Mr. West (MISTER Book 2) Read online

  Mr. West

  Xyla Turner

  AZINA MEDIA

  Contents

  Also by Xyla Turner

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek: Eli

  Tony & Ida: Stetson Series

  Mr. Vega - Prelude

  Mr. Vega - Ch. 1

  Leaving Fletch

  About the Author

  Also by Xyla Turner

  XYLA’S CONTACT INFORMATION

  AZINA MEDIA PUBLICATIONS

  237 Flatbush Avenue, #187 Brooklyn, NY 11217

  This is an original publication of AZINA MEDIA PUBLICATIONS.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Copyright © 2020 AZINA MEDIA PUBLICATIONS

  Cover Page by Covers by Coombs

  Edited by Rachel Mitchell

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized edits.

  All rights reserved.

  The One who knows my heart!

  Thank you for all of you who continue to support me, by reading, sharing, promoting and just encouraging me along the way.

  It is my deepest honor,

  X

  Also by Xyla Turner

  Across the Aisle Series:

  Book 1: Trent

  Book 2: Duncan

  Book 3: Duncan’s Pride

  Book 4: James

  Stetson Series:

  By Chance, No Choice: Stetson Series

  Meet Me Halfway: Stetson Series

  Love At All Costs: Stetson Series

  Tony & Ida: Stetson Series (xylaturner.com/shop/shop)

  Leaving Fletch

  Crayson

  Mr. Vega

  Me Too Movement:

  Book 1: Carter

  Book 2: Declan

  Legion of Guardians Motorcycle Club Series:

  Just Ride: Legion of Guardians MC (1 - eBook & Audio)

  Let’s Ride: Legion of Guardians MC (2)

  Just Right: Legion of Guardians MC (3)

  Just Dream: Legion of Guardians MC (4)

  Dream Ride: Legion of Guardians MC (5)

  Lady Guardians Serial

  Justice: National Chapter - Book 1

  Cut: National Chapter - Book 2

  Goldie: National Chapter - Book 3

  Double XX Series:

  The Chase: Part I & II

  Line of Duty Series:

  10:80: Line of Duty Series

  10-99: Line of Duty Series

  10-24: Line of Duty Series

  Far Rockaway University Series:

  Love Under Attack: FRU Series

  The F Student

  Bookstore Chronicles Series:

  No Returns: Part I & II

  Bookstore Chronicles III

  Non-Series Book:

  BOMBSHELL

  Across the Tracks

  Power of the Pen

  Extraction

  Cole [eBook & Audio]

  Take A Knee

  Warren

  Always Right

  Introduction

  Note to the Reader:

  Mr. West is book two in the Mister Series. Mr. Vega is book one, but it is highly recommended that you read book 1 before diving into this book.

  Happy Reading!

  1

  Jonah West

  “Fuck you,” she yelled. “Fuck all of you. I’m going to make something out of myself and then all of y’all motherfuckers will wish you had known me. You will remember me.”

  This was why I hated doing these celebrity judge events. Granted, this was a television show, but the emotional response of when you let a contestant know that they have a lame-ass idea and their response is to curse you out. It was not my issue that their concept was faulty, and their business plan was lacking. The notion that they have a good idea and think people should just give money because to gamble on their success and the return on investment. Fuck that. That is nice that their parents believe in their dream, but that does not mean we, as investors, had to as well. This was not the shit that would make me come out of my pocket to invest in any fucking thing.

  “If you’d calm down,” I interject with the irate woman.

  She turned those burning hazel eyes on me and the red that was coming through her complexion, told me that she was about to pop out a blood vessel.

  “If you would just listen to the advice,” I told her. “You have two judges that think you have something. Listen and stop being so damn angry. Nobody said you wouldn’t be successful. They clearly think this hodgepodge of an idea would work. I think it needs to be branded to another clientele and you need a legit business plan. It sounds ideal, but ideals do not make money. Hard work, dedication and planning that is grounded in research make money. So…”

  Her head began to shake rapidly, displaying multiple layered colors under the straight brown hair. It was artistic, like her, with the vivacious language. She was a black girl with a chip on her shoulder, smarter than her attitude would show, but had some serious fucking issues. Pride is one of them. The woman did not know how to handle the word no. She was gifted. Anyone could see it, but her ego and pride would be the demise of her business. The woman was also a young and untamed wildling. A good man to bring her to heel would calm all of that shit down. Then she could be a contender. But, as long as the child within ruled her, she would have a hard time.

  Sitting with a panel of three on Invest in the Best, similar to Shark Tank, I was an investor, who made my money by getting lucky and investing in solid plans. I loved the entrepreneur because that was how I got my start, when no one was doing that shit. I dropped out of college and never looked back. There was no need. A nine to five was never in my view, and neither was working for anyone. Most entrepreneurs had that same internal drive. I almost empathized with the young woman before me, because I was like that too. Until a mentor of mine swooped down and began to irk my nerves. Young, arrogant and on a mission, that was me. Clearly, I could recognize that in her, but it was in my failures that I saw my greatest triumphs. Dakota Bowers was a younger version of me.

  “I do work hard. Harder than any of these contestants up here,” she pushed her open hand behind her, where the rest of them were backstage. “I work my ass off and none…”

  I cut her off, because I’d had enough. Viewers would think that I was acting like the Simon from America’s Got Talent, but little did they know, that was just me. This would air live in a few months and she would get high ratings for her putting up a fuss. The network needed to make their money, but I swear the other judges backed up as they knew, I was the one that said no, that I would be the one to answer.

  “Your attitude, Dakota.” I raised my hand to shut her up and then rose out of my seat. “
It’s shit. You act like you’re the only person that works hard. Get a clue, girl.” I pointed to each of my fellow investors then continued to speak, “We’ve all got here, to sit on this panel and make calculated decisions, because we worked our asses off. So did t.he other contestants back there. You think they didn’t work hard; you’d be wrong. You think you’re owed something, and you are not.”

  She kept trying to talk, but I was not through, so I kept overpowering her with the thundering bass in my voice. This, I knew, caused her to pipe down a notch. Her rage and since she wasn’t tamed, that fight was there, but she saw that I was the true alpha. The shit almost made my dick hard.

  “Now, what you need to do, as I stated before, is fucking learn from this experience. You do not have time to bitch and moan about who didn’t support you. You listen. Just listen to the feedback you’re getting. It’s a great fucking concept but find a way to make it out to a broader audience. You’re limiting yourself and your brand. Why is your product only geared towards black people? Because you’re black? Think about it. White people have had to figure out how to sell to different types of consumers. What makes you think you’re any different? You need to sell to the other markets to be mainstream. Or, do you expect to live off the black dollar? Is that it? Think about your strategy. It’s short-sighted. Just listen to what we’re telling you. You don’t come out here, cussing people out. That is not what you fucking do. You eat the meat, Dakota, and throw away the bone.”

  I was done. With that, I nodded, hiked my tailored pants up and sat down as Dakota stared at me, then she stormed off.

  “Damn,” Alice, the judge on my left, whispered under her breath.

  “Right,” Sherrod, the other judge on my right, echoed.

  This caused me to get up and go to my dressing room. I was not sure how many more contestants we had, but I did not feel like sitting and turning these entitled millennials down. Shit, that woman, Dakota, was under my skin and I wasn’t even clear about why. My manager would call me later, to say that I went too far, but I also knew that they’d mute whatever language she or I used. The network would use that clip as the teaser and ratings would sky-rocket. Truly, but that’s not why I did it.

  Fuck.

  2

  Dakota Bowers

  It was always something. It seemed that I could not get a break and as soon as I was about to take a step forward, I’d not only get knocked back seven but then kicked in the ribs for good measure.

  Like, I seriously and legitimately made it to Invest in the Best competition. I fucking made it to the last round, and it was Mr. West that turned me down. He hadn’t said much to me throughout the competition, but I realized now that he was the only one that prevented me from winning. The man was standing in the middle of me moving forward, and I lost it. I lost my shit, then it was too late. I was already on the deep end and for some odd reason, he bodied me. Like, legit, stood up, put the bass in his voice and reminded me that I was a child. I was mad, but what could I have done? Obviously, stand there and completely shut the hell up, because he was not allowing me to speak. Plus, I knew I had already ruined my last shot.

  Jonah West was one of the top investors at the table. He had been in his career for over twenty years. At the age of 19, he ventured out and made a name for himself. Not just any name, thee name that comes to mind when one thinks of when finding investors. He has also mastered the art of saying no, in his brand of assholish ways.

  He was the one.

  Anger burned as I went back to my dressing room, where the tears were free to pour down my face. Picking up the envelope in my bag, I looked at the folded sheet inside and the tears began to run faster.

  What the fuck was I going to do?

  This win was going to be my ticket out and now, I had nothing. Not a fucking thing but being humiliated on television for the world to see, because of my damn temper. The no meant so much more. The investment was how I was going to take care of things.

  A tear hit the loose, thin paper in my hand where the baby that was within me was pictured in a grainy, black and white, and a 3D image with my full name printed at the top left.

  I was pregnant, with no money, no idea and now nowhere to live. My stepmother, Sissy Bowers, had no obligation to keep me at her house. My father had passed some years ago, so she basically tolerated me. She damn sure was not going to call, having a baby under her roof, a blessing. No way would Sissy be okay with having another mouth to feed.

  The panic that gripped my chest was enough to worry about. There was an ache, the hollowness and weight seemed to press onto me. My breathing became erratic as I gripped the handles of the chair I was sitting on.

  My life was ruined, and they would laugh at me, call me a fool, and say I was dumb and arrogant. Oh, how they loved to use that word, telling me I was over confidant. Maybe they were right, but I thought I could do it. Hell, I knew I could do it. It was something deep within me, that reinforced this notion that one day I would be successful. My invention was my way out. I could do anything and now, look.

  Pregnant.

  Shit, I could do ANYTHING, including getting pregnant by a fucking asshole, who decided that he would just opt-out of this. I should have waited another day to tell him that I was pregnant. Definitely not judgment day, as we contestants referred to it. Why did I tell him on that day… the same day of the decision? The show had not aired yet, but I wanted the moment of the baby reveal to be memorialized.

  The plan was that I would tell him; he would propose or something and I would say yes. I also thought, I would have won the competition and be famous for my great idea. Yeah, it had only been five months of our relationship, but I believed in the power of love or covenant. I could grow to love Sammy for our child’s sake.

  Well, he had other plans. Come to find out, Sammy was happier about me being on Invest in the Best and my product, than I was. I guess the show was more exciting to him, than he and I having an actual child together. The idiotic question that I continued to ask myself was, why did I engage in this conversation right before the final show recording?

  On decision day.

  “What do you mean, you’re pregnant,” Sammy asked, with a half-turn in the hotel room that the network put us up in.

  Well, they put me in, but Sammy insisted that since I was in a new city for the taping of Invest in the Best. He would make the “sacrifice” to come on the weekends to ground me, was what he said.

  “Babe, I’m pregnant,” I answered with a wide smile while holding up the sonogram in my left hand to wave it in the air. “Just look at it.”

  I said so naively. I could kick myself as I was convinced that if Sammy just saw the image of the baby, that he would be more excited.

  “No,” he snapped, causing me to stop in my tracks. “Fucking pregnant? No, no, no -- it’s not mine.”

  It felt like an anvil from a literal cartoon just dropped on me as I heard those dreaded three words. Not Sammy. Not my Sammy. My boyfriend? The one who wanted to keep me grounded, so he hopped on a plane to visit me in New York for the taping of the show. The same guy. He turned and had the nerve to say, the baby was not his. As usual, when I felt like I was in a corner, or when that anvil was lifted off of me, I nearly blacked out.

  “You son of a bitch!!!” I screeched, as he raised his hands in defense. “Get your fucking shit out of my hotel room, you free-loading, motherfucker. You were along for the ride, when you could get what you wanted, but now when it’s time to pay the gotdamn piper, you have the nerve to tell me it ain’t your bill. You’re a fucking liar, Sammy. Get out, and I mean now before I have security escort your no-good ass out of here! You’re a joke, bitch. Fuck you and all that limp dick, just the tip, having ass. It ain’t that gotdamn long.”

  He stared at me as if he was shocked that I had the nerve, but if he didn’t know me by now, I was not done.

  “Bye, BITCH. Get the fuck out! Now!” I started screaming again. “Take that fake ass limp, with your punk ass and get
out of here. Remember, it’s not yours, you son-of-a-bitch. Go on, broke-dick bitch.”

  As instructed, once the haze passed by him, there was no cool Obama limp when he cleared out of my bathroom, leaving all of his shit. Housekeeping could fucking keep it because I’d burn it in a heartbeat. It was all of five minutes when he cleared out and I was left with tears and an hour to get to the studio. Again, why I decided to break the news on that day.

  Fast-forward four hours, I was rejected again and both by men who I had told stories about. In my head, Mr. West could be my mentor. He was a straight-shooter and so was I. That was the thing other contestants said. He and I were alike, so I knew I would be a shoo-in. They said he would probably mentor me, and I guess I believed them. I believed he’d take me under him, and I would have a fucking chance, but yet again, I was left holding disappointment in my bosom and it burned like hell. It was too hot to hold, but I could not seem to let it go. More tears came to my eyes that I couldn’t control.

  After several pep talks with myself, I focused on the fact that I didn’t need anyone, including Sammy or Mr. West to get by. I had done it before, and I would do it again. I made it to Invest in the Best. I was able to get to the final stages. I just had to find another route. Fuck those people. All of them. They didn’t know me, but one day they would. I would rise from the ashes that tried to suffocate me. I would be like a phoenix amid the filth, flying high above them. And this time, it would be my baby and me. She’d be great, a force to be reckoned with, smart, intelligent, and wise beyond her years. She would not suffer fools, and she would not let any man deter her. They were toxic fuck boys with no integrity and would only hinder and tarnish her good name.