Once the paperwork was signed and the lawyers had escorted a devastated Aubrey out of the room, the heavy door clicked shut, leaving only Bonnie, Wayne, and Shamori.

Bonnie leaned forward on the polished conference table, letting out a long, exhausted sigh.

“Thank -” Wayne’s words never finished. Bonnie’s hand cracked across his face with a sharp, resounding slap. His sunglasses flew off and skittered across the floor. He stared at her, stunned, cheek already stinging. “Don’t you dare thank me fo’ the shit I had to clean up today!” Bonnie yelled, her voice filling the room. “If it wasn’t fo’ yo’ mama and Trisha, I would-a let yo’ dumb ass hang, you hear me? Runnin’ ‘round worried ‘bout yo’ music and stickin’ yo’ dick where it don’t belong. Use that same energy to give Trisha a baby and keep her happy! If you ever put me in a situation like this again, D’Wayne, I swear yo’ ass gon’ disappear. Do I make myself clear?” Wayne swallowed hard. “Yes, auntie,” he answered cautiously. Bonnie shook her head, still fuming. “Out yo’ rabid-ass mind, I swear! Got me in here negotiatin’ with these white folks, payin’ ‘em to bury yo’ dirty laundry. They love a ratchet little boy like you - nothin' but a quick payday to them!” She jabbed a finger toward his face. “Embarrass me in front of white folk again and see what happen.” She turned to her bodyguard. “Shamori, let’s go. Wayne can find his own damn way home.”

“Yes, Boss,” Shamori replied, already moving toward the door.

Bonnie didn’t glance back as she walked out.