Chapter 1
Church Kingsley
“Hey, Kasanya,” I spoke to the shop’s receptionist after placing the case of product down on the front counter. Along with my business partner, Marigny Strong, we usually did product drop-offs together, but she had an appointment. I had come toLexington Clipsby myself. The shop belonged to Lexington (Lex) Sumners. He was related to my in-laws. Two of my sisters were married to cousins of his. We loosely considered each other family, and when Marigny and I started our hair care line, he was one of our first supporters. He always purchased the beard oil, the moisturizing hair serum, and the pre-shave oil.
Kasanya gave me a bright smile. “Hey. I’m so glad to see you. We’re running low on the beard oil, and both the barbers and the clients have been acting out about it.”
I chuckled. “Tell Lex that he needs to order more than one case at a time.”
“Okay, I know y’all up there talking shit about me!” Lex called from his chair in the back of the shop. “I read lips, you know.”
“I’ll be right back,” I told Kasanya.
“I’ll have your check ready for you.”
I nodded and headed toward the back of the shop to holler at Lex. It was a Friday morning at one of the few black-focused shops in our area, and the kids were headed back to school on Monday. The place was packed. Barbers called out greetings to me, while some of the clients said words that I chose not to really hear.
When I made it to Lex’s chair, I locked eyes with the man sitting there. I didn’t recognize him, which was odd. The Jackson Falls/Chinook Woods area was small. It was rare that I ran into somebody black that I’d never seen before. I figured he was a tourist. An eye-banging tourist. Dude was eye-banging me so hard that I was forced to look away.
“I told Kasanya that you probably need to order more than one case of beard oil at a time,” I said to Lex.
He nodded slowly, while continuing to edge up his client. “Yeah. The shit goes fast.” Our eyes met, and I could see the appreciation for what I’d done with my beard oil. That meant a lot because Lex was a Sumners. His family had been the standard in black hair care until they sold their line to a big corporation in the early 2000s. “Yeah,” he repeated, deep in thought. “Put me down for three cases of beard oil, two cases of serum, and two cases of pre-shave.”
Dude in the chair was still watching me so intently that he threw off my concentration momentarily. Just as I was about to pick up my end of the conversation, a shapely woman with racially ambiguous but beautiful features stepped in front of me, effectively blocking dude’s view.
“We’re eatin’ after this, right?” she asked. She leaned closer to him, pretended to whisper, but she made sure that both Lex and I heard her next words. “You can’t have me up fuckin’ early in the mornin’ and not even give me breakfast.”
“Cut the shit, Kylena,” he told her. “You could’ve had breakfast. Nobody told you to hop ya ass in my truck. I told you I was headed to the barbershop.”
She stomped her foot dramatically. “Why’re you so damn mean?”
I’d had enough. It was too early in the morning for their reality television antics. “I’ll put that order in for you, Lex. See you next time.”
I stopped back by the front counter, picked up my check, and headed back to my truck. I had barely pulled out of the parking lot when my phone rang. I checked the screen. The name attached to the caller was at one time saved in my phone as “Babes.” Now, his government name appeared: Oluwarotimi Eze. “I feel like you stay reaching out to me now more than you ever did when we were together,” I said instead of giving him a standard greeting.
He huffed in my ear. I didn’t care about his annoyance. I had my own. I wanted him to stop calling me. I wanted him to disappear, but no. He couldn’t even get that right. “When are you coming to get the last of your things, Church? I’ve been patient, but having to look at your belongings is starting to get under my skin. I feel like you’re dragging this out, like you don’t want to truly move on.”
I scoffed before I could catch myself. Was he even serious? I was the one who broke up with him. I ended things. I walked away. Granted, I didn’t do it as soon as I should’ve. I stayed too long. I took too much off of him. But once I was gone, I was gone. “Uh, whatever I left in that apartment of misery and doom can be tossed into the garbage. Anything that meant something to me came with me.”
“Apartment of misery and doom? Now it’s an apartment of misery and doom? You weren’t saying that when?—”
I ended the call. I left him, so I didn’t have to listen to his bitch-ass theories or ramblings. There was no way I was entertaining his musings as a single woman. Fuck that!
I was originally from Chicago.I relocated to Jackson Falls a few years earlier, when both my mother and one of my older sisters married local men. I liked Jackson Falls. It was picturesque, quaint, peaceful, and relaxed. One thing it wasn’t, though, was popping with exciting things for young adults to do. One really did have to make their own fun.
Friday nights in the fall were for high school football. They called it “Friday Night Lights.” It wasn’t technically fall, since it was actually August. It didn’t matter. The stands in the high school’s stadium were packed. And I cheered with the rest of the crowd when the Jackson Woods Jaguars took the win in their first game of the season.
“So, what now?” Jenna Dupree asked, adjusting the hem of her short shorts.
Four of us had come to the game together, Marigny (who we called Mari), Jenna, and Rachel. Jenna and Rachel were friends of Mari’s. I knew them, and we hung out from time to time, but it was only through Mari. I always got the feeling that Jenna didn’t really like me, so I kind of kept my distance.
“Waterfalls?” Mari suggested. Waterfalls was a local bar that had line dancing on Friday nights.
“I’m headed out,” Rachel announced. “I have so much paperwork to get through this weekend.”
“I wouldn’t let my boss work me on the weekend like that, Rach,” Jenna said. “When are you supposed to have time for you?”
Rachel gave a forced smile. “I guess when I’m independently wealthy.”