Headline

two

courtney
eight month earlier

"Ion' know. . I don't trust it."

      The sizzle out of the round, purple casserole pot on top of the electric stove intensified as the flour battered chicken wing was placed in the hot grease. The right suede, truffle brown hand that was manicured with a pointy blue nails was attached to the thirty-year-old woman gracing a full figure; her thickness well portioned. She wore her natural, thick, and brown hair in a blown out state, secured in a ponytail; the puffy tresses bra-length. She was relaxed, donning a tank top and short cotton shorts.

      Sitting on the counter beside the kitchen's entrance, Courtney eyed her sister a few feet over at the stove. The mid-thigh jumpsuit fitted to her build, her long and chocolate legs swinging lightly with her bare feet out. Just as like her long hair was out, awaiting a hair appointment. "Why you don't trust it, Carter?" she asked.

      After enough wings were in the grease, Carter folded the large ziplock bag containing the rest of the uncooked chicken before going over to the sink and turning the left silver handle inward to release the hot water. "Cause; he hit you after weeks after telling him you're pregnant and inviting you to his damn penthouse..." she shook her head, rub the soap on hands and put them under the water. "Ion' trust it like I said. He prolly needed time to plan."

      "Plan what exactly?"

      "The perfect murder..." Carter assumed her suspicion as she shut the water off and reached for a paper towel; ripping off a few and start drying her hands as Courtney laughed loudly. "You really over there laughing. Don't under-estimate that nigga. He filthy rich wit they smarts and he street smart. Just don't stand on no balcony; might claim you slipped. Or jumped."

      "You're overthinking," Courtney shook her head as her laugh ceased. "You watch too much of love crime docs.

      "Love crime documentaries that are true; by the way." Carter pointed. "You was hitting him up all Thanksgiving; all depressed in the room and shit and his mark ass waited damn near two weeks later. He gave you a NDA, Courtney."

      "And I didn't sign it."

      "That makes it better?" Carter's brow lifted questionable. "Listen, I have kids and I get the whole BD-BM situation; but your situation a little different. He's a married man and the world knows you two were having a "affair"."

      "That his wife knew about. She approached me!"

      "You think she's really gonna admit that? Court, don't be dumb. They one of the most loved, influential Black couple in all of America. You'll be the one they push on the sword before they ever do it. No matter how much he sweet talk and tell you he love you; men are men. And the married ones will never let they wife look stupid; especially one at they status."

      Court hopped off the counter, her flip flop sandals sound on the tile floor as she approached her sister. Although she was younger than Carter, her five foot ten height towered over her sister's five foot five. She placed her hand on her shoulder and said, "I'll be fine. Did I promise not to catch feelings and did; yes. I fell in love accidentally. Im not gonna be thrown off some balcony. I'm strictly going to talk, say my peace, and walk away."

      "I believe allat; but the walk away part." Carter clocked, knowing her sister well. "That fine, old nigga gonna say som' or gift you something to get you to smile and sign that NDA. Then break your heart. But go off."

      "You forget I gave back the Benz, along with the jewelry and condo? That expensive shit don't move me."

      "I been meaning to ask: why—Why in the hell would you give the jewelry back? Have I taught you nothin?"