Page 8 of This is Law

She took us to a booth, where my boys sat on the same bench, and I sat across from them. She sat three menu’s in front of us, we thanked her for it, and then she left, going back to the front.

“I’m starving. I want everything. Mozerella sticks, a burger, wings, and I’m probably going to get some dessert, too,” Creed voiced, and Legend was right there, agreeing with his brother. I just shook my head. These two niggas could eat you out of a fuckin home. That’s one of the things that Yaya would complain to me about. She’ll buy a bunch of groceries, mainly fromSams cluborCostcobecause she liked to buy groceries in bulk for these greedy ass kids, and just as quick as she would buy the groceries, they would be gone in about a week.

Yaya was a great cook, and the boys would have home cooked meals just about every night, but most nights, there were never any left overs because they would always have to go back forseconds, or thirds. They’d gotten their big appetite from me. Back when Yaya and I were married, it was three men that she would have to keep fed, and even though her ass was always talking shit about it, I knew that feeding her boys was one of her favorite things in the world to do.

About two minutes later, the waitress came over. Young, black girl. Probably in her early twenties. We’ve eaten here so much, that when she came over, she greeted each of us by our first names. The boys ordered soda, and for me, since it’s been a long day, I went ahead and ordered whiskey & coke. We ordered appetizers for the table, and we all knew our entrée orders too, so we didn’t waste any time putting that in as well. Our waitress, whose name was Courtney, let us know that she would go ahead, and put the orders in, and from there, we all focused our attention on the TV that was in front of us.

Five minutes into that, my phone started buzzing on the table. I looked down at the caller, seeing that it was Dutch hitting me. I went ahead, and slid the bar across, and I answered the phone for him, putting it to my ear.

“What’s good?” I answered.

“Shit. You’re a single man now. You should be fuckin about three hoes right now,” he joked, and I shook my head at that. He wasn’t the first dude in my life to have told me this today. I talked to two of my homeboys earlier, and they both said the same thing.

I would never throw Yaya under the bus, but because of her, I was well fucked, and I could chill for a lil minute, and wouldn’t have to fuck anything else. I wasn’t surprised that me, and Yaya did that toxic shit, and fucked earlier today. That’s the way we’ve always moved. Some of our biggest arguments and fall outs over the years have led to us fuckin. I wasn’t going to make that a cycle though. I meant what I told her ass earlier when I was buried deep inside her about me not fuckin her anymore.Feelings were going to get involved like that, and somebody was going to be hurt. I was a single man, that was free to do what I wanted to do, and I know if I slid through, and fucked Yaya occasionally, she was going to catch feelings and then be ready to kill me if shit got leaked to the public of me out with another bitch. Same here. If she was giving me pussy, and then doing that shit to another nigga, I was going to be ready to spaz out.

“Nah man. I’m chilling. I’m with my boys. We at dinner,” I responded, hoping that he would wrap this conversation up, once I told him that I was bonding with my two.

“Cool. I’ll make it quick then. Kross just got home. I can feel it in my gut that that nigga about to come home and be on the same wild shit that he was on before he got locked up. I just hit him, and asked him what he was doing, and he getting ready to hang out with the same niggas that had him out here doing dumb shit in the past. Because I can tell that that’s the kind of stupid timing that he’s on, I’m hitting you because I want to put you on payroll for him. Just in case with that nigga, you know?” he asked, and when he finished, I just sucked my teeth.

Kross was Dutch’s son. He was younger than me. Only twenty- four years old, but the way that nigga moved, and how childish he was, you would have thought that he was the same age as my sons. Dutch’s baby mama had Kross when I was fourteen years old. His baby mama was some woman that he was fuckin around with, but she wasn’t local. She was from Cali, but she would come out to Miami often. During one of her visits to Miami, her and Dutch had messed around, and that’s how Kross was conceived. From what Dutch told me; she never told him about the pregnancy. She knew that a nigga like Dutch, that was deep in the streets would have told her to get an abortion, so she waited until after their son was already born to let him know that he was a daddy.

At fourteen, I remember hopping on a flight with Dutch, and we went out to Cali, so that he could see what the fuck was going on. He was quick to ask for a DNA test, and once everything checked out that Kross was his, Dutch did what the fuck he had to do as a man, and he took care of his son. We would fly out to Cali often, so that he could see Kross. His baby mama’s name was Noelle. Bitch was fine as fuck, but she would stress Dutch the fuck out. For the first five years of Kross’ life, she would never let Dutch bring Kross back home on a flight. She was screaming that Dutch was in too much shit in the streets, and she didn’t want her son getting mixed up with that, and getting caught up in the crossfire if some shit were to go down.

In a sense, I understood where she was coming from, but she had already fucked that nigga, and had a baby by him, so it was too late for her to suddenly try to think logically. By the time I started college, I wouldn’t make that trip to Cali with Dutch as often to see his son. Dutch would tell me about that lil nigga over the phone though and tell me just how bad his ass was. He was always fighting in school, getting kicked out of school, and all of this had taken place when his ass was only in elementary. By the time he got to middle school, Noelle washed her hands with him and sent his ass down here to live with Dutch. That lil nigga just needed to get fucked up one good time, and I felt like his actions would have been better. Over the years, he was constantly in trouble with the law, and he was one of those dudes where you couldn’t tell him shit because he was too rebellious, and he wouldn’t listen.

I didn’t fuck with Kross. Me, and that nigga had deep issues. I had to put my foot in his ass twice for thinking that he was going to disrespect me. The nigga grew up with his fuckin daddy, yet he still had daddy issues, feeling like Dutch treated me more like a son, than he did him, but I didn’t agree with that stupid ass statement. Not even a little bit.

“Nah, I don’t know. I don’t fuck with that nigga, and you know that. After our daughter passed, that nigga said some disrespectful shit about my wife... I mean about Yaya, and I don’t fuck with him. You know that, man. You the same nigga that taught me as a young boy that all money wasn’t good money, so I’m just sticking to what you taught me, and passing on that. He’s the last nigga to have a lawyer on payroll for because to him, he’s going to take that information, and translate it to him going out, and fuckin up in these streets because he know he has a lawyer on deck that’s going to handle his fuck up. Nah. Ima pass,” I shot, ready this time to wrap this conversation up, and call it a day.

I had plenty of niggas that had me on their payroll. A lot of scammers, killers, drug dealers, but even people that were legit had me on payroll. I don’t judge how a man chooses to make his money. Shit, it wasn’t my business. For Kross though, I didn’t want anything to do with him.

“I can’t even be mad at you for saying that. He did say some disrespectful shit about Yaya, so it’s only right that you hold that nigga accountable for it. I’ll hit you later though. Go ahead, and enjoy dinner with your boys,” he responded. I didn’t reply. I just hung up the phone, and I tossed it back on the table.

I was shocked that Dutch would even ask for that kind of favor from me, knowing that I didn’t fuck with that nigga like that. Back when Sarai passed in her sleep, it got back to me that that nigga said to someone that Yaya was the blame for it. Talking about, she was crying over the shit like it wasn’t her fault. Till this day, I don’t know what the fuck convinced him to say that goofy ass shit. Kross has never stepped foot in my house, didn’t know shit about my families dynamic, so for him to make that comment, not only did it make Yaya cry, but it also pissed me off, so I went, found him, and I beat the shit out of his ass.

I haven’t fucked with him ever since. About a month after that happened, his stupid ass went to prison for a little over a year. He was in possession of a firearm, and he couldn’t do that shit because he was a felon. At the time, Dutch knew damn well that he couldn’t ask me to help get him off because the comment he had just made about Yaya was too fresh. I probably would have killed Dutch for even asking me that shit.

Here we are, a lot of time had passed, and Kross was out of prison, and I guess Dutch felt like I must have forgotten about the comment, and let it go, which could be the only reason he had the balls to ask me this. Dutch knew I was the best attorney out. Niggas out here weren’t moving like me, and that’s why he wanted the best for his son, but as far as I saw it, it was fuck his son, and I would forever feel this way!

Chapter Four

SORAYA ‘YAYA’ CRAWFORD

Crazy how life worked. Yesterday, I walked into my office building, still a married woman. Today, I walked in, and I was now a single woman. I decided that I didn’t want to drop my married name, ‘Crawford’. I’d achieved too much with this last name. This name was tied to a lot of clients, different contracts that I’ve signed off on, and it was tied to my business. Also, the biggest one of all was that I wanted to keep the same last name as my children. Even though Sevyn and I were no longer married, it was still a legacy that the two of us built, and out of spite, or just being petty, it wasn’t in my plans to ditch the last name.

When I walked into the building this morning, my team almost had me on the verge of tears. They all knew that yesterday I wasn’t going to be in the office, due to me having to go to court, and finalizing the divorce. The second I got to my office, there was the most beautiful flower arrangement that I have ever seen before in my life, sitting on my desk for me from my team, and a note that read, “To new beginnings”. I needed that little ‘pick me up’ because heading to work this morning, after dropping the boys off to school was a pain filled one.

Sevyn, coming over, and fuckin me like that yesterday only made things worst. Last night, after vibing with my sister,drinking wine, and eating some good food, I had been fine for the most part, but once Shai left, and I was home by myself, waiting on my boys to get back from their night out with their dad, that’s when that reality that Sevyn had told me about of being single had hit me and boy did I feel that shit. It was hurting me now, but I was a strong person, and I knew that I was going to kick this shit, and I would be just fine.

My best friend Milan couldn’t make it to our little girls night. Her ass was in Cali, still laid up with a dude that she was messing around with out there, so she didn’t hop on her flight when she was supposed to.

I was behind my desk, with myStarbucks drink in my hand. My order fromStarbucksnever changed. I would always get the ice brown sugar oat milk shaken expresso, and you couldn’t tell me that this wasn’t the best drink on the menu. My reading glasses were on because I was tuned into the document that was on my screen. I was looking over a press release preview for one of my new clients that I was representing. His name was Coolio. He was a young artist. Only nineteen years old, and he was an R&B singer. He had all the ladies in a choke hold right now. He was from Miami, a little rough around the edges, but my team could work with him, and get him PR trained, just as we’ve done with so many artists. A lot of his singing videos had gone viral, so it wasn’t long before he signed a big deal with a very popular record label here in Miami. The label that he signed to, I work with just about all their artists, so I wasn’t surprised when they reached out, wanting to get Coolio added to our list of clients.

I was tweaking things from the draft that was sent to me, when there was a knock at my door.

“Come in,” I responded, not bothering to take my eyes off the screen.

My office door opened, and I quickly glanced up just to see who it was. It was my executive assistant, Michelle, walking in. Iloved Michelle with every piece of me. Even though this was my business that I started from the ground up, and it was my blood, sweat and tears that went into this business, it was Michelle that was the key player in my empire. She’s been with me from the very beginning. I’m talking before I got this beautiful office located in downtown Miami, just a couple of miles away from Miami beach. She’s been here before the high-profile clients, the six and seven figure contract deals, and before this company was even a name.

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