When a 22 year old wedding planner gets booked to plan a wedding for NBA star Ja Morant and his millionaire fiancée, she finds herself being the only thing from keeping them from saying, "I do." With family secrets and affairs, the woman has to try...
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"You're late," I tell Ja, as he stands in the front of my building. He's wearing some sweat pants and a grizzlies shirt. His tattoos cover his body, and I can't help but to admire how his veins pop out naturally without having to flex.
"This place is huge," he says. His head is pulled back into a ponytail, which makes his whole face available to look at. This man is handsome. And also engaged. "You did all this yourself?"
"With help from God and my best friend," I reply, letting him and myself in. "Follow me."
"Wow," is all he says as he looks at all the flowers and tables being set up for the next venue. "You have the weddings here?"
"Sometimes. When families can't afford them, I let them have it free here. Other times, I just use it to help the brides see our ideas come to life," I explain, letting him admire all of the details. I know I do.
"You had a vision and you worked your ass off," he states. "That's dope as hell."
"Thank you," I say, opening my office door. He walks in and inhales deeply. "It's some candle my partner got from bath and body works. It stops everyone in their tracks."
"Nah, that shit smell good as a bitch."
"I know right," I laugh, and take a seat in my chair. "Sit please. Can I offer you anything to drink? To snack on?"
"No," he says, taking a seat. "There's a lot of books in here."
"I know. Sometimes I read romance novels to spark my creativity."
"That's cute," he replies, looking around the room some more. "Who's that?"
"My mother," I pick up the picture frame and hand it to him. "Y'all look alike."
"Her genes are strong," I chuckle, as he looks up at me. Our eyes meet again like it did that night. I break eye contact. "Okay let's get to business."
"Talk to me," he says, rubbing his hands together. He licks his bottom lip a couple times and tries to make eye contact but I avoid it.
"So what was your ideas for the bachelor party? Anything? I know you have three months but the wedding date can come so fast you won't even see it. I get stuff done early so if any changes are needed to be made, they can be with no problem."
"I really ain't give much thought about it. Whole idea of marriage is dumb to me."
"Then why are you getting married, if you don't mind me asking."
"I don't mind at all," he replies, sitting up in his chair. "But the truth is, I don't know."
"Why would you propose if you don't wanna get married," I question, trying my hardest not to look at this man like he's an idiot.
"I don't know," he shrugs. I shake the whole conversation off. That poor girl. Men are dumb.
"What do you like to drink?"
"Cosomigossssss," he says. Of course he knows that but you don't know why you wanna make a life long commitment to somebody? Don't you have a kid? How you think marrying a woman like Naomi is gonna affect her? Would you like a man to treat her the way you're treating Naomi? That's what I want to ask, but that's not my business.
Like my mama always told me, mind the business that pays me.
"And where do you want it?"
"How about here?"
"Here? You want to have your bachelor party here," I question, raising an eyebrow.
"We can switch it up and I'll still pay you for it."
"Are you sure? We can get a club or even-"
"I'm sure," he says. "It's gonna be my last day to be free before the bullshit comes. I don't even want a party. I just wanna get away, have a break instead of dealing with the press who on my ass about this fucking relationship or that fucking woman Cheryl who got her head far up her ass bro. And don't let me start on Roger Graves. Boy, if I could shoot- I'm sorry. You don't know what's going on so I'm sure this is all confusing."
"One question," I finally say. "Do you love her?"
"I only love my blood and basketball. Ain't nothing else got my heart."
"Then why marry her? Why put her through all this if your heart ain't in it?"
"That ain't my business to share, mama," is all he says before his phone goes off. He answers it with a deep sigh. "What do you want?"
I simply just pull up my ideas for the tuxedo style and try to wrap my head around the fact that this man just told me he doesn't wanna marry this woman. I mean, this shit genuinely makes no sense. What could make you marry someone you can't even stand to be around?
"Then why the fuck can't Naomi ask me her damn self? I'm marrying her, not your old ass Cheryl- I don't give not one fuck about that! I'm minding my business that's what I'm doing. You should try that some time. We ain't married yet so I do what I want, that was the agreement. No I don't care about that fucking- get the fuck off my phone with all that bullshit!"
He hangs up and slams his phone on the table.
He stares at me, and I can see that there's nothing but anger in his spirit. I stare back, watching as he shifts in his seat. His eyes go to my lips and I quickly break the contact. This is not happening. This is a grown ass, engaged man. I'm planning his wedding. It doesn't matter how good he looks or how he smells.
He stands up and and leans over my desk.
"Can I kiss you," he asks me and I shake my head no.
"T-this is business. That would be extremely inappropriate-"
"There's a lot more inappropriate things I could do to you on this desk other than kiss you, baby girl."
"We shouldn't, Ja you're getting married-"
"Can you forget about that shit for one second? I'm reminded of that shit everyday. Just let me have this one moment of freedom. Please."
I look up at him and nod. He grabs my neck and attaches our lips together. Once they touch, my heart explodes with a million thoughts at once. It feels so wrong but yet, the feeling of his hand around my throat feels so right. He lips his tongue in my mouth, and my papers go flying off my desk and he pulls me closer.
I quickly run to pick them off the ground. No man is worth the headache of reorganizing weddings, trust me. As I'm bend over, picking up each paper in my hand, Ja's hand touches the hem of my skirt. I look back at him, as he pulls my lower body closer to him. I let out a small groan and he begins to press my butt against his length. It's huge.
"Ja, we can't."
"We can," he replies, dry humping me. "I know you feel how much he wants you. How much I want you. I know you want me baby. Just give in."
"I can't. If anyone found out-"
"That's up to how loud you scream, mama," he says, as he begins to rub my beat from under my skirt. "You want me, I can feel how much. Do you always have to be a good girl? Live a little bit, mama. Let a real nigga do you right."
"If I say yes," I say, pushing him away. "This is a one time thing. Right?"
"Unless you come begging me for more."
I stare up at him, with my lip liner and gloss covering his mouth. The lust in his eyes is undeniable. But I need to say no to this. I need to say no to this. Why can't I say no to this.
"What's it gonna be mamas," he says, gripping my butt. "Is it yes or no?"
