Page 9 of When a Soul Cries

“I’m sorry about the wait.”

The woman placed a carton of milk on the counter without responding.

I slid it across the scanner.

Beep.

A loaf of bread came next.

Beep.

Then a box of cereal.

Beep.

With every item, I pushed the eviction notice, my negative bank account, and the fear clawing at my chest somewhere deeper inside me.

For the next hour, I didn’t have the luxury of falling apart.

I had customers waiting.

“If you keep staring at me like that, Ms. Reed, I’m going to assume you found a problem with the property.”

Yasmine Reed’s glossy lips curved into a slow smile.

“Trust me, Mr. Devereaux. The property isn’t what I’ve been staring at.”

I’d noticed.

She hadn’t looked at a countertop, light fixture, or square foot of imported marble since we stepped through the front door.

Yasmine was beautiful. Tall, caramel-skinned, and shaped like the women men spent thousands of dollars pretending they weren’t searching for online. Her fitted cream dress hugged every curve, and her ass was thick enough to make a man forget what he was saying if he looked too long.

I didn’t let myself.

She kept trying to make me look, though.

Every few minutes, she bent over to inspect something that didn’t need inspecting, giving me a perfect view of her backside. When I didn’t react, she straightened, walked a few steps, and switched so hard her ass jiggled like the ocean.

That shit was definitely a BBL.

And subtle wasn’t her strong suit.

She smelled expensive, looked expensive, and, according to the financial documents my team had reviewed, could afford to be.

But I was there to close a deal, not create another complication.

I slid one hand into my pocket and motioned toward the kitchen.

“The appliances are included. The contractor also corrected the issue with the cabinet beside the refrigerator.”

She walked closer instead of looking where I pointed.

“And what if I find another issue after closing?”

“My team will handle anything covered under the agreement.”

“Your team?” She stopped in front of me. “Not you?”