Page 79 of Surrogate For My Best Friend’s Man 2

Seeing Kim at that courthouse had been the last fucking straw for me. I didn’t care that she sat in the back. I didn’t care that she tried to sneak out when she saw me. And I damn sure didn’t care what excuse she had for being there. The bitch had nerves after walking into Shante’s baby shower with that bullshit, getting her ass beat, then turning around and showing up at my husband’s court date?

Nah I was tired. Tired of Deuce and his bullshit ass lies. I was tired of Kim’s delusional ass. I was just tired of everybody else’s bullshit finding its way into my life. I had finally stopped staying in the hotel and started staying with my mama and Brittany. I couldn’t keep throwing money away on hotel rooms, especially when I didn’t know how long this shit with Deuce was going to drag out.

Grandma Lorraine had offered too. I loved that woman to death, but that wasn’t happening. At the end of the day, Deuce was her grandson. She could cuss his ass out from sunup to sundown, call him every fool in the book, and threaten to knock some sense into him herself. But blood was blood. When it came down to it, Grandma Lorraine was always going to love and protect Deuce.

I couldn’t even be mad at her for that. I just wasn’t putting myself in a position where I had to wonder whose side she was really on, but with my mama there wasn’t no question. If Deuce came knocking, his ass might have to duck a frying pan before he made it through the door. And Brittany was comfortable there that mattered more than anything.

I still wasn’t taking her back to our house. Not after that man had shown up there. Until I knew what the hell Deuce had gotten himself into, my daughter was staying right where she was safe. That was the only thing I cared about.

I was at the shop that afternoon finishing up a client’s nails when the bell over the front door rang. “Hey, welcome in,” I called without looking up.

Nobody answered and I kept working. My client looked toward the front. “You got somebody waiting.”

“I’ll be with them in a minute.” I finished applying the top coat, slid her hand beneath the lamp, then finally looked up.

My whole body went stiff. It was the same man who had been waiting outside my house. He stood near the front of my shop like he had every damn right to be there. He was wearing a black suit with shiny expensive shoes. He looked like a damn serial killer. He had his hands in his pockets. My heart started beating faster, but I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of seeing me scared, not in my shit.

I looked at my client. “Give me one second.” I stood up.

The man looked around the shop. “Nice place.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

My client looked between us and I didn’t care.

His eyes came back to mine. “Need to talk to you.”

“We ain’t got shit to talk about.” I spat

“Yeah, we do.”

I stepped from behind my station. “You got about five seconds to get the fuck out of my shop.”

He didn’t move.

“Deuce running out of time.”

I stared at him.

“There ain’t too much I can do about that.” His face stayed the same. “He's in jail.” I let him know.

“I know where he at.” He replied.

“Then why the fuck you here bothering me?”

He glanced toward my client. “Don’t look at her. Look at me.” His eyes came right back to mine. I folded my arms.

“Whatever Deuce owes you, whatever he got, whatever he lost, take that shit up with him.”

“Can’t.” He replied.

“Sounds personal.”

His eyebrow lifted and I didn’t give a damn.

“That man has been sitting in the county for months. I don’t know nothing about whatever business y’all had going on, and I don’t want to know.”

“You his wife.” He answered.