Page 86 of Invisible Bars
She didn’t fidget, blink fast, or try to fill the gap with fluff; she just waited.
I pressed the folder closed and shifted forward slightly like a judge about to deliver a verdict.
“I like you… for the position. If your background checks out, youmightjust be my new publicist.”
Saroya’s smile widened. “Really?! Oh, thank you!”
“Don’t thank me yet. We still have to run that clearance… and I don’t do half-assed background checks.”
“He ain’t lying,” Chi added, arms folded. “This man will find out if you cheated on a test in third grade or stole a Now & Later from a corner store in ‘98.”
Saroya chuckled. “I’m confident I’ll pass with flying colors,” she replied, standing to gather her things. “I’ll be waiting for your call. It was nice meeting with you both.”
As Chi walked her to the door, he couldn’t help but say, “Thank you for not being an asshole, ratchet, flirty, dumb, mysterious, or too pretty that the nigga wouldn’t hire you cause he doesn’t mix business with pleasure. That was... refreshing.”
Saroya laughed softly. “Sounds like the talent pool’s in critical condition.”
“You have no idea.”
As the door clicked shut behind her, Chi turned to me with both brows raised.
“Fuck her background; hire her ass! If you don’t hire that woman, I’m calling yo’ mama and telling her you out here fumbling potentially good workers.”
I smirked. “Nigga, youhatemy mama.”
“Facts! But I’ll make an exception this one time. That woman is PR gold! Adding to that, she doesn’t even want yo’ ass, which is rare. I’m telling you… you better hire her before the blogs do another piece on ‘Mysterious Mogul Kors Seen Brooding in All Black.”
I chuckled. “Shut the hell up!”
Chi loosened his tie. “I’m burning this damn suit the second I get to the crib. You owe me lunch, too, nigga. So where we going? I need a drink strong enough to erase the last interviews… before Saroya came along.”
“I got you,” I said, standing. “We can hit Prime Theory Steakhouse—that spot off Lenox.”
Chi’s eyes lit up. “That’s the one with the bar that don’t water down the drinks? Oh, hell yeah! And yo’ rich ass is definitely paying for that expensive ass place. I ain’t gon’ lie, though, that ribeye I had from there once was so damn good it made me damn near call my daddy just to say ‘thank you’ for nothing.”
I chuckled again. “Nigga, you wild. But look, I gotta make a run somewhere first. I’ll meet you there around twelve-thirty.”
“Aight.”
“Although yo’ ass works my fuckin’ nerves, I appreciate you for coming through today. It’s rare we get to do business where nobody’s bleeding or we’re hiding bodies,” I said, appreciative of Chi for always having my back.
“Facts. But is that supposed to be sentimental?”
I grinned, holding my palms up, walking backward toward the door.
“That was my version of a Hallmark card. Take it or leave it, nigga.”
I had a meeting with apreacher—not for prayer, not for peace. I wasn’t seeking salvation or Sunday morning sermons; I needed to get married.Fast.No questions, no church bells; just a signature, a vow, and silence.
The church office smelled like lemon polish and old guilt.
I stood by the window, not looking out, just watching the glass fog slightly from my breath. Behind me, the door clicked shut as Reverend Ellis entered, hesitant steps echoing in the quiet room.
“Mr. Kors,” he greeted, clearing his throat. “I was told you wanted to meet privately?”
I didn’t turn around right away.
“I did,” I finally responded. “Have a seat.”
