Page 62 of Hired By My Rich Baby Daddy 3

For once, Uncle Marcus didn’t protest. Ozy walked over to him, and they slapped hands before Ozy pulled Unc into a quick hug.

“Appreciate you, nephew.”

“You already know.”

Uncle Marcus removed his apron, placed it back where it belonged, and told us he would see us later. As he walked away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. He had claimed he was only tired, but he looked like more than a lack of sleep was bothering him. He held his chest for a moment as he walked away, but once he was fully out of the kitchen, I tried to push the thought aside and turned my attention back to breakfast.

Ozy came into the kitchen and stood directly behind me, hovering over my shoulder while I continued mixing the eggs.

“Boy, you better go over there and wash your hands. Don’t be touching nothing up in here.”

He laughed. “I ain’t even touch nothing.”

“And you’re not about to until you wash your hands.” I rolled my eyes playfully.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He went over to the sink and washed his hands before drying them with a paper towel. Then he grabbed an apron and slipped it over his head.

“Okay, where do you want me?”

Our eyes locked for a second, and the question suddenly sounded like it had nothing to do with breakfast.

I cleared my throat and pointed toward the box sitting on the counter.

“You can mix the pancake batter.”

He picked up the box and turned it around to read the instructions.

I stared at him. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how to make pancakes.”

“Worry ’bout what you got going on.”

“Ozy, the directions are right there on the box.”

“And I’m reading them, ain’t I?”

I laughed and went back to the eggs. “I’m just making sure. I don’t want no dry, lumpy pancakes with batter still in the damn middle.”

“You talk a lot of shit for somebody who ain’t even tasted ’em yet.”

Before I could respond, King came running into the kitchen. The playful expression he’d had earlier was gone, and panic covered his little face.

“Uncle Ozy, something’s wrong with Uncle Marcus!”

Ozy dropped the box onto the counter and immediately took off.

I ran behind him, my heart pounding harder with every step. By the time we reached the living room, Uncle Marcus was sprawled across the floor, completely still.

“Unc!” Ozy dropped to his knees beside him. “Unc! Fuck!”

Security rushed into the room and surrounded Uncle Marcus as Ozy pulled out his phone to call for an ambulance.

One of the security guards checked for a pulse before starting CPR.

“Come on, Unc,” Ozy pleaded. “Come on, man. Wake up.”

“Lord, please let him be okay,” I cried.