Page 5 of Disrespectfully, Relic
“Shut the hell up.” Relic’s tone was as deadpan as the stare he gave his phone like Pierre could see him.
He was used to the family’s whispers and assumptions about his relationship with Savvy, especially since they’d started off rocky after she wrongfully accused him of drugging and raping her at a party. Both of her children carrying his blue eyes only stirred the jesting rumors.
Things with him and his kinfolk had been straight since they’d gotten that bullshit situation squared away, so Relic doubted Shabu harbored ill feelings about his bond with Savvy. His brother wouldn’t speak on it if he did, for the sake of keeping their brotherhood intact. They’d fallen out behind a bitch before.
“I can see it now. Another Kelis situation.” Pierre poked at Relic about Shabu’s ex-girl. “Shabu is gon’ really kill yo ass behind Whoop. He let you slide with his last bitch, and now you’re figure skating with his wife.”
“He ain’t let shit slide because I don’t need a fucking pass to do what I want. That’s the difference between me and y’all.”
“What? That you ain’t afraid to step on toes and fuck everyone over when it benefits you?”
“Exactly that. Y’all talk, and I do,” Relic stated, picking up the empty plastic bags to carry to the trash bin and dispose of. “Y’all wish and think about what you should’ve done, while I do it and dare a muthafucka to check me about it.”
Pierre tsked like his mother did whenever fed up with his shit. “One day, a nigga gon’ fuck you up,” he told Relic who cracked a smile.
“They’d have to catch me lacking first, and we know that won’t ever happen.”
“You must’ve forgotten, you have an Achilles heel now. Yo life ain’t the same as it used to be, folks.”
That reminder sent Relic’s gaze to his son because he’d all but kidnapped Jahleel after finding out about him. There was no telling the lengths he’d truly resort to for the kid.
“Why you looking at me like that? What’s a chili heel?” Jahleel asked, butchering the term.
“Nothing. P, I hope you’re ready to get back to fucking work. I’m giving you a heads up, I’m signing more artists to the label, so you better earn your keep.”
“Adding more artists for what?”
“Fuck you mean, for what? Because it’s my shit!” he snapped, glowering at his phone when Pierre huffed a loud breath. “More artists mean more visibility, and more money. I’m thinking two females, so they can appeal to the ladies. I don’t want a huge label, but I want a solid team of hit makers. Is that cool with you, or do I need your approval to run my goddamn business?”
Relic hoped his folks caught the sarcasm in his tone because he was moving forward with his plan regardless. When he’d initially started the label, it was meant to support Pierre while laundering his dirty money. He added Tekken to the roster after finding out the youngin’ was dabbling in the streets behind his aunt’s back. Once both artists took off faster than Relic anticipated, he realized the recording industry was a cash cow if he played his cards right. He had no intentions of leaving money on the table.
“I mean, it’s your label and your bread, so I can’t tell you what to do. I want to vet whoever you’re looking at, though,” Pierre negotiated, and Relic conceded without pause.
“Heard. I got this chick I’m scoping out tomorrow tonight, so if she’s worth the time, I’ll set up a meeting for y’all to check her out.”
“Shit, we’re straight then.”
“As if you had a damn choice. I’ll get up with you once I set everything in place. Don’t fucking bother me again before then.”
Relic snatched up his phone and ended the call. When he turned around, Jahleel was dousing his waffles in syrup while staring at him with a rebuking lour he’d grown used to.
“What’d I do now, Jah?”
“Stop cursing all the time. You need Jesus. Want to come with me, Jas, and our granny to church?”
“The answer was, no, the other thousand times you asked, and it’s still that. I’m going to the office. Don’t fu—mess up my house or make too much noise.”
“Okay. See you in an hour!” Jahleel called to his departing back, used to his dad’s routine.
Relic lifted a hand in acknowledgment before heading to his den that he’d transitioned into an office. He shut his sliding barn doors, took a seat at his Mahogany wooden desk, and opened his laptop before removing a thick stack of files from his drawer. After flipping one open, he picked up the hourglass set beside his brass desk lamp to flip over. His eyes chased the sand grains running from one bulb, through the neck, and to its bottom before he looked away. His stomach cramped as he began his daily tasks.
Like it was his religion, Relic started the first hour of his mornings with the same monotonous but intricate routine. He fine-tuned issues with his businesses that were set to open within weeks, recalculated his washed revenue that Savvy allocated, and most importantly, readjusted his contingency plan for the off chance that his lifestyle caught up to him. He was betting on his businesses being either his get out of jail free card, or his family’s lifeline, when the walls around him crumbled, and the floors bottomed out from the weight of his felonious deeds. Relic anticipated the boulder dangling over his head to drop sooner rather than later.
“I still cannot believeyou’re about to run one of the most talked about salons in the city, Kennedy! I would be telling everyone if I were you, especially the bitches who worked there when Mya ran it. You know, they didn’t fuck with you like that, but you were cool as hell to me. Mya is gon’ shit her pants when she finds out, wherever the hell that hoe moved to. The grand opening is all over social media, so she won’t miss it. It’s in two weeks, right?”
Kennedy gave a tight-lipped smile while staring across the restaurant table at her old coworker, who was stuffing her mouth with pasta but still found time to run her dick suckers nonstop. When Kennedy saw Ronnie’s name on the list of applicants, she decided to take a chance on her so that she’d have at least one familiar face in the salon. She’d forgotten how much the girl could talk.
“Yes, it’s in two weeks. I—”
