Page 18 of Grown Folks Confessions: Black Lush

“Right. It never aired because I kind of fucked it up,” I admitted. Instead of looking surprised like I thought he would, Ares just seemed to be listening, awaiting more. So I continued.

“When I initially signed up for the experiment, I wasn’t even sure what I was going to do. I was surprised when I received a call after my interview for the show from Madame Social herself. Long story short, by the end of our conversation, my experiment wasn’t that exciting, but not all of them were like Meeka and Ivy’s. Basically, my experiment was to get my business off the ground and document it every step of the way, and luckily, they let me out of my contract.”

“But you’re successful at business,” Ares chimed in. “Everyone in Chicago asks you to stage or design something for them. And didn’t your great aunt leave you a bunch of money that you used to invest in your dream?”

“She did, but that money is all gone,” I confessed.

“All of it?”

I nodded, trying to figure out the best way to explain it. “Yeah. I’m in mad debt and I made some bad business decisions and invested in some mess I shouldn’t have, like that unique bookstore and dispensary that was supposed to open and never did.”

“Yo, my guy invested in them dudes, too. They cheated folks out of so much money.”

“I know, me being one of them.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, sinking more into the couch. “I’m so stupid for trusting those idiots, but honestly, I made some poor decisions before that.”

“You’re not stupid,” he said, taking my other hand in his. I knew my palm was kind of sweaty, but he didn’t seem to care. “You took a chance, and it didn’t pan out. So what? Shit happens. If it’s about the money, I can help.”

I was already shaking my head before he finished his statement. “No, what I asked you to come by wasn’t for money, but something that requires much more from you.”

His eyes held mine. “What is it?”

I swallowed, determined not to back down from telling him now that I’d laid out everything I needed to for him to understand. “Ares, I’m a finalist for a design competition for one of the top interior designers in the country, Navaeh Lily. She’s kept the competition low key for now, but plans on making her decision in a few weeks. One thing about Nevaeh, she values family over everything, and in prior competitions she’s held, every contestant that has won was in a relationship.”

“And you told them you had a boyfriend?” Ares asked.

“Something like that.” I grinned in a way that I was sure looked kind of goofy, but I did it sometimes when I was nervous. It didn’t fit my bad bitch persona, but Ares knew me too well for labels anyway. “There are four other finalists, but really, it’s between me and this other guy. Both of us have worked with celebrities before and we have similar experience, only he has a partner, and I clearly don’t.”

“You already know I’m good with playing your boyfriend,” he said. “We’ve done this shit before.”

“Playing my boyfriend so you can meet the NBA players that were clients at my last company so that you can land them as tattoo clients is one thing,” I told him. “But playing myhusbandis entirely different. Especially when you have to do it for four days.”

“You just slid the rest of that right in there, huh?” he asked. The smirk that curled at his lips caught me off guard.What’s he thinking?

“I know playing my husband is a lot to ask, but Nevaeh is having a retreat for the finalists in which we’ll learn how to successfully rebrand our businesses before she announces the winner and our spouses are welcome to join those workshops.”

“I’m in.”

“And I think it would be great for your business, too, because even though she’s an interior designer, she’s dabbled in plenty of things over the years,” I continued. “Who knows what connections you’ll make. The prize is two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and I would invest in your mobile tattoo luxury sprinter as a thank you.”

“I’m in,” he repeated.

I heard him agree the first time, but Ares often jumped into things without having all the details and I needed him to really hear me out.

“The retreat is in Phoenix by the way.” I refrained from chipping at my nail polish again before I revealed that, “Nevaeh gave us strict instructions and prompts to complete before the retreat, and we’re supposed to self-document our journey, which means I’ll have to get you in some of my shots and videos—even client meetings—when I complete prompts so that it doesn’t look suspicious. She’s really big on partnerships and supportive spouses.”

This time when he spoke, he leaned to me and emphasized his words. “I told you, La, I’m in. I do have one question though.” His eyes briefly dropped to my lips. “Does being your play husband include sex?”

“No.”

“Oral sex?”

I shook my head. “Not that either.”

“Do you expect me not to have sex with anyone else?”

I scratched the side of my neck, pushing my passion twists to the side. “No, I don’t think that’s fair, so you can fuck Audrea or whoever else. I just ask that you keep it quiet.”

Slightly tilting his head, he let me know that, “I’m good with not fucking anyone while we do this. And I’m still in, but I won’t be mad if you and I fuck around by accident while playing house.” He wiggled his eyebrows the way he often did when he was joking around, but also kind of serious.

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