“Salutations, D-baby.” Maurice slapped hands, then began a complex handshake, which Dorsey allowed himself to simply be a passenger for.

“Just Dorsey is fine.”

Maurice nodded and shifted his feet. “So.” Maurice exhaled. “My sisters. Look, each one has their own type of beauty. Janae in the boring way, Liza in the annoying way, and Deya in the dumb way, right?”

Dorsey froze. This was definitely a trap. “I honestly don’t know how to answer that.”

“Like, Liza, for example, is pretty in the way that you hate, because she gets on your nerves. You just wish she had boils and warts and shit to match her soul.”

Lord, someone help him wade out of this conversation. How was he supposed to respond? “Maurice, please help me get there with you,” Dorsey pleaded.

“Liza talks a lot of shit, but she is actually scared a lot.”

Dorsey could sense the beginnings of a don’t-fuck-over-my-sister speech.

“I’ll make this simple. My sisters think I don’t pay attention, but I saw Liza’s hand shake when you took her hand to dance. And I’ve only seen her tremble like that when Marcus Davison asked her to the prom in the school cafeteria.”

Dorsey nodded. He was getting it.

“Don’t fuck around is what I’m saying.” Maurice’s face was serious.

Dorsey returned his gravitas with a solemn nod. He would do the same for Gigi.

“You have my word, sir,” Dorsey said with formality. Maurice’s lips turned up at the word “sir.” He nodded and slipped back into the crowd.

Jennifer, who had been loitering in useless circles nearby, found Dorsey again.

“I hope he wasn’t shaking you down for money,” Jennifer said with a brittle laugh. Dorsey remembered a time when he would have laughed at that joke. But now it made him turn to Jennifer with contempt. He saw a woman trying to hold on to what felt right to her, desperately clinging to what she thought she deserved.

“Jennifer, great joke. Remind me, was that funny because they’re poor or because they’re Black?”

“Oh God, it’s her, isn’t it? Who you’ve been texting and neglecting your work for?” Jennifer’s smile tightened when Dorsey offered no answer.

“Wow. This is an epically bad idea, Dorsey.” She looked genuinely concerned. “What have these women done to you and my brother?”

“Do I need to remind you that I’m not your little brother? I know exactly what I’m doing.” Dorsey shoved his hands in his pockets. He had no idea what he was doing.