Page 118 of Heavy Is The Crown

Krys laughed softly. “Boy, I said I’ll think about it.”

“Mmhmm.”

Silence stretched between them for a second before Krys sighed. “Only thing is… I don’t know if I should bring Musa.”

Kenyatta chuckled. “Why not? I fucks with my boy.”

Krys shook her head. “Because Yatta, if some shit pops off down there, Musa is gonna act accordingly. And I ain’t tryna explain why a hundred pound Cane Corso done damn near mauled somebody at the marina.”

Kenyatta laughed. “And that’s exactly why I want him there. You acting like I don’t know how this city move. That’s my boy too now.”

Krys sucked her teeth. “Man, Musa ain’t your boy. You just met him.”

“Yeah, and he fuck with me. I could tell.”

“Musa fucks with very few people, Kenyatta.”

“A’ight then, so that mean I’m special.”

Krys groaned. “Please shut up.”

Kenyatta laughed, fully enjoying messing with her now.

“Look, Bae. Just think about it. Bring my boy. Let him come see the city vibe a little bit. He probably tired of being in that big ass house, anyway.”

Krys rolled her eyes. “You and this damn dog.”

“That’s our dog now.”

“Boy, bye.”

Kenyatta chuckled, then softened a little. “But for real. Come through, Krys. Let’s just…kick it. Good times and good vibes.”

Krys was quiet for a moment, like she was getting lost in the moment.

“A’ight.”

A smile formed on his lips. Kenyatta realized this wasn’t just another weekend or just a celebration; this was about to be something different.

**********

Krys stood in the center of her closet, hands on her hips, staring at the endless racks of designer pieces like she was solving an equation rather than picking out an outfit.

This was a barbecue, not a gala. Not a Midtown networking event. Not a luxury brunch.

She needed casual, effortless, but still stunning. Something that said she wasn’t trying too hard but was still the baddest in the building.

She sighed, pressing her lips together. Maybe denim shorts, a fitted tank, and sneakers. Cute, simple, effortless, and laidback. Or perhaps a sundress and sandals, the type of fit that had men fumbling their words and women giving side-eyes.

What about just being comfortable? A beige ribbed, bodycon, collared dress, chill, but showing off the body in all the right places paired with a set of low Nike Dunks that matched in color.

Musa, sprawled out across the floor near her vanity, let out a deep sigh, watching her pace. His big, blocky head tilted slightly as his tawny eyes followed her every movement.

Krys cut her eyes at him. “What?”

Musa let out a low, exaggerated huff, his massive paws stretching out in front of him.

Krys chuckled, shaking her head. “I know. I’m always doing the most. You should be used to it by now.”

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