Page 6 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming

RANSON

R anson has been trying to reply to Lyric’s email for the past twenty minutes, and nothing is coming to mind.

All he can think about is how much he enjoyed being in her presence.

Her calm yet fierce energy, her poise, her confidence and her beauty.

Dear lord, her beauty. It was almost too much for him to take.

His mind wanders to her luminous brown skin, long, dark flowing hair, her catlike bourbon-colored eyes, heart-shaped lips and a body fit for a queen.

Her curvy waist, ample ass, shapely legs and beautiful round breasts were?—

DAMNIT ! Nigga, stop .

He’s supposed to be responding to a five-line email, and he’s back to fantasizing about her. He reads the email again.

“This might seem unorthodox, but I think we should take the bull by the horns and meet with Morris. We’ll tell him your plan to invest in Lee’s start up and remove any doubt that you’re sneaking behind your father’s back.

From what I know of Parker Hamilton, he loves money and power.

We’ll give him power over Lee and Shandola—or what appears to be power—while you run the show. Let me know your thoughts.”

It’s not a bad idea . I just hope it’s enough .

The Hamilton offspring who are no longer tethered to Parker suffered financially mainly because they sneaked around him to sever those ties.

That’s the thing that pissed their dad off the most. The audacity to think he wouldn’t find out offended him more than anything.

If Ranson actually sits down and explains his plan in a way that boosts his father’s massive ego, it may have a chance at working.

Ranson types out a response.

“It certainly couldn’t hurt to try. I’ll let Lee and Momma Dola know about the plan. They won’t be too happy, but I’ll assure them that I’ll be handling everything. Now we have to figure out how I can do that without my father interfering.”

Lyric immediately replies.

“You let me worry about that.”

Ranson hears Lyric’s voice as he reads her response again. He lets out a breath.

And just like that, he’s back to thinking about her.

He’s transported back to when he first saw her and the words of his maternal grandfather, Roosevelt Cobbs, played in his head.

When Ranson was a young boy, his granddaddy would take him out fishing. Ranson was ten when he told him the story of how he met his granny, Fran. It was like something out of a movie.

“It was July of 1959, and I was having a laugh with my friend, Melvin Timmons, down by the creek. It was summer, and we decided to go swimming. A girl I knew from school, Jemma Rhodes, joined us, and brought along with her cousin Francine, who was in town for the July Fourth celebration. She took my breath away. I looked at Mel and said, ‘I’m going to marry that girl.’ And I did,” he smiled.

“Best decision I ever made. You’ll know when you see her, Ranson.

The love of your life. You’ll know with every fiber of your being.

And when you do, don’t you dare let her get away. ”

Ranson immediately grabs his phone and calls his boy Patrick.

They’ve known each other for years. They met at a BMLC—Black Male Leadership Committee—meeting.

It’s a group where rich young Black men make connections with their peers in order to help them develop into future leaders.

Ranson was eighteen and a mentee, while Patrick was twenty-four and assigned as his mentor.

It didn’t take long before Ranson and his brothers began treating Patrick like their big brother.

They’ve been tight with him ever since, but he and Ranson are especially close.

“What’s up, bruh?” Patrick asks.

“I think I’ve met the woman I’m going to marry. You remember how Granddaddy Roosevelt told me about meeting Granny Fran? I think I met her, man.”

“Tell me about her.”

“Her name is Lyric Annalise Fuqua. She’s beautiful, intelligent, driven, kind and … I don’t know how to explain it, but there’s something special about her. I can’t stop thinking about her, and it’s making me think about my granddaddy’s words.”

“That’s deep. How did you meet?”

“She works at The Firm. She’s handling this thing with Lee, Momma Dola and?—”

“Whoa, hold up. Let me stop you right there. You can’t mix business with pleasure.

What happened to looking out for all the folks whose businesses you’ve helped?

I’m sorry, bruh, but you have to keep your eyes on the prize.

You know how shady Parker is. Getting involved with Lyric now is a no-go, my friend. ”

Ranson called Patrick for a reason. While he was excited to share the news of meeting Lyric, he also knew his friend would bring him back down to earth. These are the words he needed to hear. Now the question becomes, will he listen?

“You’re right. I just have to push Lyric out of my head and concentrate on how to tell my dad about Lee’s start up.”

“You’re going to tell him?”

“Yeah, the plan is to cut him off at the pass, so he won’t have to go digging behind my back. We make Parker believe he’s in control of Lee’s business, while I do all the heavy lifting behind the scenes.”

“Your father’s ego is large enough for that to work.”

“You think?”

“Yep.”

The two men laugh.

Ranson hears the chime from his computer informing him he has another email. He smiles, hoping it’s Lyric.

Welp, pushing her out of my mind didn’t last long .

It’s not Lyric. It’s Morris. Ranson reads the email, and a chill goes down his spine.

Good evening Ranson,

Your father knows about your deal with Shandola and Lee. He trusts that you’ll make an informed decision.

- Morris

Shit .

“I just got an email from Morris. My dad knows.”

“Shit.”

“Exactly.”