It's Wrong for Me to Love You by Krystal Armstead

Author:Krystal Armstead
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2017-06-30T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

A Bitch Named Karma

Charlene

By the time I made it to Venus, Ne’Vaeh’s entire family was there. The restaurant was covered in blue and silver balloons. I should have known that a few cameras would be there. Superstars Darryl Allan, Anastasia Jones-Allan, and Jade Abdula-Matthews were in the place. Darryl barely came to Maryland after he moved to the ATL years ago. It wasn’t until a few years back that Ne’Vaeh even knew that Darryl Allan was her cousin. She found out on her sixteenth birthday when we went to one of Anastasia’s concerts in D.C. Renée introduced us to Darryl Allan backstage. He said that he found out from his grandmother that Ne’Vaeh’s mother was his mother’s half sister. Ever since he found out Ne’Vaeh was his cousin, he made it his business to look out for her whenever she needed it. Though she had a hard time adjusting to the fact that she had a cousin that was a celebrity, they still kept in touch. Most people would have been milking the shit out of their multimillionaire cousin, but not Ne’Vaeh. The girl could sing her ass off, but she never told Darryl about it. Couldn’t have been me, shit.

Ne’Vaeh was looking very sexy that day in her Coogi dress. I know Coogi was the nineties look, but she was making it look real fly. She was bringing Coogi back. The dress hugged her in all the right places. She was a short li’l girl, but that minidress and those heels made her look at least five foot eight that night. Her makeup was flawless. Her skin was glowing. She sat at the far end of the table, between Renée’s mother and Anastasia Jones-Allan. Ne’Vaeh looked a little tense. She barely hugged me back when I hugged her that afternoon. She looked like something was bothering her real bad. She sat there, chin in hand, with laughter all around her.

I swear, every time Anastasia or Darryl opened their mouth to say anything, a damn camera was flashing. The media has no damn respect for privacy.

“So, Ne’Vaeh,” Anastasia set her wineglass down, “I heard from your cousin, Renée, that you have an angelic voice. I’ve been looking for a background singer for months. So, any time you wanna show me your skills, let me know. And any time you want a break from school, come holla at’cha girl.” Anastasia winked her eye at Ne’Vaeh.

Ne’Vaeh laughed to herself, shooting Renée a quick glare. “Thanks, cuzzo, but no thanks. I’m going to college, then to law school. Singing in the choir is something I do to keep God in my life when I’m not in church.”

Renée’s eyes widened. “‘No thanks’? What the . . . girl the fuck’s wrong with you? Are you crazy? Anastasia Jones-Allan just ordained you her got-damn backup singer! Hell yes, Anastasia, she’ll rock the fuck out of that microphone! Mama, I’m sorry, but your niece has some issues that I needed to set straight!” She put her hands up, surrendering before Miss Joyce got in her ass about her language.

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