“How are things going with our project?” I queried, peering at her over my mug of coffee while I sipped.
“It’s fine. Right on target,” she conveyed, focusing on her food.
She moved her eggs around and kept her head down.
“Good,” I said, nodding.
“When do I get to leave here?” she asked, giving me pause.
I placed my coffee mug back down and met her eyes across the table. “Who says that’s an option?” I fired back, catching her off guard.
“You think you can just keep me here, doing your dirty work, held up like some prisoner?” she questioned, brows dipping above her expresso orbs.
“I think I can do whatever the fuck I want to do,” I answered, grabbing my napkin from my lap and wiping my mouth while remaining calm.
She didn’t respond right away, but she kept angered eyes fixed on me. “And what if I stop doing what you want me to do? I want to go home. If you aren’t going to let me go, then just kill me. Anything is better than having you dictate every single thing that I do. I have a father, I don’t need another. This is crazy,” she huffed, frustrated.
“You’ve proven that the stock market is what you know. You’ve managed to flip a substantial amount of money for me, but it’s not enough,” I dictated. “What else can you do?”
“What is it that you seek?” she shot back, and I can’t lie; a nigga’s dick bucked.
A woman with a strong mind and smart mouth was a nigga’s weakness. There was also a softer side to Harbor, which she hadn’t shown anyone around here in the last twelve months. I had a camera set up in her room though, so I could check in and see what was going on with her from anywhere in the world. Yeah, it was an invasion of privacy, but she didn’t have any with me. Every move she made, I was clocking. Resting both elbows on the table, I intertwined my fingers together in front of me and focused on her.
“The records to a case close to me has been sealed within the Department of Justice. I need access to it,” I made known.
“So you want me to hack into a government database?” Harbor posed, reclining in her seat and tucking her arms across her full, grapefruit-sized breasts.
“Can you do that?” I asked, both brows going up.
“I usually charge for those type of services. Why should I give it to you for free?” she quipped, and a smile almost came over my lips, but I held that shit back. “We are talking high profile, high risk. If I get caught, the Feds will be beating down your door within thirty minutes.”
From across the room, I noticed that Celine did crack a small simper. It wasn’t often a woman intrigued me, especially one asripe as her, but she had me with that smart-ass mouth. I wasn’t about to risk it all or no shit like that, but I would fuck under the right circumstances. Harbor wasn’t like other young women her age. I saw the way this generation was coming up. Most girls were using their bodies to achieve their success yet screaming that equal rights, women empowerment bullshit. A spade was a spade as far as I was concerned, and a ho was a mothafucking ho. I could tell that Harbor had been bred different.
“You give me what I need, and I will accommodate you,” I assured her.
“Fine. I need a name.” She plucked a piece of strawberry into her mouth and chewed.
“Ivana Samuels. The case would’ve been from about six years ago,” I informed her as the doorbell rang.
Celine straightened up at the counter. “I’ll get it,” she said, moving toward the front entrance.
I studied Harbor across from me. She felt the searing hole I was burning in her because she wouldn’t look at me and fidgeted with the fork on her plate. She was thinking. I peeped that from the crease in her brow. To be a fly on the wall of her mind was something that I wouldn’t dare object to. She was very reserved, except when she was snapping back at me.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Celine announced as she came strolling into the kitchen.
When I laid eyes on the young girl at her side, I froze. A nigga’s heart lurched, and his chest tightened at the sight of my baby girl. I was on my feet immediately to meet them at the door.
“Daddy.” Ivy dove into my arms and held me tight around my waist.
Embracing her back, this warm, indescribable feeling swarmed me. Leaning over, I kissed the top of her head, surprised that she was practically at my chest now. She was twelve years old, and my entire world. For most of her life, shebounced around between me and her mother’s sister, Gardenia. I hadn’t seen her in person in over a year due to my work schedule.
“Ivy, what are you doing here?” I asked, nudging her back so that I could look into her pretty face.
She was the spitting image of her mother, and it tugged at a nigga’s heart.
“I thought it was time for her to transition,” Gardenia declared, stepping in behind Celine.
She was tall and very light skinned with cinnamon-brown hair that she wore cut in a bob. Gardenia was familiar and resembled her sister in a lot of ways. I swear when Ivana left us, that bitch thought she was the next best thing. The only reason I allowed her to raise my daughter was that Ivy was used to her and because Gardenia did have her best interests at heart. I still didn’t like the bitch though.
