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Armani-dress-pants outside-café shit fucked up. I’ma Brooklyn-hoodie-and-Timbs niggah all day.
    “So all that rah-rah you bringin’ ain’t even for you. Me and ol’ boy are cool, but he’s not my motherfuckin’ problem, so you handle that. Now, if you don’t do business with people you’ve never met face-to-face, you should’ve told me that on the phone. But I’m here now and all that other shit you poppin’ at the mouth is extra, so stop it. Understand?” Slipping the menu from her hands, he stroked her cheek. Running his right thumb across her MAC-covered lips, he repeated himself. “Understand?”
    Collyn didn’t know what turned her on the most, being put in her place or the boldness of his touch. But no matter what, she had to keep her composure. She moved his thumb and popped her lips as she spoke. “Don’t touch me if I didn’t give you permission to. Now…” She paused. “Do
you
understand?”
    Before Bless could respond, Collyn’s cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and saw it was one of her clients in California. “Hello?” she said. “Eve didn’t what? Didn’t show up?…Yes, I will take care of this, and I will send someone else today. My apologies.” She ended the call. “Look, I have to go,” she said to Bless. “I have some business to take care of.”
    “But you’re taking care of business now.”
    “No, I’m not. I don’t know what type of games you all are playing, but I tell you what: you and Mr. Smith”—she pursed her lips—“can keep your fuckin’ grip.” She tucked her clutch under her arm and stood up.
    “Sit yo’ ass down,” Bless said sternly, never raising his voice. Collyn looked at him, obviously taken aback. “I said”—he squinted as the waitress sat the coffee on the table and shot them a nervous smile—“sit down.”
    Reluctantly Collyn complied as the waitress walked swiftly away.
    Bless leaned in toward Collyn, his lips practically touching hers. “What’s really good with you, beautiful? Because this is far beyond us obviously wanting to fuck. I’ve got a lot of money and prestigious people tied into this who are flying in from all over, and if this doesn’t go off, they’re going to be pissed. Now, I don’t have the time nor the patience to pacify yo’ diva-ass fit. What I need is for you to keep your part of the bargain. You can get with Kenyatta later, but right now you need to deal with me.”
    Collyn blinked. “Bless, is it? Let me explain something to you…
again,
” she said, looking directly into his face, her warm breath bouncing off his lips. “I’m not the one you need to play with. And ol’ boy should’ve told you that. I’m about my business, not fucking you.”
    He looked at her and they locked eyes. “It’s all good, beautiful. I wouldn’t charge you.” He seductively licked his bottom lip and slid a large envelope filled with two hundred thousand dollars across the table between them. “Now, lovely, what you gon’ do?”
    “About fucking you or this business arrangement?”
    “Both.”
    Collyn sat still for a few moments. She’d been in business a long time but had never had to deal with anything like this. Although she had a good feeling about Bless, at this moment she wasn’t sure if it was her aching pussy or her mind assuring her that he was straight.
    Collyn’s mother had passed her the torch of being an exclusive pimp handling only elite and wealthy dick—politicians, Hollywood stars, Fortune 500 CEOs, and music moguls, men with more to lose than their sorry-ass wives. And in a situation like this her mother would’ve told her to use her intuition and think about her reputation. To be stern, but be a lady and maintain her professionalism. And to know that if she ever canceled an event, then it better be for the right reasons. Otherwise her reputation would be at stake, and in this business reputation was everything.
    Collyn leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “Don’t