Page 6 of Cause When You Love Someone

Ishmael

S ometimes Ass Nigga

I had been sitting behind my desk for five hours, trying to break into the Traffic Management System in another state, and I still hadn’t figured it out.

The traffic signals in most cities were on a timer, so Shiloh asked me to hack into the server and override what was in place.

We didn’t want to risk any driver from Loh Wheels getting caught at a red light once off the highway, so we needed as much control as possible.

“Knock, knock.”

I glanced away from my computer when I heard Shiloh enter my office. The smirk on his face and the laptop in his grasp made me raise a brow. “Everything good, Loh?”

“You tell me. Looks like you need a break.”

My head jerked back. “You know me better than that. I would rather push through instead of taking a break and struggle to find my groove again.”

Shiloh’s gold grill came into view as he got comfortable in a chair across from my desk. He didn’t say much, but I knew the look of admiration stemmed from my growth over the years.

Twelve years ago, Shiloh and the Sons of Eshu stepped in when my one-on-one fight turned into a bunch of pussies trying to jump me.

When all the dust settled, Shiloh hired me to handle small jobs around his strip club.

However, when I turned eighteen and he learned about my black-market computer skills, he asked me to work as his executive assistant.

The job title threw me off, especially when he mentioned hacking.

The word assistant rattled my confidence.

Nevertheless, I learned being the right-hand to a man who ran a delivery service that transported drugs was much different than I assumed.

I also learned about the six-figure salary.

“I’m working, Shiloh. What do you need?”

“Wow. Niggas in their feelings about something?”

My back fell against the office chair. “My bad. I just have a lot . . . never mind. You know when I lock in, I don’t like the outside noise.”

“And that’s why I want to talk to you. I have a job for you if you want it.

” Shiloh leaned forward and intertwined his fingers.

“I know outside of the warehouse, you have your freelance hacker shit going on, but you deserve to have something legal with your name on it. Eshu’s Shield is in motion, and I know I’ve been trying to convince you to join the team, but I’m thinking bigger.

I want you to have stock in the business. ”

“Shiloh, do I look like a bodyguard to you?”

He laughed. “I’m not one to judge another nigga, but the glasses don’t take away from your stature. I’ve seen you in action. Get on your Superman shit.”

“Why me? I thought Draco was thinking about moving down here to handle the firm.”

“I can’t trust many other people to do it. Not only have you worked with me for years, but you’ve also been a part of my squad. You’ve had your hands on my money and been around my kids. I trust you with the reputation of our business.”

“Damn. After you put it like that, how can I say no? I have never even thought about being a bodyguard, let alone owning a firm. I would have to do the job to understand how to run the company.”

Shiloh whipped his MacBook open. “I’m happy you said that.”

I felt my face rumple with skepticism. “Oh, Lord. Here we go.”

“Get yo’ panties out yo’ ass, Ishmael. I haven’t told you what’s going on.”

“You’ve said enough. I should’ve known you were up to something when I saw you were in the warehouse before me.”

“Man, don’t make it seem like I don’t get to the money before the sun comes up.”

I gave Shiloh a blank stare. We both knew that since he met his wife, Stevie, the gold-mouthed boss had changed a lot over the last few years.

He waved me off. “Fuck all that. You’re about your bread, so I thought you’d be down.”

“All right. I’m listening.”

Shiloh smiled as if I had already agreed to his proposition. “The firm got a call from the manager of C. Rose. I asked who referred them, and she said they got our information from someone in the mall.”

I listened intently, only moving around in my seat when I realized he was referring to the lady Izzy and I saw at the store last Sunday.

“Her manager said they need someone solid. She wants someone clean-cut with a killer instinct.”

“Tell her we can’t help her.”

His grin bled into a snarl. “Fuck no! We ain’t passing up on no money.”

“All money ain’t good.” I removed my glasses. “Do you even know who she is? She’s a ratchet ass reality personality who believes an app makes her a star.”

“Ish, you sound like a bitter broad. Why the hell you give her the information if you didn’t want her to use it?”

“I didn’t give her anything.” I scoffed. “Izzy’s big mouth ass gave her a card.”

Shiloh clapped. “That’s my girl! Always about her business. I thought she inherited her hustle from you. I guess not.”

“Shiloh, you can’t manipulate me to do anything.”

He rose from his seat and wiped invisible wrinkles from his slacks. “I know. But I know you’ll do everything to make sure Izzy has what she needs. College ain’t cheap, but you are. Your stash gotta stay heavy.”

Shiloh wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know, yet it was a reminder I needed.

“Do you even know what this woman is about?” I followed up.

“I did a little research. Like you said, she’s the biggest star on Cleo TV. Her money is long. I don’t give a shit about the rumors.”

I reclined in my seat and pinched the bridge of my nose. “I guess it would be good for the company.”

“Exactly! Eshu’s Shield is new. Being able to add ol’ girl to our client list would be a good deal. The pay is seven stacks a week for six months, then you’ll receive an increase. Travel expenses are also covered.” He shrugged. “The deal is solid, plus she’s pretty.”

“She’s pretty, but she doesn’t have a choice but to be. What she didn’t need to do was walk around the mall in a floor-length fur.” I groaned. “Why does she need protection in the first place? I thought she was supposed to fight and get paid for it.”

“Ask her during your interview.”

He responded so fast, I almost missed it. “Interview? Yeah, I really need to think about it.”

“Don’t think too long, Ish. You either want the bread, or you don’t.”

“How long do you expect me to fill the position?”

“Until it no longer fits you. We both know your stuck-up ass will jet once you’re not feeling something.”

My eyes snapped up from my computer. “I don’t like that shit. Pick another word.”

“I don’t give a shit. It’s the truth. You always got your nose up. You hate the hood?—”

“I don’t hate it. I just didn’t have the same experience as you. My core memories are trash. Crackheads in the hood are only funny when they don’t live in your house,” I declared. “I’ll think about the job and helping you run the firm, and I’ll get back to you.”

As I drove up the curved driveway, I silently prayed the roaring engine would be a turn-off to my potential employee.

For three days, I contemplated taking the job before a conversation with Essen persuaded me to attend the interview.

Honestly, learning they were going to pay to meet me was enough to solidify my decision.

The sun beamed down on me as I removed my helmet and brushed my hand over my fresh taper. I wasn’t impressed by the massive estate, but the antique cars preceding the house had me stuck for a minute.

Before I could reach the porch, the front door opened. A round woman dressed in all black, except for a floral apron, smiled from the doorway.

“Mr. Harden?” She recited my name with a heavy country accent.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m here to see Ms. Rose.”

She snickered. “You’re here to see Mrs . Rose. Follow me.”

As soon as I entered the house, the comforting aroma of fresh coffee met me in the foyer. A dual staircase filled my sight, along with a bunch of fixtures. There was so much going on that it was hard to appreciate the worth of the framed art and statues.

The lady in the apron spun around and asked, “Would you like something to eat? Drink? A refreshment?”

“No, thank you. I’d like to get down to business.”

As the words left my lips, a woman I could describe as a gazelle started down a long staircase.

“A man that doesn’t mince words. I like that better than the motorcycle.”

She looked me up and down once her heels were on solid ground. I extended my hand to offer a handshake, but she dismissed the gesture.

“Are you ready to start the interview?” I asked in a rush.

She smirked. “One second. We’re getting to it.”

Like a lioness stalking her prey, Mrs. Rose circled me, occasionally squeezing my biceps and shoulders in the process. When her hand journeyed to my earlobes, I stepped out of reach.

“Hold on. You’re doing too much.”

“Yes, she is.” The raspy voice that interrupted the uncomfortable interaction was like music to my ears. I rotated my vision from the inappropriate cougar and eyed the familiar face.

“Mom, if you’re going to make him your new boy toy, you can at least learn a little bit about him.”

“Clarke, shut up. Green doesn’t look good on you.”

“Every color looks good on me.” She sidestepped the older lady and extended her reach out to me. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Clarke Rose.”

Clarke is a pretty name.

“Ishmael Harden. We’ve met before.”

One of her brows rose to the high ceiling. “When? I meet a lot of people every day.”

“It’s not important.” Her mother shoved her back, causing Clarke to stumble.

“Am I supposed to protect her from everyone or just the public?” I asked when the thought landed.

Clarke’s slit-eyed gaze grew wide, but Mrs. Rose plastered on a smile.

“Follow me,” the head honcho declared.

Her heels clinked against the freshly waxed floor as she strutted down the hallway. She twisted her hips extra hard, seemingly trying to capture my attention, yet I peered over my shoulder at Clarke.

Unlike the first time we crossed paths, she was dressed down in a black one-piece made of spandex, and her hair was braided in two French braids.