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I was home alone, making the most of my night off, cooking and vibing to some music. Nothing crazy, just trying to get through the week. After plating my food, I plopped down on the couch and started scrolling through Netflix for something to throw on in the background. I wasn’t even invested in watching; I just needed something to fill the silence.
Mid-scroll, my phone rang. Ugh, of course. Victoria. I sighed and picked up, ready to tell her off.
“I’m not supposed to be working, Victoria. You better not—"
“I need you to come in,” Victoria cut me off, her voice all business. “Your wifey will be here, too.”
Wifey. Say less.
I didn’t even finish my food. Just threw on some shoes, grabbed my bag, and headed out. I wasn’t about to miss a chance to see Beyoncé, even if it meant ditching my lazy night. I kept it casual with black leggings, a white long sleeve, and my white Air Forces. Hair pin-straight. Nothing fancy, but good enough.
I arrived at the office and went straight to Victoria’s. I didn’t bother knocking—what for? As soon as I opened the door, I saw them—Beyoncé and Victoria—laughing like they were having the time of their lives.
“You called?” I asked, my tone just a little sharp.
Victoria looked me up and down, smirking. “Why are you dressed like that?”
I rolled my eyes. “Because I was supposed to be at home, remember?”
Beyoncé, looking at me with a grin, added, “How sassy.”
“Tell me about it,” Victoria quipped, amused as ever.
I sat down, crossing my legs, feeling like I was about to be interrogated or something. Victoria slid some documents across the desk toward me, while Beyoncé stayed quiet, watching me carefully.
“I read that draft you corrected for Miss Knowles,” Victoria said, leaning back in her chair. “It’s amazing. I sent it to her.”
Beyoncé jumped in, “And I want you to write for me. Not like a book or anything, but all the details are in the contract.”
I raised an eyebrow, trying not to let my surprise show. “You’re serious? You want me to do this because of my talent and not—"
“And not what?” Beyoncé cut in, her voice cool but curious. “What else could there be?”
I waved it off. “Nothing. Never mind.”
Victoria pushed the papers toward me more firmly, and Beyoncé placed her hand over mine, her touch soft but commanding. “Hey, if you don’t want to do it, it’s fine. No hard feelings.”
I smirked. Like I’d miss a chance to be around Beyoncé. “I’ll consider it.”
