Page 32 of Nothing Like Your Ex

“Nah, I⁠—”

“Exactly,” Kwinn cut him off. “So, let’s not go there. I’m single, we’re not getting back together, and I’m definitely not moving to New York. Now, is there anything else? I’m trying to be as nice to you as possible.”

“You call this being nice? What the fu⁠—”

Before he could utter another useless word, Kwinn hung up. She didn’t have time for his bullshit. At this point, it would be the same ol’ song and dance with Jabari, and only clowns attended circuses. A fool she wouldn’t be. As a woman—a Black, powerful, sensitive, loving, caring, resourceful, beautiful, and understanding woman—Kwinn respected herself enough to know that she deserved the very fucking best and nothing less.

Stepping into one of her walk-in closets, the size of another bedroom, Kwinn placed her shoes where they belonged before removing her jewelry. She’d hand-drawn and designed the space to meet every one of her needs. The space included a section for her purses, a fragrance section, a shoe wall with drawers, and a vanity, all so functional and intentional.

Seeing that she had enough time to relax before preparing for the evening, Kwinn decided to shower first, then take a bath. She used to indulge the other way around but came to realize that soaking in the tub afterward made more sense. It was merely a relaxation method… she treated it as a hot tub, if you will.

The bath ran while she finished in the shower. She did her skincare when she was out, as a candle from one of her favorite home-based companies, Herbs N’ Harlem, filled the space. Kwinn and the owner had crossed paths at a networking event years earlier, and she’d been supporting her ever since. Kwinn made sure to include at least one of the company’s products in the gift bags she gave to her clients.

Inhaling the sweet tropical scent of peach nectar, tangerine, and coconut from Girls Day, she submerged herself in the warmth. Without any music or distractions, Kwinn rested her head against the cushion and closed her eyes. Seemingly more tired than usual, her body jerked awake at the sound of her Vue app going off. She wasn’t expecting anyone or any deliveries, so the notification immediately got her attention.

Reaching for the Vue Portable on the table beside the tub, she tapped the screen to pull up the live feed from her front door. A delivery man approached with a box. He set it down, snapped a quick picture for proof of delivery, then turned and headed back down the walkway. Kwinn watched until he disappeared from view, wondering what the package was.

Not in a rush to see what it was, she continued unwinding. Twenty minutes later, with an oiled-down body wrapped in a robe, Kwinn headed downstairs. She opened the front door, grabbed the box, and brought it to her kitchen. With her handy-dandy box cutter, she sliced the tape, revealing a chocolate-brown box with yellow font.

“No.” She gasped, realizing what she was staring at. “How did he even get this delivered? What the hell?”

As she mumbled to herself, Kwinn removed the box, smiling the entire time. Melo was undoubtedly trying to impress her, and Kwinn was all for it. Outside of his abso-fucking-lutely soul elevating pussy eating skills, Melo was a listener and doer. In fact, he’d been doing his biggest one with no indication of letting up.

They’d been on the phone last week, and Kwinn randomly told him about a temperature-controlled cake stand she saw. Not only was it the world’s first of its kind, but it was also Black-owned. Though designed for cakes, the cordless, timeless, sleek design also kept cookies, pastries, bread, and other delectable foods warm.

In her spare time, Kwinn loved to bake. She’d been perfecting her skills over the years and always loved her sweet treats a little warm. The hassle of warming them up rather than having them already at the temperature she wanted was an annoyance, but not anymore. Plus, although an appliance, it doubled as perfect home decor for her kitchen. The wooden base and glass dome gave it such an elevated look.

“Innovation at its finest.” Kwinn grinned, admiring her new gift.

Grabbing her phone, she dialed Melo’s number to thank him. It rang twice before going to voicemail. Seconds later, a text message came through.

In a meeting, luv. I’ll call you in a min.

She reacted to his message with a heart. Snapping a picture of her new gift, Kwinn sent it to him with a text attached.

I love it! Thank you so much! With your sneaky self. Who gave you my address?

Melo didn’t know anyone close enough to her who would willingly share where she rested her head, but the man was resourceful. As he should be. With one person in mind, Kwinn dialed her assistant’s number.

“Hey,” Brooklynn answered.

“Hi, Brooke. You busy?”

“Nope. What’s going on?”

“By chance, did a man by the name of Malone reach out to you for anything?”

Brooklynn giggled. “Um, yes. Did it arrive?”

“It diiiid,” Kwinn whined. “That was so sweet of him. I was wondering how he got my address, and I’m like, only Brooklynn could have facilitated this.”

“Yes, I did. He reached out to me personally, sent me the money, and I ordered it. Now, that’s what I call intentionality. Does he have a brother?”

They snickered, and Kwinn nodded.

“He does, actually. More than a few for you to choose from.”

“Well, sign me up, sista.” Brooklynn laughed. “Seriously though, K, I love this for you. Whatever it is… or isn’t. It’s nice to see a man being so thoughtful without expecting anything in return.”