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“We are. My goal is to have it up and running by the spring. Fingers crossed that everything goes as planned.”
“That’s amazing. I can’t wait to see it.”
“Me either girl. Me either. You know what else I can’t wait for… some more of your soaps.”
“You’ve used my products?”
“Drix gave Law a box full of the one for eczema. My granny suffers from psoriasis and when Law found out, he came home with some and I’ve been using it ever since.”
“The oatmeal and lavender one?”
“Yesssss,” I drawled. “That’s the one. Gema loves it.”
“I’ll get your address before I leave and ship you some more.”
“Actually, I ordered some a few days ago. I’m just waiting on it to arrive.”
Pulling her phone out of her pocket, Promise tapped on the screen for a few minutes before nodding and shutting the phoneback off. “I found your order. I just refunded what you spent. As soon as it’s shipped out, I’ll send you the tracking info.”
“Promise, you didn’t have to do that.”
“Your man in a way saved my relationship. I owe him big time for that.”
“Aww.” Wrapping my arm around her, I pulled her into a hug. “Thank you so much for that.”
“It’s no problem girl. Trust me.”
“The muthafucking queen has entered the building.” Rossi voice rang out through the suite, garnering the attention of everyone in attendance.
“Who is that?”
“My assistant.” I laughed. “My very gay, very flamboyant assistant.”
“Well honey, he is working that tutu.” Promise snapped her fingers.
Sure enough, Rossi ass showed up in a black and red tulle tutu. He had on a Demonsjersey and under the tutu were a pair of tights.
“Somebody is in the Demonsspirit,” I teased.
“I love watching a bunch of men run up and down the field tackling each other. I’m trying to be on the bottom of a stack.” He giggled.
“Y’all have to excuse him,” Marsha spoke up. “We’ve been pregaming all morning.”
“That explains it. Promise, this is Rossi and Marsha.”
“Herbestfriend.” Rossi held his hand out.
“Move fool,” Marsha groaned.
“Promise is Hendrix’s girlfriend.”
“Oh my God!” Rossi gasped. “Not my man cheating on me.” He feigned hurt.
“Who yo’ man?” Promise asked.
“Drix.” Tilting his head, Rossi looked her up and down. “He didn’t tell you?”
“Do not pay this fool any mind,” Marsha butted in. “He’s got this harmless little crush on Hendrix.”