Arguing with her about who was in charge wasn’t an option. Because from the time I could think for myself, it felt like I’d been the parent of the relationship. “You called me? What’s going on?”
“Shit,” she grumbled, pushing papers around on her desk. Eventually, she pulled out an envelope and waved it in front of me. “The mortgage is late, and my water bill is behind. The city is threatening to shut it out…I mean off. The bank wants to foreclose.”
I took the envelope from her. “I’ll pay both of the bills tomorrow. I told you to just let me handle your finances.” It had been a recurring argument between us, because she’d wanted to maintain her independence. Even though that had never stopped her from asking for money.
“So you can give me an allowance?” she questioned. “Hell no.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “Why don’t you take a shower? I’ll change your sheets and throw these clothes in the washing machine.”
She smiled for the first time since I’d arrived. “Can you go to the store and grab me a couple of candy bars?” My mother loved chocolate. “I ran out.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
Mom tried to take the bottle from me again, but I was quicker. She glared at me as I poured that one out too. “When you leave, I’ll just get more.” Her matter-of-fact response irritated me. “You always think you’re better than me,” she growled.
“Nah, that’s not it. I thinkyou’rebetter thanthis,” I yelled. “Damn, Ma, when is it going to be enough? When are you going to start taking responsibility for yourself? When are you going to get tired of living like this?” I waved my hands around the room. “Nothing has changed. You’re still living in the same place, talking about the same shit, and fucking around with the same people.”
“See?” She pointed at me. “You’re just like your father.”
“Don’t do that.” It was her patented response every time I told her she needed to get her shit together. Soon, the tears would follow.
Her chin trembled and the first tear fell. “He treated me like I was beneath him too.”
My parents had been children themselves when I was conceived and had never been an official couple. There’d been no co-parenting, no communication between them. Just bitterness on my mother’s part. But I’d seen my father every other weekend and on the occasional holiday until he’d died, right before my thirteenth birthday.
“Don’t start this,” I warned. “Dad isn’t here anymore, and I don’t want to talk about this shit. I’ve heard it my whole life.”
“That’s what you think,” she said with a shrug.
I froze. “What are you talking about?”
“Since you think you know everything, I’m going to tell you something you don’t know.”
Frustrated, I snapped, “What? What is it I don’t know?”
“Preston Hayes Sr. was not your father. Your real father lived his best life—without you.” She stumbled into the bathroom, whirling around to face me. “Now, run tell that.” Then, she slammed the door in my face.
Chapter Three
Slide
Dallas
If I didn’t like dick so much, I would’ve sworn off men a long time ago. Because what the hell else were they good for? Surely not financial security, because I could pay my own bills. Definitely not protection, because the last few men I’d dated had been so damn weak. More scared of spiders than I was, and certainly not willing to get my back in any fight. Absolutely not conversation, because they didn’t listen. And they were so damn needy. Always wanting time and checking in and phone calls. I didn’t have time for that shit.
Case in point…my client. Langston Sykes was the son of a prominent politician. Our families had traveled in the same circles for years. His mother was like an angel on earth, a beautiful woman with a genuine spirit. Too bad her son was a self-entitled asshole who cared more about his fingernails than about people. On paper, though, he was the perfect man. Educated. Handsome. Successful. But he was a little punk. Instead of killing the bee that had flown into my office, he’d walked out and asked Dexter to come in and do it. And for the last hour and a half, he’d nitpicked on every clause in the prenuptial I’d been negotiating with his future wife. The jerk had insisted on weight and BMI criteria for his fiancée, had suggested adding a required amount of sex per week to the agreement, had requested limits to social media posts, and had even tried to sneak in a section giving him the leeway to cheat once a year with no questions.
“Anything else I should be thinking about?” He glanced at his watch. For most of our meeting, he’d failed to make eye contact, splitting his attention between the floor, his phone, and my breasts. “My colleague’s brother mentioned it might be wise to include a beauty budget—because, you know…women spend thousands on plastic surgery nowadays, and I don’t want to pay for that shit.”
I blinked. I’d never liked him, but I loved his mother, which was why I’d agreed to thisfavor. Now, I was just ready for this to be over.
He shrugged. “She’ll sign it. I’m a catch. She should be lucky I chose her.”
“Sure!” My pseudo enthusiasm dripped with sarcasm. “While we’re at it, how about we add in a drug test requirement? Better yet, how about we put in a clause regulating the number of orgasms she can have when she masturbates?”
He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “I think I like that drug test provision. I hear she did ecstasy back in the day.” When I didn’t respond, he continued, “Really?” His amused smile made me sick. “Is this how we’re treating clients now?”
I was done with Langston. If he didn’t know it now, he would in a few minutes. When we were younger, my siblings hadaffectionatelynicknamed me I.Q., for Ice Queen. Or D.D., forDamn, Dallas!”Which often was accompanied by “you’re so damn evil.” Early on, I’d decided no one should know what I was thinking or how I felt at any given time—unless I wanted them to know. Not only had I mastered the art of the poker face, but my “you ain’t shit” stare had weakened even the strongest men. I wouldn’t say I was mean, but I didn’t necessarily like people. I fucked with my family—and mytwo and a possible. That was the number of friends on my list—Demi, Cooper, and… sorta Preston.
