in the back let the scent of garlic, wine, and fresh basil swirl through the air.

Krys had made a reservation, so they were immediately seated at a table near the window, the view showcasing Midtown’s sleek skyline.

Kenyatta took his seat across from her, leaning back, looking entirely too relaxed for someone she was about to interrogate.

“Damn,” he smiled knowingly, glancing around. “Ain’t even been on payroll for a full month and you already treating me to luxury meals?”

Krys rolled her eyes, setting her quilted Dior purse on the chair beside her. “Don’t get carried away. This ain’t a date.”

Kenyatta tilted his head. “Mmhmm. You keep saying that.”

A waiter appeared before Krys could respond, handing them menus and pouring chilled water into their glasses.

“Welcome to Rosario’s,” the older gentleman greeted with a polite smile. “Can I start you both off with some wine today?”

Krys barely glanced at the menu. “I’ll take the Chianti.”

Kenyatta smirked at her choice, then looked at the waiter. “Water’s good for me.”

Krys lifted a brow. “No wine?”

“Nah. I need to be sharp for this lil’ interrogation you about to hit me with.”

Krys shook her head, amused.

The waiter gave a knowing smile. “Very well. And for food?”

Krys didn’t hesitate. “The lobster ravioli.”

Kenyatta glanced at her, then back at the menu. “The rigatoni alla vodka. And add chicken.”

The waiter nodded before disappearing.

Krys took a slow sip of her water, eyes narrowing slightly. “So. How many people tried to tell you to get back in the game since you got out?”

Kenyatta’s lips curled into a slow teasing grin. “Damn. You ain’t waste no time.”

Krys shrugged. “What’s wasting time? We here, aren’t we?”

Kenyatta exhaled, rubbing his jaw. “Yeah…a few people.”

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