“Give me a sec,” she told her friend. “I want to talk to my aunt alone first.”
As I headed to my office, I flicked on lights, opened blinds, and straightened the pillows on the sofas. It was very rare that I arrived to the office first. Bliss was the early bird of my big clan, while I typically ran ten to fifteen minutes late to everything—by design. Because I’d learned early on that the first one there or up always had to cut the vegetables or peel the potatoes for my mother. And I hated that shit.
Raven plopped down on one of my chairs. “I need some advice, Auntie.”
Eyeing her, I asked, “Are you good? Haven’t seen you in a while.”
Nodding, Raven said, “I’m fine. Been working a lot.”
“Good. And dorm life?”
She grinned. “I love living on campus.”
“I’d love living in the dorm too, if your daddy was my daddy.”
“Auntie!” She laughed, setting her phone on the desk. “I love my dad.”
“I love him too,” I told her. “But we don’t call him a fun-killer for nothing.”
And my oldest brother had always been that way. When we were kids, Tristan had made my home life hell. Seriously. Like, pure torture. His overprotective, overbearing, overreacting ass stayed making me miserable. For years, I couldn’t buy a date, because he’d threatened everyone who’d dared to call the house for me. It had almost felt like he had a personal vendetta against me. Until I’d discovered he’d done the same thing to all of us girls. Of course, I loved him. But I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t done a little cheer when he’d enlisted and shipped out. Although I’d hated the thought of him fighting overseas, I enjoyed the freedom.
“Anyway, what’s up?” I took my seat and powered up my laptop. “Is it guy advice?”
“Sort of,” she admitted with a shrug.
I took in her features, catalogued her body language—the way she nibbled on her bottom lip, the slight tremble in her hands. “Raven? Do I have to beat someone’s ass? I been ready.”
Twenty years ago, we were all surprised when Tristan had announced he was going to be a father. Especially since he was so young and he’d always been the one to say he’d never wanted to have a kid of his own.
Yet, when Raven had entered our lives, with her dark curls and puffy cheeks, I’d been immediately smitten. Since then, I’d made it a point to be a part of her life, even though she’d mostly lived in Virginia with her mother. Every summer, every spring break, and every other Christmas, she’d spent with us. And when she’d graduated from high school, she’d made the decision to attend my alma mater, University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, so she could be near us.
“Auntie?”
Raven’s voice pulled me back to the moment. “Yes?”
“You remember my friend Dory, don’t you?”
I smirked. “Nemo’s bestie?”
Giggling, she shook her head. “You’re hilarious. But no.”
“I’m just playin’. That’s her out in the lobby, right?”
“Yes.” Raven smiled. “She’s been such a good to friend to me, and I wanted to return the favor.”
Raven was in her second year at the university, and I’d met at least twenty of her friends. Dory was the dud of the group, the quiet, sneaky type I usually didn’t like. “So this advice is for Dory?” I asked. “Not you?”
“She’s in a bad situation,” Raven explained. “I told her I’d ask you to help her.”
I frowned. “Are you sure you have the right Aunt? You know I’m not that nice.”
“I know who I’m talking to, Auntie.”
I sighed. “Fine. Help her how?”
Raven sucked in a deep breath. “There’s this professor…” She folded her arms across her chest. “Professor Cole. African-American Studies.”
“Okay?” It wasn’t like Raven to beat around the bush. She got that from our side of the family. The fact that she seemed hesitant set off alarms. “Is she flunking?”
