Rumors or Reality - Fan Fic Eminem x Minaj

That Be All?

Marshall POV

"You must be out of your damn mind," Denaun noted as I walked with him through the store. I gave him a shrug as I continued to look. There had to be something I could fucking buy here that would make it better.

"I'm serious, Em," Denaun said, catching my arm. "You fucked up and you think that buying her shit is going to fix it?"

"Look, it wasn't supposed to go like that," I said, defending myself. "It was all supposed to be a simple, easy shoot with a quick, bullshit interview that didn't say anything of any substance. Paul's the one that set the stupid thing up." I justified and turned. Jewelry. That would work, wouldn't it?

Walking out of the store I was in and down the street to the nearest jeweler, I heard Denaun muttering behind me. He was right, of course. Buying Nicki some bling wasn't going to make her any less pissed at me. But, if it stalled her anger long enough for me to get a fucking word in edgewise, then it would do its damn job.

When we stepped into the store, I saw all the lighted displays and mirrors and cringed. Glancing over my shoulder, I realized how this could look, so I jogged my head at the nearest staffer. She came up to me, looking over Denaun and me without any recognition.

"I need to have a private viewing of what you all have," I said. The woman frowned.

"Sir, we don't do that," she responded. "This store is open for any of the public to come in and look. Now, is there something in particular that you would like to see?" She asked.

I groaned and rolled my neck. There was no one inside right now, but I needed to have this place on lockdown, or the whole point to surprising Nicki with an in-person, crawling apology with icing to top it off would be lost. I looked at Denaun, who nodded and turned to the woman.

"Get your manager or owner right away," he asked. "I promise, we'll make it worth it."

The woman continued to frown and shook her head as she walked away. No doubt, she thought we were lunatics. If she didn't recognize us, our request had to sound a little off.

"Gentlemen," I heard an older male voice say.

I looked up to see the woman from before following a man who was probably in his two hundredth year, given the weathering of his body. Man must have mined the damn diamonds himself. Perhaps, with his face.

"I'm Ronald Fluer, the owner of this store," he introduced, putting out a hand. I took it with a nod.

"Marshall Mathers," I responded and the old dude actually startled. Huh, didn't know I'd captured the octogenarian market.

"Kathleen," he said, turning to the woman. "Please close and lock the doors and pull all the blinds. Mr. Mathers and his friend will be given a private showing."

Kathleen looked more confused than ever as she went about doing what Ron asked. When the front was secured, she got back to his side and he gestured to the back.

"Please pull out the pieces from the safe and ensure that the back door is secure," he asked. Kathleen's face was going to freeze like that if she didn't ease up on the puckered brows, I noted with a slight smile. When she left, Ron turned to us and gestured to the displays.

"Mr. Mathers," he said. "And, I'm sorry, sir. I did not get your name," he said to Denaun.

"Just call me Denaun," was the reply. Ron nodded and walked us over to the displays on the far side of the room. As my eyes glanced over them, nothing looked right.

"This is all the stuff that anybody off the street can buy," Denaun said, wording my thoughts. I nodded, looking back up to Ron.

"I need something one of a kind," I said. I heard Kathleen moving toward us from the back.

"Of course, sir," Ron said. Kathleen came up to him with a large, velvet box that had several drawers to it. He took it from her with a small smile and a look that clearly said she was to scram. When she did, he turned back to me and Denaun.

"Let's try these, sir," he suggested.

The first two drawers were full of earrings and bracelets. They sparkled under the lights in the ceiling and were pretty, as far as that shit goes. I was no expert, though, so all I saw when I looked at them was blandness. None of them struck me as something for Nicki.

Ron picked up on my lack of interest and pulled out the next two drawers, which were closer. In this set, there were mixed items. One in particular was a bracelet thing that wrapped around parts of the hand. It had a mix of clear and chocolate diamonds that made it interesting. It was a possibility – I could picture it flashing as Nicki held a mic.

"Set that one aside," I said. Ron did and then opened up the last two drawers, pulling them completely from the housing of the box.

In these two sets, there were four necklaces. Two of them were simple, but for the boulder-sized gems that were hanging as pendants from them. The third was dressier: it had a heart shaped design that was created by diamonds that almost looked like they were floating on fishing line. The fourth, however, was the winner.

That necklace was Nicki's. It didn't matter how much it cost, I had to get it for her. Even without the apology I knew I had to give her, this piece was made to be around her neck. It was the same clear and chocolate diamond mix as the bracelet thing, and it splayed out in a sunburst like pattern from the part that would rest on her collar bones.

"That one, and the bracelet," I said, no doubt in my mind. Denaun whistled and I looked over my shoulder at him. He rose his hands in surrender, but nodded to Ron, who was quietly celebrating his retirement in his head.

"Well, she's sure as fuck gonna know you're sorry," Denaun said wryly and I nodded.

"Trick will be getting close enough to her to have them dazzle her long enough for me to explain myself," I replied and Denaun chuckled.

"Maybe, you should wear a cup," he suggested. I frowned and he shrugged. "Couldn't hurt to go in protecting your junk, man. After that article, it's amazing she didn't make your damn ears bleed."

I groaned. I hadn't meant to spout off at that damn interviewer. I'd gone into it fully calm and collected. But then, the fucker had poked some buttons and I'd lost my temper and said some things that Nicki was less than pleased about. She had a right to be pissed, but in being pissed, she took her damn self away to handle some publicity gigs that she claimed her agent demanded of her. Recognizing the deep shit I'd stepped into, I'd demanded Denaun come out and help me. Only, instead of helping, he was taking the opportunity to act the comedy commentator. Fucker.

"Will that be all, sir?" Ron asked and I sighed.

"No," I replied. "Know any good florists?"