“Zay? Aw shit nigga long time no see!” Kai exclaimed, King stood to greet him.“Yeah! Damn when was the last time I saw you? High school?” he laughed.
“Sounds about right, look at chu now nigga! You a lawyer?”
King has always had a humble personality, “I guess.” He answered sitting back down now remembering where he is.
“But for real man, whatchu doing here?” King questioned grabbing his legal pad to take some notes. Ever since they were young Kai stayed in trouble at school, in church, at home. Kai shrugged, “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” His answer was vague and King asked him to elaborate but Kai got distracted.
“Muther-Fuckin, got damn! Who is that?” he asked in amazement staring at the same woman King was ten minutes ago. Both men watched her walk away from her desk and walk to the copy machine where she pulled waited patiently for her papers to come out.
“That’s Paris.” King answered admiring the way her long chocolate legs looked in the brown skirt she wore today. “Damn, fuck having you as an attorney where do I sign up for her?” Kai grinned undressing her with his eyes.
“Man I don’t even know. I been watching that since I got hired, she don’t have much clients but when she does you can practically smell the money dripping of em’.” King thought back to all the clients he’s seen come in for her most of them are white, rich and old. King never chases women, they always flock to him but she could be the only exception…
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::
(Sean)
He watched her approach him a scowl evident on her face.
“What’s wrong with you?” he questioned opening his arms. She hugged him, taking a deep breath. “I’m just tired and I have a long day ahead of me.” Paris answered looking at her watch.Sean looked at his sister, in admiration. He still can’t believe her come up, to say they had a hard childhood would be an understatement.He hasn’t done too badly for himself either, at 22 he produces music for a couple of people and DJs occasionally. But that’s nothing compared to Paris’s job, at 24 almost 25 she’s on the verge of being a judge. She deals with heavy cases and her clientele consists of old rich people.
“What do you gotta do?”
Paris shrugged, “Just work stuff. Speaking of work I should probably get back, how much did she ask you for?” Sean sighed before answering, “She wants eight hundred.”
The she they were referring to is their mother, 43 year old Jolie. She was never the ideal mother, you know the ones you see on television. Ever since Paris got her first paycheck working at the local laundry mat when she was 14 Jolie has been asking for money. Money to feed her addiction. And why do they give it to her you ask? Well, they’re not sure, it’s just something they’ve always done. Sean tried to cut her off once and two weeks later they police were calling Paris saying they’d found Jolie half alive in an alley. She owed her boyfriend some money, money she stole from him to feed her addiction.
“Here.” Paris pulled eight bills from her wallet tucking them in her brother’s hand. Sean noticed the sadness in her eyes and he knew it went beyond the whole money, she looked lost.
“Par, you know you can call me whenever. Even if it’s just to kick it for a while, I’m here.”
Paris nodded hugging him, “Thanks Sean I know.” They shared another hug and a smile before she walked back into the building.
“Hold the elevator.” A voice called. The voice was smooth and deep but not too deep. And her ears begged to hear it again. Paris push the button that held the doors open and came face to face to King. She would be lying if she said she’d never admired him but it was always from affair.But up close it was like staring at a model in a GQ spread, his skin resembled hers. A warm chocolate color, with amazing eyes to match.He stood clad in a nice pair of black dress pants, a simple white dress shirt covered his obviously ripped abs, and the sleeves rolled up showcasing his strong arms.
“You gonna let me in?” he asked amusedly.
“Oh right, um sorry.” She moved away from the door and into the corner staring intently at her chanel heels. King stared at her face, she’s even more beautiful up close he thought to himself. His eyes wandered to the red number going up, four more floors and they’d be back at their offices and she still hasn’t said a word.“So um how was your lunch?” King blurted.
Paris’s eyes snapped up, did he really just ask how my lunch was? When we’ve never shared two words before this?
“Let me introduce myself, I’m King. You are?”
She tried to control the dirty thoughts of him taking her in this elevator . “I’m Paris.”
“Paris…you ever been?” his words seemed to slip off his tongue, sexily.
Ever been what? Fucked in an elevator? Paris smirked to herself. “Sadly, nope never been. I’m just too busy. You?”
“Once, a couple years ago.” He answered smoothly, reminding her that it’s guys like this are the reason she has to take those stupid pills in the morning, and all the therapy sessions. It’s guys like this that make you ruin your favorite pair of Vicky secrets. It all started in the 7th grade, she was diagnosed with hyper sexuality disorder aka sexual addiction.
*Ding*
The elevator doors stopped on the floor before theirs, and a middle aged guy stepped on talking on this cellphone.Trying to keep her composure and panties dry, Paris focused on smoothing out her dress and fiddling with the chanel bracelet on her wrist. The elevator stopped, on their floor and before Paris could step out King grabbed her hand. “Um it was nice meeting you Paris.”
“Yeah you too King.” She smiled, he let her hand go and they went their separate ways.
::The Only Exception:: 1
Start from the beginning
