Page 33 of The Don’s Virgin Obsession

“Well, handle it, nigga. I pay you not to call me. I’ll be at the spot tonight,” I heard him say.

I walked into the walk-in closet. It was a decent size for a single apartment. I stopped and looked at the framed photo on the closet wall. It was of a little Black boy and girl. They looked like siblings. I studied the photo, and the boy had to be Vaughn.

“That’s how our kids gon’ look,” I heard Vaughn say from behind me, and he was all in my space. So close I could smell his cologne. Then suddenly, I felt his hand around my waist. I jumped and turned around quickly. His hands fell from my waist.

“What are you doing?” I asked, eyebrow raised.

He threw his hands up in defense, smirking like he ain’t just tried to come on to me.

“My bad. I don’t want no smoke.”

“I’m sure you don’t. Let’s go over the contract. I hope you have it typed up,” I told him, brushing past him and out of the closet.

He walked out behind me, and I knew he was watching my ass giggle, so I stopped beside him.

“Lead the way,” I told him.

We walked to the property office and sat at the desk. He pulled out his MacBook, and I did the same.

“You said 500K a building. I can agree to that. That’s for you and to pay your team. All materials and furniture will be covered by my budget. Everything else is in the contract. I’ll email what I’ve drafted because I don’t do lawyers for this part. I don’t expect you to sign it today. Look it over, then get at me.”

“I hope I’m not signing my life away.”

He smirked. “Read it and find out.”

I gave him my email, and he sent the PDF over.

My phone vibrated in my hand almost instantly with the email. I opened it from my laptop and skimmed the first page, not reading too deep, just enough to see how detailed he was.

He wasn’t playing about his business.

I closed the file and looked back up at him. He was already watching me.

“You always move this fast with business?” I asked.

“When I know what I want.”

I nodded slowly and stood up, sliding my iPad and laptop back into my bag. “I’ll go over it tonight.”

“Do that.”

I started toward the door but paused before opening it. Something about him didn’t sit right with me. Not in a bad way… I just knew this nigga wasn’t normal.

“You don’t ask for much input for somebody hiring a designer,” I said without turning around.

“I asked for yours. That’s all I need.”

I glanced back at him over my shoulder. “You didn’t ask. You decided.”

A small smirk pulled at his mouth. “Same difference.”

I shook my head lightly and pushed the door open. “We’ll see.”

As I walked out, I could feel his eyes still on me, heavy, steady, like he wasn’t done with me just yet.

And for some reason…

I didn’t feel done with him either.