“I told you not to hire her in the first place,” Bri chided. “Samira always has been messy as fuck. She stays inserting herself into everyone’s business.”
I poured more cereal into my bowl. “Still?”
“Girl, she tried to break us up last year,” Kay explained. “Now, she’s begging Amir to let her be our wedding content creator.”
My ears perked up. “What?” It wasn’t like I cared about Samira. We never got along, partly because she’d exhibited several sociopathic tendencies. Including her obsession with Wes. While the group joked about it back then, it was downright scary sometimes, so bad that Amir had to get his parents involved.
“I hope you told her no,” Bri said.
Nodding, Kay confirmed that she’d turned her future sister-in-law’s offer down. “But Amir is feeling sorry for her. He wants her to be included, but I’m just not sure. During the bridesmaid meetup, she insisted on knowing the phone numbers of all the groomsmen.”
While I was a member of the wedding party, I’d been unable to attend the group event. Which was a good thing because I was actively avoiding Wes. “I wonder if she still stalks Wes,” I mused aloud. When I glanced up from my bowl, I noticed Bri and Kay looking at me with interest. “What?”
“Nothing.” Kay tapped her finger against the table. “I’m just wondering why you asked.”
What the hell am I doing?I quit. In the most inappropriate way, but still … Ms. Tea doesn’t concern me anymore.Right?“No reason,” I said.
Kay nibbled her bottom lip. “It’s funny you ask, though. She asked about him last week.”
“They don’t even talk,” Bri offered. “Hendrix told me she’d been trying to get a job with Batchelor Corp, but Wes nixed that idea.”
Shit. So I couldn’t simply turn it off. After all, I’d already spent hours on the case. Even if I wasn’t going to work for Granny anymore, I owed this information to her—and maybe Wes. I glanced at my phone. “Damn it. The Lions traded McMahon.”
“Amir told me about the job thing,” Kay said. “She’s pretty unstable. I bet she’s still nursing that crush.”
Albany, don’t say anything.“I still think we have a chance at the Super Bowl this year.” My attempt to appear engrossed in the Detroit Lions—and not Wes—was a front. In reality, I was scrolling Samira’s social media pages, noting mutual friends in my private app, and mapping out her movements.
“Pookie,” Kay called. “Did you hear me?”
I blinked, peering up at Kay, then at Bri. Both of them were staring at me like I’d missed an entire conversation. “Huh?”
Kay took her empty bowl to the sink. “I asked if you wanted to go to the mall today.”
“We’re looking for shoes,” Bri added.
“Um …” Unfortunately, my thoughts had shifted to the case. I grabbed my laptop and booted it up. “I think I’ll pass.”
“What are you doing?” A knock on the door stopped Kay from sitting back down. She hurried to the door, shouting, “Who is it?”
Bri peered toward the door. “I’m not expecting anyone.”
“Uh-oh.”
I turned just in time for Kay to open the door, revealing Wes on the other side. Slamming my laptop closed, I tried to pull an errant strand back into the haphazard bun I’d hastily tried to create earlier. Hair was not my thing, and my decision to take my braids out and wear my natural hair for the fundraiser was as crazy as my decision to drink four lemon drops in one sitting. I’d spent the better part of my life going to the salon, so I didn’t excel at hair styling. Hell, I didn’t own a hairdryer or a flat iron.
Bri must’ve sensed my dilemma because she hurried over to me and fixed my bun. “You’re good,” she whispered once she finished.
“Thanks,” I grumbled.
Seconds later, Kay entered the kitchen. “Guess who’s here.” She glanced at Wes, then back at me. “I tried to kick him out, but he wouldn’t go.”
Wes smirked, shaking his head in amusement. “She didn’t try that hard,” he teased, shoving Kay playfully. “Amir still in Milwaukee?”
Nodding, Kay gave us the rundown of everything she had to do before the shower. “I’ll be glad when this is over”—she sighed—“because I’m tired.”
“It’ll be over soon.” Glancing at me, Wes asked, “Can we talk?”
I tried to ignore the six pairs of eyes staring at me, waiting for me to respond. Standing, I tugged at my oversized T-shirt. “Outside?”
