Page 126 of The Need to Know

“Good, we’ve been getting steady traffic thanks to Paisley and Ezekiel collabing at his club,” I said.

My father held his hand up, stopping me. “Just asking. You don’t gotta report to me.”

My hand began to shake. “I know you think it was easy getting the store, but it takes a lot of energy to run it on our own.”

“I don’t doubt that, Nas,” my father said gently. He took a deep breath and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Listen, it shouldn’t take your sister coming down for a visit for us to see you. For us to see your new boyfriend. You and your sister can use each other as a crutch all you want, but your mother and I are still gonna be hard on whoever you bring through that door. Thankfully, this time you both chose right. Oisin seems like a strong young man, and I like that Ezekiel doesn’t run over you.”

I didn’t know what to say, because for once, my father wasn’t disappointed in me.

“Thanks,” I said softly.

“So why the distance? Why this wall between us?” my father asked.

Weakly, I felt tears coming to my eyes. “I just don’t want to feel like I’m a failure.”

At once, my father brought me into his chest as I began to cry. “Hey now. You’re not.” He wiped at my eyes and held me at arm’s length, so he could look at me eye to eye. “I’m hard on you, because I want the best for you. I don’t want you or your sister depending on some man to take care of you. I don’t want my girls thinking they need men for anything. I want you to be strong and independent, and you’ve shown me that. You and Paisley built Shéc and it’s succeeding. I’m proud of that. I’m proud of you.”

Like a river, my tears flowed because I couldn’t remember the last time my father said he was proud of me.

I hugged him close and felt so much stress lift from my shoulders. “Thank you. Thank you.”

He rubbed my back. “I’m sorry it hasn’t been clear. I’m sorry I was more rude than tough—I was out of line. I just got worried the path you were on wasn’t a good one, but I should’ve handled things better, and I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t make the best choices, but I learned,” I said as I pulled myself together.

“I’m proud of you,” my father said again. “And I love you. I’m so very sorry for ever making you feel less than. I was out of line, I was an ass, and you have my complete permission to knock me upside my head if I ever step out again.”

I couldn’t imagine hitting my father. “Daddy.”

Like a papa bear, he grabbed a Kleenex from the coffee table and cleaned up my face and I felt like a little girl all over again. “I think our tenant/landlord relationship has gone on long enough, don’t you?”

I paused, unsure if I heard him. “Excuse me?”

He chuckled as he handed over the tissue. “I’m stopping the rent agreement. We only started it to show you that you couldn’t just be lazy if you weren’t in school. You’ve held your weight without fail and have never been late on rent. I trust you in your life choices, Nastasia, and I’m going to step back and let you have your house in peace.”

“The house is mine?” I asked incredulously.

My father nodded. “I need to sign over the title officially so you can handle the taxes, but yes.”

I couldn’t believe it. I rushed over and hugged him again. “Oh my God!”

His laugh shook us both and I didn’t think I could ever let go. “All the money you’ve been paying us for the last four years is also yours. Your mother’s been holding it in a savings account for you. We just wanted you to be responsible, and now that we know you’re safe, you can have it back.”

I was feeling so much at once, I thought my heart would burst. I didn’t care about the money or the title of the house officially being mine, I was just elated to know my father was proud of me, that he loved me, and that in his own stubborn way, he’d always cared. Love. Love beat money and materialism any day.

Pops woke me up Sunday morning with a phone call, telling me we were having a meeting at the club. As comfortable as I was, I dragged myself out of Nas’s bed, hit the shower, and met my father in Atlanta.

The fact that Pops was calling a meeting on a Sunday of all days meant something. It was early, BLVCKJVCK had a whole day ahead before it opened at ten this evening. The chairs were stacked on top of the tables and most of the lights in the Club Suite were off. With Pops nowhere in sight, aside from his car being parked in the lot next to Cesar’s, I knew he was up in his office. Sure enough, I found them there seated in front of Pops’s large black lacquer desk.

“What up?” I greeted Cesar with a fist bump and gave Pops a hug before rounding the desk and taking the seat there.

In the plush leather chair, I felt like a man. Younger me always got excited when I got to travel with my father during the summer to Miami or Los Angeles. I got to trail my father and watch him work, watch him own the city as he walked into any building and was instantly rewarded respect. All of that intrigued me, but what really made me feel my blood rushing, was going into every private office his clubs held and taking a seat behind the owner’s desk. I was a tall kid, but the massive chair took a lot more than my stature could ever fill.

Not anymore.

The chair had always been a symbol of my father’s reign and power. Something that inspired me and made me look up to him in awe. Even now, with him still owning BLVCKJVCK, I loved sitting behind the desk. Feeling important. Feeling like Pops’s son.

“Was you asleep?” Pops wanted to know as he studied me as I took my seat.