Page 110 of Invisible Bars
I nodded. “I think I will be.”
It felt good to laugh. It felt like… family, even if everything about it was insane.
Chapter Sixteen
IMANIO “GATEZ”
“Oh, goodness!” Saroya blurted, glancing at her ringing phone. “Give me a second, Imanio—I have to take this.”
“Handle yo’ business,” I said as she scurried out of the room.
We were at my other house—the one I used strictly for business.
Interviews, meetings, and the occasional forced photo op.
I never let outsiders near the place where I actually laid my head. That kind of access was earned, not handed out.
That day, it was an interview. I couldn’t decide what I hated more—interviews or photoshoots. Either way, both felt like a performance I didn’t sign up for.
I stared at my closet like it just told me “good luck” with a smirk and walked away. Staring back at me were dozens of suits—charcoal, navy, brown, black, eggshell, pinstriped, double-breasted, Italian-woven. All lined up like soldiers, arranged by color with a precision that felt more like control than style.
And I still hated every damn one of them.
Giselle,of course, had done it during one of her surprise visits—called it ‘helping.’ I called it another way to get under my skin.
Saroya wasn’t just there to prep me for the interview; she was supposed to help me pick out a suit that looked “the part”… something polished. But with her stepping out to take a call and my patience running on fumes, I grabbed one myself.
I sighed and pulled out a black suit with a silk lapel.
The expensive kind. The type of suit that looked like it had stories behind it… even if I didn’t feel like telling any.
“This interview is bullshit,” I muttered, tossing the jacket onto the bed before reaching for the shirt—also black, also stiff, also screamed ‘ask me invasive questions I’ll pretend to answer.’
I wasn’t one of them friendly billionaires.Never been.I earned everything I got by being ten toes down and twice as cold, and I didn’t talk unless it mattered.
“Oh, I see you found something!” Saroya exclaimed chipperly as she stepped back into the room.
“Yeah. Do you approve?” I teased, just enough to keep things light.
“Actually, I do! You’ve got good taste.” Her tone shifted a little—more cautious now. “Um, Imanio, I know I’m just starting and this would’ve been my first interview with you, but… I have an emergency. My son’s school just called. He’s running a fever, and I need to go get him. I promise things like this don’t usually happen. My sister, who’s currently out of town, typically steps in for stuff like this when me and my husband and I are at work, especially with how demanding my job is. Not that I’m saying I’d ever put my kids above my job, but?—"
I held up my hand—not to shut Saroya down, but to let her know she didn’t have to explain all that. I didn’t have kids, but I was still human.
“Saroya, it’s cool. I get it. I mean, I don’t have kids, but I understand. Shit comes up. And family should come first… especially your kids.”
She looked at me like I’d just told her I was about to hand over the company.
“You’re looking at me like you expected me to say something else. Want the ruder version? I could say, ‘fuck your kids, get back to work.’ Was that what you were expecting?”
“Well, no… notthatharsh,” she said with a half-laugh. “But I didn’t expect you to be so… understanding.”
“I’m usually not… but Ikind oflike you… as my publicist. And I’d do just about anything to keep my mama from stepping back into that position again. And… I damn sure don’t have the patience to sit through another round of interviews. That shit nearly killed me. So I’m willing to compromise... on a few things… your child being one.”
Saroya smirked. “I need to meet this wife of yours.”
“Why?” I raised a brow, instantly picturing Naji and wondering what the hell she was up to.
“I want to see if maybe she’s rubbing off on you. Making you a bit... nicer.”
