Bitch Reloaded
attempt to score brownie points than him actually caring about what deal I struck with Atomic Records. "Thank you, I'll definitely keep that in mind before I sign on the dotted line."
    "That's all I ask. Well, I won't keep you." Mike headed toward the door and I honestly didn't want him to leave.
    "Wait, you never told me why?"
    "Why, what?"
    "Because of me, you said you would no longer help Nico. Why?"
    "I'll have to answer that over dinner."
    Nathan was right there waiting by the door when Mike opened it. He was more than happy to show him out. I guzzled down the glass of cognac that had been waiting for me since Mike's arrival. The slight burning sensation that hit my chest as the liquor went down my throat gave me a burst of energy. I tossed my head back and sauntered out the den ready for part two with Jamal.
    When I entered the living room, Jamal was sitting on the elongated couch with a bottle of wine in his hand.
    "Is that for me?"
    Jamal initially gave me a look as if he didn't know what I was talking about, until I motioned my eyes to the bottle. "Yes, it's for us. I thought we could drink it over dinner. I hope you like red wine."
    "I'm more of a champagne or dark liquor kinda girl, but I'm up for trying something new. I'll pour us a glass." Jamal handed me the bottle and I went into the kitchen where Anna was preparing dinner.
    "Anna, my guest has arrived. So whenever you're ready you can serve dinner."
    "Yes, Mrs. Mills." As I poured the wine I still couldn't get Mike off my mind. His personality was a combination of Nico and Supreme. Maybe that's what I found so appealing. Nevertheless, Mike was trouble and someone I needed to stay far away from, especially since I couldn't deny my attraction to him.
    When I went back into the living room, Jamal was looking through me and Supreme's wedding album. I almost dropped the wine glasses due to shock. I hadn't been in the living room since I was shot and had forgotten all about those pictures. Seeing Jamal sitting there with the book in his hands brought all these emotions to the surface.
    "I didn't mean to intrude," Jamal said as he noticed I was standing before him frozen.
    "No, it's fine. I just haven't seen that book in so long."
    "You were a beautiful bride."
    "Thank you. That was the happiest day of my life. Now it's just a memory that causes me pain."
    "I'm so sorry, but I know that doesn't help. I can't begin to say that I feel your pain."
    "Yeah, I wouldn't wish losing the love of your life on anyone. It's kinda bizarre. Who would've ever thought that Precious Cummings from the Brooklyn projects would be talking about losing the love of her life? Not only that, but the love being the superstar rapper, Supreme. One better, is that I'm talking about it with you, my childhood neighbor and the man I lost my virginity to."
    "It is a bit awkward. You never know what direction life will lead you in. But it's not surprising to me that you ended up marrying a man like Supreme. Every man that laid eyes on you fell in love, including me."
    "Jamal, we were kids. What you felt for me was puppy love, nothing more."
    "It didn't feel that way then. I was crushed when you stopped coming to see me."
    "You knew it was only temporary. I was very honest with you," I said with a teasing smile.
    "I know. You wanted to practice how to better your sex skills, so you could blow the mind of some big time hustler."
    "Hearing you say that now sounds crazy."
    "Those were your words, not mine."
    "I know. So much has changed since then."
    "After you left the projects, I never saw you again. I would overhear conversations and people would say you were the wife of the infamous Nico Carter. That he treated you like a queen. You became a legend in Brooklyn. After your mother died, I went to her funeral and I hoped to see you there. I saw your mother a few times before her death, and she had changed her life around. No one could believe how beautiful she looked, just like her daughter," Jamal said

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