Whitney snapped her fingers. “Oh, right. I think I helped Bryson with math. Sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Albany’s shoulders fell. “Mo, we should probably go order our food.”
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked.
Meeting my waiting gaze, she shrugged. “Nothing. What’s wrong withyou?”
“You’re not acting like yourself.”
“Well, I am being myself, Wes. You shouldn’t be surprised because I’ve told you time and again … you don’t know me anymore.” She walked away. “Let’s go, Mo.”
“Stop walking!” I blared.
Mo frowned. “Who the fuck are you talking to?”
Albany gripped his wrist when he stepped forward. “It’s okay.” She stomped toward me. “What?”
“Give me a minute,” I commanded.
She narrowed her eyes. “No. You’ll never get another minute from me.”
“Give. Me. A. Minute.”
Holding up one finger, she spat out, “One. You have one minute. Just until that elevator gets to my floor.” She stalked toward the elevator and stepped inside.
“Hold up.”
I glanced back at Mo as he approached me. “What’s up?”
“I never had a problem with you, Wes,” he offered. “I hope I don’t have to. She’s been through a lot. Don’t hurt her.”
“Your time starts now,” Albany shouted from the elevator.
“I would never hurt her,” I assured him.
“You already did.” He sighed. “Look, I know there’s more to the story, but it still doesn’t change what you did or how you handled it.”
My decision had haunted me for years. It didn’t surprise me that Mo knew more than I’d ever told anyone. Made me wonder who talked to him about it because my family signed NDAs to keep everything under wraps. “Did you say something to her?”
He shrugged. “She never needed to hear it from me.”
I nodded, gave him a dap. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Do that,” he said. “Because if I have to comfort her again over you … it’s not going to be good, bruh.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Your minute’s up.” He peered at the elevator. “You better hurry.”
Without another word, I walked toward the elevator, stepped inside and stood in front of her. Once the elevator door closed, before I could say anything, I felt the sting of her hand against my cheek. When she went to do it again, I grabbed her wrist. “What was that for?”
She wrenched her arm from my grip. “Move.”
“What’s wrong with you?” I prodded.
“You got me walking around here jealous as fuck and I hate it.”
I smirked. “You always were a little possessive,” I teased.
“Shut up.” She rubbed her forehead. “That poor girl. I was mean to her for no reason.”
“You were pretty shitty to her.”
