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I gritted my teeth. “What do you want?”
Tisha gestured behind him. “We have some glammed-out pansy waiting outside next to our cars, sparkling with diamond cufflinks.”
I frowned. “And?”
Tisha curved his lips into a smile. “Can I shoot him? I ask because Maxwell claims that we cannot kill this guy.”
I held out my hands. “Why not?”
“Kaz?” Emily widened her eyes. “Baba and I have just been saying to keep it chill here and now you are asking why Tisha can’t shoot one of Jean-Pierre’s people?”
“Is it not a fair question?” I turned my view back to Tisha. “Why did Maxwell say we cannot shoot him.”
Tisha shrugged. “Apparently, this is one of Jean-Pierre’s cousins. He calls himself the Comedienne.”
“Oh.” I chuckled. “You can definitely shoot him.”
Baba let out a long breath. “This is going to be a very long trip.”
Chapter five
The Comedienne
Emily
Holding Lemonisha, Max entered the room. Casual, yet stylish, he wore a lavender linen shirt with the top unbuttoned. The outfit was complete with beige pants and leather shoes. A brimmed hat slanted to the side.
Instead of smiling my way, he scowled. “Alright, Em. Stop being a diva.”
“What the fuck?” I handed Emilio to Kaz and rose. “How am I being a diva?”
“We should have been off this jet hours ago.” Max checked his watch. “I need you to get off your Lauryn Hill vibe and get back to boss status.”
Kaz stood with Emilio. “Lauryn Hill vibe?”
“Lauryn Hill is one of our favorite singers, and unfortunately she’s known for showing up three to four hours late to her concerts.”
Max gestured for us to leave the bedroom. “Come on. We don’t have time for a music lesson.”
Kaz glared. “Calm down. Do not rush my mouse.”
“Man, I’m trying to get this first meet with Delphine over with.” Max frowned. “I wasn’t even going to come, but Baba kept insisting the whole flight that I should be there.”
“Alright, man.” I nodded. “Let’s go then.”
I headed out of the bedroom.
Out in the narrow hallway, Max handed Lemonisha to one of the men from Harlem Crew. “Take her to my suite and give her a light mist of water while you play Louis Armstrong’s What a Wonderful World.”
The man gave him an odd look but nodded.
“Start the song first. Then, mist.”
The man nodded again.
Max marched off.
I inhaled Lemonisha’s sweet scent as I strolled by her.
