Page 30 of The Millionaire Mortician
He stepped closer. “I’ma get straight to it. Stay away from my clients and stay out my territories. I had an understanding with Mallo, and I expect the same from whoever steps in his shoes.”
Maverick leaned forward with heat in his eyes. “See, that’s where you got it twisted, my nigga. We ain’t Mallo. We ain’t playin’ understudy to nobody. We’re our own men. His understanding ain’t ours.”
Frost smirked, tilting his head. “So that’s how it is?”
“That’s exactly how it is,” Maverick shot back.
“You do your thing, and we’ll do ours. But don’t think for a second you gon’ dictate how we move. That part is dead,” I gritted, keeping my voice calm but firm.
The silence after was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Frost let our words hang, sizing us up as if he were testing where the cracks might be. Then he chuckled, low and cold.
“Aight. Say less.” He turned and headed for the door. Before he stepped out, he looked back over his shoulder. “But don’t say I ain’t warn you.”
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the office heavy with unspoken tension.
Maverick blew out a breath, shaking his head. “That nigga really walked up in here like he the muthafuckin’ boogeyman.”
“He’s testing the waters,” I pointed out. “Trying to see how far he can push.”
“That nigga can’t move a muscle over here.”
“Facts,” I agreed, but my eyes stayed on the closed door.
Frost didn’t look like he was the type to waste words. His warning meant something was coming. It was just a matter of time before we saw when and how. Uncertainty settled in the room like smoke after blowing a spliff. However, one thing I knew for sure. Maverick and I had stepped into a different game, and Frost wasn’t gon’ bow out quietly.
Iwas just finishing up my last client for the night as I cleaned up his taper. My feet were barking loud as ever, but my spirit was good. The salon was packed earlier, with clients in and out, phones ringing, and money flowing. And that’s all a girl could’ve asked for. Still, I was ready to shut it down, pour myself a glass of wine, and sink into my couch to relax.
Finally, looking up from my client’s head, I caught sight of two familiar silhouettes by the glass front. Even before the receptionist buzzed them in, I already knew it was Milan and Maverick. As they walked in, I observed how different they were, with two completely distinct auras. Milan was calm and collected, appearing to be always three steps ahead of the world, whereas Maverick was a totally different story. That man wouldwalk into a room and instantly search for who he could charm, test, or play with.
Sure enough, by the time the door clicked, Milan was already sliding toward my office with his head buried in his phone like he didn’t see me. Mav, on the other hand, caught the eye of one of my stylists and was grinning so wide you’d think he was about to put her on his payroll.
I glanced over at Talina, who was sweeping up by her station, and she shot me that look like,girl, here he goes.I sent her one back with my lips curled. At the end of the day, though, everyone was grown. I couldn’t save anybody from what they thought they wanted.
When I finished with my client and brushed him off, I cleaned my station, sanitized everything, and finally made my way back toward my office. As soon as I opened the door, I saw Milan leaning back in my chair with his phone in his hand, scrolling with that same blank face. I wasn’t even sure he blinked at whatever he was looking at.
Mav trailed right behind me like he owned stock in the place. And the second his eyes hit the bouquet of roses I got from Fabe, sitting on my desk, his mouth got slick. “Damn, where did these come from?” he quizzed, smirking like he already had a theory.
Milan’s eyes quickly lifted from his phone and doubled down with his twin’s energy. “Word. Where did they come from?” His tone wasn’t as playful as his brother’s, though. It was calm, but serious. To me, it was too calm. The kind of calm that had heat behind it.
Not missing a beat, I hit them with a quick smile and slid right into my little half-truth. “One of my clients dropped them off earlier as just a lil’ congratulations for the grand opening, that’s all.”
It wasn’t a lie, but it damn sure wasn’t the whole truth, either.
Mav cocked his head. “Word? Client, huh? Male or female?” he pressed, trying to be messy.
I rolled my eyes hard enough to see the inside of my soul. “Why does it matter? Y’all are doing too much.”
Brushing past his instigating ass, I started gathering my bag like the conversation was over. Although no other words came from Milan, I could feel his gaze burning holes straight through me. That man didn’t need to say much. His silence always said plenty. At that moment, I was just trying to get out of dodge, and fast.
By the time the last head in the salon was finished, the twins stuck around, making sure the girls locked up right. True gentlemen or not, they weren’t leaving until everybody got to their whips safely. I appreciated the small gestures they made.
As I was climbing into my truck, I peeped my stylist, Ashley, sliding into Maverick’s Maybach.It’s not my business, I shook my head. They were grown, and I had no control over grown people. Still, I prayed she knew what she was getting herself into.
When I pulled off, Milan was right behind me, like a shadow I couldn’t shake. Home was the destination, and I couldn’t wait to get there.
The next morning,I was behind the wheel, bobbing and weaving through traffic with my coffee in one hand while I steered with the other. My mind kept replaying how off the night before was.
When Milan and I got home, an awkward vibe lingered between us. We didn’t say anything to one another. It was pure silence.
