Page 14 of This Is Law 2

Chapter Six

SORAYA ‘YAYA’ CRAWFORD

“Ummm, what about next week Thursday then? It has to be something around noon. I won’t get into the office until eleven because my sons have their award ceremony at school.

What is my calendar looking like for noon?

” I asked, in my office, standing out of my seat, with my phone on speaker, and I was looking out of the window.

I was on the phone with my executive assistant, Michelle, and we were trying to squeeze in a new client meeting for a new athlete that was interested in my firm representing him.

“Well, at twelve, remember you have that branding call. I’m going to say that that should be about an hour.

I know right after the call, you’re going to want to take lunch.

Right after lunch, remember you have that crisis management debrief with Autumn, and her team.

We have to help her get back some of those deals that she lost out on when she went on her rampage on social media,” Michelle reminded me, and I groaned, hearing all the things that I had on my plate for next week.

As she was talking, telling me these things, there was a knock on my door.

“That’s Milan knocking on your door. You know she never stops at the front desk. She walked right back,” Michelle said, talking about my best friend.

I was just getting ready to question who was knocking on my damn door, but Michelle went ahead and quickly answered that for me.

“Okay. I don’t want to push the debrief back to Friday because I know that my schedule is busy that day as well.

Okay, so we’ll keep the meeting for the same time, and just schedule the new client meeting for immediately after.

I’ll just take a late lunch that day,” I let Michelle know, as I used my free hand to turn the knob, and I was face to face with Milan, who was standing on the other side of the door.

She was standing there, holding two plastic bags in her hands, and I could smell the food that she’d picked up.

I looked at her for a second, and naturally, I was just going to stare for a second, and wrap my call up with Michelle, but then I got wind of the fact that she was still walking around with those big, oversized Cartier sunglasses on her face, when she could have taken them off the second she got into the building.

That immediately raised a red flag. I instantly cradled the phone between my ear and shoulder, and went to reach for her glasses, but she quickly stepped back, not letting me see.

“Okay, that can work. Let me work on it, and I’ll call you right back,” Michelle said, and I didn’t even respond. I just hung up. I was more concerned with my friend, wanting to know why she was still walking around with these sunglasses on, when she’d made it inside the building already.

“Take the sunglasses off, Milan,” I demanded, sounding like I was talking to one of my kids by the authority that was in my voice.

“Girl, no. I been up for like 72 hours, so I have large bags up under my eyes. What’s up? I was in the neighborhood, so I decided to pop up on you with lunch, so I hope your ass is hungry because I spent a bag getting this,” Milan responded, quickly trying to change the subject.

I was going to allow her to believe that this conversation was over, and that she’d won, but the second her hands were busy, and she couldn’t knock my hands out of the way from reaching for her sunglasses, I was going to snatch them off, so that I could see what she was hiding.

“Where this food came from?” I asked her, keeping things normal.

“That rooftop restaurant that’s down the street.

The one we ate at a few times. I got you the lobster & burrata salad, with the truffle vinaigrette because I remember you saying how good it was.

I went down the street to that spot after that sells that Dubai chocolate, so after we eat our food, we going to try that dessert out next,” she voiced, just telling on herself.

Something was going on with her ass. For her to not only pick up lunch, but to pick up dessert as well, I knew that she was stress eating.

When Milan went through something, and she would be stressed out, she liked to eat bullshit.

The second I sat my ass down, I was going to go all in, so that I could see what was going on with my best friend.

In my office, I had my own private restroom, so I walked over to the restroom, and once inside, I washed my hands. Milan came in soon after me, so that she could do the same. I finished up and walked out.

While she was still handling her business in there, I went back into the office, going for my sitting area and I sat down on the couch.

There was a coffee table that was right in front of me, that held the food, and I immediately started opening the bag, so that I could pull our food out.

As I was doing that, Milan was walking back inside, and I looked up at her.

She was cute this afternoon, which I wasn’t surprised about because anytime that she would step out of the house, she was always dressed to kill.

I liked the look that she was serving today.

Definitely something that I would have worn outside of the office.

She was in a white long sleeve button down, but the button down was under a black cropped vest, and the vest was hugging at her waist, showing off how small it was.

She wore denim shorts, that had a tight fit to them, so you could see her firm thighs, and the juicy booty that she was working with.

There was a brown Hermès cross body bag around her waist to match the brown Givenchy shark boots on her feet.

Different Cartier and Van Cleef bracelets could be seen on her wrist. I liked the messy bun look that she had in her hair too.

“You look cute,” I complimented her, and she smiled, while flopping down on the couch, sitting right next to me.

“Thank you, girl. You do too. Where jail bird at?” she questioned, talking about Creed, and as bad as I didn’t want to laugh, I did, but I reached over, and I slapped her on her arm.

“Stop talking about my son before I get crazy,” I joked, and she chuckled.

By this point, everyone that was close to me knew what had gone down with Creed’s ass.

When my sister made it back from Dubai, she didn’t get back until almost two in the morning, and her ass came to my front door, knocking, wanting to check on Creed, and see how he was holding up.

I could have killed her ass for doing that, waking all of us out of our sleep, but I knew the kind of aunt that she was, and she loved my children probably just as much as I loved them.

Milan lazily slumped her body into the couch, tossing her head back, and she folded her arms. I was getting ready to open my container of food, so that I could start eating, but I saw that now was a perfect opportunity to see what she was hiding behind those shades.

I quickly reached over, and I snatched them off, and when I did, I saw that this bitch was walking around with a black eye.

It was black, and purplish. Not only that, but you could see the red bleeding through the white of her eye.

Seeing that, I immediately shot up from the couch, and I stood in front of her, shocked by this.

There was a piece of me that felt like she was hiding a black eye from me, but damn, I wanted to be wrong.

“Milan, what the fuck! Girl, who did this shit to you?” I screamed, my eyes on her right eye the entire time, just getting angrier the longer that I stared at it.

“Yaya, please get out of my face with all that damn yelling. I’m fighting a hangover, and my head is killing me,” she responded, leaning over, so that she could pick up her sunglasses that had fallen to the floor.

The second she tried to touch them, I was quick with picking them up, and I held them in my hands, so that she wouldn’t have any kind of access to them.

“Who blacked your eye?” I wasn’t going to let it go.

“Zoe. I blacked his shit too. I did worse, Soraya. You know I’m not the kind of bitch to have a nigga putting his hands on me, while I don’t defend myself.

The second he punched me, I picked up a glass flower vase that I had in my bedroom, and I cracked his ass in the head with it.

I had to take him to the hospital to get stitches,” she voiced, and I rolled my eyes at her revelation, and then sat back down on the couch.

I threw the sunglasses at her, trying to break them in the process, but she was able to reach her hand out, and catch them. Instead of putting the glasses back on like I thought she would, she just tossed them on the table that was in front of us.

Zoe was this Haitian dude that she had been dealing with for a few years.

Zoe was known in Miami because he owned multiple nightclubs here.

He had a few clubs in the little Haiti area, north Miami, and even a few in Fort Lauderdale.

He had money, and I’m sure that’s one of the reasons why Milan was still entertaining his ass.

He was the one that funded the entire trip to St. Maarten a few months ago.

Out of all the niggas that Milan dealt with, Zoe was the one that she would always go back to, and I hated it because the two of them were toxic as hell.

“What the hell were ya’ll fighting about this time?” I wanted to know. It’s like I didn’t want to know, but that very small piece of me did.