Page 15 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming
“What’s up, bruh?” Patrick asks.
“I think I’ve met the woman I’m going to marry. You remember how Granddaddy Roosevelt told me about meeting Granny Fran? I think I met her, man.”
“Tell me about her.”
“Her name is Lyric Annalise Fuqua. She’s beautiful, intelligent, driven, kind and … I don’t know how to explain it, but there’s something special about her. I can’t stop thinking about her, and it’s making me think about my granddaddy’s words.”
“That’s deep. How did you meet?”
“She works at The Firm. She’s handling this thing with Lee, Momma Dola and?—”
“Whoa, hold up. Let me stop you right there. You can’t mix business with pleasure. What happened to looking out for all the folks whose businesses you’ve helped? I’m sorry, bruh, but you have to keep your eyes on the prize. You know how shady Parker is. Getting involved with Lyric now is a no-go, my friend.”
Ranson called Patrick for a reason. While he was excited to share the news of meeting Lyric, he also knew his friend would bring him back down to earth. These are the words he needed to hear. Now the question becomes, will he listen?
“You’re right. I just have to push Lyric out of my head and concentrate on how to tell my dad about Lee’s start up.”
“You’re going to tell him?”
“Yeah, the plan is to cut him off at the pass, so he won’t have to go digging behind my back. We make Parker believe he’s in control of Lee’s business, while I do all the heavy lifting behind the scenes.”
“Your father’s ego is large enough for that to work.”
“You think?”
“Yep.”
The two men laugh.
Ranson hears the chime from his computer informing him he has another email. He smiles, hoping it’s Lyric.
Welp, pushing her out of my mind didn’t last long.
It’s not Lyric. It’s Morris. Ranson reads the email, and a chill goes down his spine.
Good evening Ranson,
Your father knows about your deal with Shandola and Lee. He trusts that you’ll make an informed decision.
- Morris
Shit.
“I just got an email from Morris. My dad knows.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly.”
3
LYRIC
Lyric and her friends are in her kitchen putting the finishing touches on dinner. They each take turns hosting every other month, and while the other ladies have nice homes, they always prefer coming to Lyric’s. Bridget once said that Lyric’s house gives happy, homey vibes. The decor is pure Southern hospitality. She has a front porch with a swing and a small table surrounded by wicker chairs. Her interior furniture is hard to find antiques, such as a large white wood dining table with matching chairs and a China cabinet. The color scheme is a bright pale yellow with splashes of white. The house could double as a high-end B&B. Lyric’s even had people offer her money to use her house for interior shots of movies and TV shows. She’s turned them down. The last thing she needs is people finding out where she lives. Especially in her line of work. Speaking of work…
“Can you at least give us a hint of who the assignment is about?” Bridget sips a glass of wine.
On tonight’s menu is cheesy potatoes au gratin, homemade Salisbury steak, and green beans with onions made in renderedbacon fat. The girls always insist on eating comfort food at Lyric’s house. She loves it. It reminds her of home.
