Page 9

“Tara, this is exactly what you requested. Now, if you would like to change the fabric of the curtains, that’s fine, but there will be an upgrade fee, plus the five percent fee required for modifying the contract after it has been signed and notarized.”

“Bayleigh, sweetheart, I have sent several clients your way. I would think if you’re still interested in receiving new clients as well as repeat business from me and my friends, that you would work hard to accommodate my requests,” Tara Lawrence replies, running her fingers back and forth over her freshwater pearls.

“Tara, that would be fine if I hadn’t done it already.

We altered the contract on your kitchen, your living room, and your husband’s office.

If I continue doing that, then I would need to do that for everyone, not to mention that it’s not like you cannot afford that fee, considering the ten percent discount off my services that I’ve already provided,” I point out.

Tara stands and grabs her purse. “I must say, Bayleigh, that I’m disappointed that you’re not willing to work with me. I’ll have to reconsider the service provider that I use for future home interior design needs.”

Standing behind my desk, I paste a false smile on my face and reply. “You do that. I wouldn’t want you to be displeased with the result. So, may I consider this your formal notice that you’re rescinding the contract, Tara?”

She looks shocked that I would suggest such a thing.

“Of course not. I would never cancel services in the middle of a project. That’s highly unprofessional, and I would hope that you would not do such a thing either, Bayleigh.”

“I just want to make sure that we’re on the same page and that we can work together well, moving forward on this project.”

“We will,” she retorts, turning on her heel and marching stiffly out of my office.

When she closes the door, I roll my eyes. My door pops open before I have a chance to sit down in my seat again.

“What the hell did that heffa want now?” Georgette, my receptionist, asks with her hands on her thick, curvy hips.

“What else? Another discount on the services. She wants to change the fabric of the curtains without paying the upgrade fee.”

“She knows better than that shit. Bayleigh, don’t do it.

You’ve given her too much slack already in appreciation for the clients that she sends your way.

But she’s taking advantage of it now. You haven’t had anyone come in here that she sent in months.

All these new customers, you pulled off your own hustle. ”

I smile at her feistiness. “Thank you, Mama Georgi, for the reminder. I told her pretty much the same thing as it relates to me not giving her any more discounts.”

“Is that why she walked out of here with her face all red and twisted?”

“Yes. You should have seen how she looked when I asked her if she was rescinding the contract.”

Georgette’s lips blow up as her cheeks blow out, trying to contain her laughter.

“Her ass knows that she can’t afford to piss off another interior design firm.”

Georgette can’t control her laughter any longer. It explodes from her in a fit of giggles, forcing a smile to my lips, as well.

“Then she wanted to question how professional that was and state that she would never do something like that, and she hoped that I wouldn’t either.”

Georgette’s giggles stop as her mouth and eyes open wide. “No, that bitch didn’t.”

“Yes, she did.”

It was known all over the city that Tara Lawrence was hard to work with.

She’d fired three interior design firms in the last year with incomplete projects.

That was all after she’d walked away from me at the beginning of last year because I refused to put another project on hold that I was already working on to do what she considered an “emergency project.”

The emergency project was to redesign the children’s playroom into a room for her new dog since her kids were grown and had moved out of the house.

“You should have told her to kick mud.”

“I wanted to, Georgi. But I’m not in the mood for shenanigans today. I just want to finish this project and then move on with my life.”

“You’re not accepting any more jobs from her, are you?”

“Hell no.”

I glance at my phone, which is ringing. “Let me get this call from Riley. She’s been calling me since Tara was in here.”

“Okay,” Georgette replies and sashays out of my office again.

I pick up the phone and answer it. “Hey, Riley. I’m sorry that I didn’t answer before. I was with a client. What’s up, boo?”

“I’m outside of your office. Can you come out here?”

My sister’s voice sounds funny.

“Why don’t you come inside? I don’t have anyone else. I can order some lu—”

“Please, Bayleigh.” Riley’s voice breaks off in the middle of a plea.

“Riley, are you okay? You’re scaring me.”

“Just please. Come out here. I’m in the back of the parking lot. I need you.”

“Okay, give me a minute to grab my things and let Georgi know that I’m stepping out.”

“Okay.” Riley sniffles.

I have the strangest feeling that I won’t be coming back to the office today. My little sister doesn’t ask for much. She and I are the youngest of four kids, with our two brothers being the oldest.

After I shut down my computer, I grab my keys, phone, and handbag. I stop by Georgette’s desk on my way out.

“Hey, Georgi. I’m stepping out of the office for the rest of the day. Sam and Tess are both in the field on projects that they can handle. Let them know that I’m away taking care of family business, and if an emergency should arise, to reach me on my personal phone.”

Georgette nods and asks, “Is there anything else that I can do, honey?”

My staff never calls my personal phone unless it’s an emergency. All work-related issues are directed to my work cell.

“No, sweetie. Just prayer.”

“Okay,” she replies, bobbing her head. “Call me if you do need anything. I hope everything is good with Riley.”

“It will be,” I reply.

I rush out of my office and around to the back parking lot. Riley’s been having marital issues with her husband, and they’ve been arguing a lot lately. She’s mentioned getting a divorce a time or two, but that’s nothing new for Riley and Kenny.

I spot my sister’s yellow Mustang at the rear of the parking lot next to mine. Checking the parking lot as I go, I quickly make my way in that direction.

I know that she saw me coming, but she doesn’t step out of the car or roll her windows down. I tap on her window with my keys before she finally slowly rolls the window down.

My breath catches in my throat when I see my sister.

“Did that fucker do this to you?” I shout, pointing my keys at her face.

Slowly, Riley nods.

“Fuck no!”

“Where are you going?” Riley asks as I rush back to the building.

“I’m about to fix your problem once and for all.”

“Bayleigh, come back. Bay, please,” Her shouts fall on deaf ears as I rush to my shop.

“Bayleigh, baby, everything okay?” Georgette asks as I storm past her and into my office.

I’m struggling to fight back the tears as I unlock my bottom desk drawer and remove my gun.

“Baby, what are you about to do?” Georgette asks, standing in my office doorway.

“Right some wrongs,” I answer, rushing past her again.

“Uh-uh, honey. This ain’t the way to do that.” Georgette grabs my arm.

I jerk away from her and say, “Georgi, I love you, but don’t get in my way.”

“Bayleigh. Bayleigh! Bayleigh, come back,” Georgette calls after me as I rush from the office once more and toward my matte black Audi R8.

Riley jumps out of her car and runs after me.

“Bayleigh, no!”

“No, that bitch wants to hit someone. Let him hit me!” I shout over the roaring of my engine.

“Bayleigh, please, you’ll only make it worse.”

“Worse? Have you seen yourself, Riley? Your face is fucked. Up!” I say, enunciating the last two words separately to emphasize my point.

“I don’t even know how you could see to drive yourself over here with that swollen right eye.

Your lip is swollen and hanging damn near to your chin, your cheek is enlarged and discolored, and—”

As Riley starts crying, I cut myself off. But damn. My sister looks like she’s morphing from Buddy Love to Professor Clump.

Riley is five-two, one-hundred-twenty pounds, if that, and soft-spoken. That bastard is six-one, two-hundred-fifteen pounds of muscle, and loud and aggressive as hell. I’ve always hated my sister’s husband, but as long as he didn’t physically harm her, I stayed in my lane.

I didn’t like the way that he spoke to her or gaslighted her, but she insisted that she was fine and she could handle him. My brothers, Quinton, and Chase, both had conversations with him before, but it seems like it didn’t do any good.

“Listen, I’m going to find him, and when I do, I’m about to pop one off in his ass.”

“Bayleigh, please don’t go over there. You’ll make things worse,” Riley pleads.

“What the fuck ever.” I pull my door closed and put the car in gear as she runs to her car.

I zoom past Georgette, who stands in the doorway of my shop, looking stunned as hell.

Riley pulls out of the parking lot behind me as I squeal onto the street, burning rubber.

I don’t make it to the red light at the corner before Georgette calls me.

I ignore her calls, but I do speak to her aloud in my car as if she can hear me. “Georgi, don’t you dare fucking call Z on me.”

I know that she’ll do it. But my man has his own business to handle. While I know that he wouldn’t mind if I asked him to, I’m not pulling him into my siblings’ affairs, not when I can handle them.

Kenny Montrose is about to answer for his crimes.