Page 21 of Sugar Baby
Laughing, I shook my head adamantly. “Absolutely not! I’m just surprised. You don’t strike me as the bible reading, church going type.”
“Aw yeah. The bible is a life handbook. I apply God’s principles to my relationships. He demands we be hot or cold, not lukewarm. I do too. I don’t play games in relationships. You either committed and mine and only mine, or not mine at all. He don’t chase you, and He gives you free will to choose Him.
“So do I. I’ll pursue a woman as long as I know she will be mine, but I’m not going to force anyone to be with me. He makes it clear what He requires from me as a man in order for me to qualify for the gift of a wife, and I’m striving to be that. So like I said, I need you to be able to talk to Him. Who knows. Maybe talking to Him for me will be how you start talking to Him again for yourself.”
“You are not Jonathan Majors, and I am not Meagan Good,” I teased, and the fact that he didn’t know what the hell I was talking about only made it funnier. After I explained Meagan Good had done an interview with her husband a while back and said she’d kind of lost her faith after her divorce but praying for Jonathan started the process of restoring it, he laughed before saying . . .
“I mean, we definitely ain’t them, but that’s some real shit. And it does happen. If all that comes from our timetogether is me helping you make your way back to Him, I’d be cool with that.”
“You just got me and you’re talking about letting me go already?”
“Oh hell nah. I ain’t letting your ass goperiod. That just sounded like the mature thing to say.”
My giggles turned into loud laughter when he pulled me down onto the bed and started tickling me. Tickles led to kisses and touches, which led to him being inside of me again. For a brief moment, I considered if he was right. If he was my way back to God. If he was, I had to admit I wouldn’t be opposed to it.
Chapter
Twelve
CASH
Heaviness had been sitting on my heart since I left Sugar’s house last night. I understood her hesitance to talk to and trust God again. That was a common reaction after something as shattering as losing a parent. While some relied on God through faith for the transition, some allowed that to be what caused them to stray away.
Before making any moves today, I stopped by Pops’ grave. I missed him more. This was a situation I would have gone to him to help me navigate as a man. Though I appreciated being able to talk to my mother about literally any and everything, some things I would have preferred to have his input on. I prayed then talked to his spirit, though I knew it was resting, and I allowed all that he’d taught me while he was here to guide me on what to do.
After that, I stopped by Tristan’s office to let him in on what I was thinking about the app. Without him havingto do any research, he knew from personal experience from his own profitable parlays. I told him a little about Tyreek and how smart he was and how I wanted to gift him with something that he could nurture and watch grow over the years. He assured me that he’d have his team do some research, and since I already had the firm on retainer, he was willing to help us strategize if we decided to do the app.
As soon as I made it back to my Corvette, I checked my phone and saw that I had several missed calls from Rhakeem and Dre. If both of them were calling me, that meant something was going on with the business. Though Rhakeem was my best friend and right hand man, Dre and Michael were who I trusted most with the day to day leg work of running my supply business. They kept my teams in line, made sure everything was everything at the farm, and kept me abreast of any threats when the streets talked.
I decided to call Rhakeem back on a secured line because I didn’t want to wait to know what was going on until we got face to face. He answered but didn’t speak right away as he lowered the volume on his music.
“Wassup?” he greeted.
“Shit, wassup?”
“You talk to Dre?”
“Not yet. Did I need to call him first?”
“He can give you more details than I can. I was calling to see what you wanted to do about the shit.”
“Do about what?” I asked, brows wrinkling in confusion.
“He said one of the trucks were hit.”
Chuckling, I rolled my tongue across my cheek. “What truck? The food truck, right? Because I refuse to believe amotherfucka got the balls to steal from one of my other trucks.”
Rhakeem released a hard exhale.
“Nah. That truck. I ain’t got the details. Call him, then call me back and let me know what you want me to do.”
That’s what made us a good team. Rhakeem didn’t feel no type of way about me being the boss of this shit. He had his own role, and he did it well. He was my soldier. He was disciplined and had no problem following rules. Any command I gave that man he carried out with no fucking hesitation. People knew I was a blatant threat, but one of the worst things they could do was not think Rhakeem was a threat too. He pulled his piece first, but he was just as deadly as me—if not more. While I tried to give grace and operate from a certain set of principles, when it came to business, money, and those Rhakeem loved, he didn’t give a fuck aboutnoneof that shit.
I ended the call then dialed Dre’s number.
“Boss man,” he answered as wind howled in his background. It filled me with pride knowing my team was out and about handling business. I had peace in knowing I didn’t have to check in on them and follow their every move.
“What’s going on? Somebody hit one of my trucks?” I confirmed.
