“Niecy said she’ll put out a statement admitting she was just being weird. Can I get you to draft that for me?”
“Yeah. I can do that. So, have you spoken to Myome and you plan to see it out or…?”
“All I need you to do is write the statement. I’ve got the rest of this shit on the backend, alright?”
“Yeah. I’ll get it to you as soon as I get the girls settled.”
“Thanks.” I disconnected the call then exhaled.
I tapped Myome’s contact then locked my phone before I could be bothered with actually texting her. I rolled up and took a long drag from my blunt instead.
We were halfway to the studio when Chandler sent a statement and I forwarded it to Trapp.
“Ay, nigga. Have you seen this shit?” Rome asked from the backseat.
“Seen what?” I took another hit from my blunt and looked over when he shoved his phone toward me. My eyes drifted across the screen. Of course, it was a post from the BB Be Knowing page. “What the fuck am I looking at?”
“Your wife at dinner with another nigga,” he said matter-of-factly.
Dashawn laughed immediately.
“She said if you a dog, I’m a dog too?” he joked.
I snatched Rome’s phone from him and tried to zoom in on the picture.
It definitely looked like Myome. She was sitting at a table with some nigga who was apparently some kind of athlete. The only thing saving her ass was the fact that they were on opposite sides of the table and not touching.
I didn’t bother reading the comments or caption because I didn’t care about any of that.
“As long as you don’t want me to talk about bald mouth, white tongue ass Hazel, bitch, don’t comment on what the fuck I got going on,” I responded without glancing at Dashawn whose smile faded immediately.
“Watch how the fuck you talk aboutmywife just becauseyourwife got you going out like a lil sad hoe.”
“Fuck you and yo’ wife, bitch. How about that?”
“Nigga, I ain’t Trapp,” Dashawn reminded me.
“Nah because at least that stupid bitch can rap.”
“Shit. Barely,” Dashawn grumbled.
That shit made us both chuckle.
I offered Rome’s phone back to him and flipped my blinker on.
“Y’all might as well announce y’all just in an open relationship at this point,” Rome offered.
“Fuck that. Call Chandler and tell her to get that blog to take the post down.”
I merged into the next lane and took one last hit of my blunt before tossing it out the window.
“Where we going?” Dashawn glanced out of the window.
“Pop up on my wife,” I said simply.
Dashawn nodded and rubbed his hands together.
“Shit. Let’s do it.”