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I walked over for her hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Kimberly. No debt at all.”
Her eyes swiped down my entire body and again for the second time. “This should be interesting. What is it that you do…Jas?”
Damn!
But I played along. “I’m in building.”
“Interesting. As in homes?”
“Yes.”
“Is that your family’s line of work, too?”
I pushed the tips of my fingers into my pockets. “Not at all. It started with me.”
“Ah.” She shrugged with one shoulder and her brows like an aristocrat. Aunt Kimberly was bringing back my early days this year with Ashira inBrown Barista. Nosy and entitled to my personal information as fuck. But I wasn’t tripping. Tonight would likely bring it all out. “Very interesting. What line of work is yourfam—”
“Uh, Auntie,” Ashira giggled politely, “kindly allow me to finish introducing the room.” She gestured toward her father.
“Oh!” Kimberly giggled. “My apologies.” She resumed her seat, eyes still batting.
And she didn’t stop studying my body. It was clear to me Ashira’s aunt was feeling the kid. I was confident a man like me was not what she was checking for in a husband when she was on the block, if she’d married at all.
Hilarious…
“Daddy, this is Jas. Jas, this is my father, Noel Witherspoon.”
Our eyes met and locked as I quickly identified the arrogance in the fat fuck and challenged it.
For a minute or so, no words were exchanged until Witherspoon broke. “So, that’s the name you’re going by nowadays?”
“Because itismy name,” I made clear. “Should I go by another?”
His attention went to Ashira. “Does he need a job? Has he coaxed you into bringing him to my home to ask for a second chance?”
“Wait.” Ashira’s head whipped. “You knowhim—you two know each other?” She looked my way.
“I ‘on’t know him.” I shook my head. “Neither do he know me. We’ve crossed paths a couple of times in the past.”
“How?” Ashira asked, beautifully arched brows damn near touching. “That day in my office back in April? You told me you didn’t know him, Daddy.”
“He don’t.” I shrugged to emphasize.
“Let’s not do that, son.” Witherspoon scoffed. “I know you’re a criminal. A goddamn murderer for hire. And I have no clue as to why you’re standing in my home? How are you even out ofprison—”
“Wait!” Ashira’s eyes were wild, her lips parted. “What in the hell is going on here? How did you know that, Daddy?”
“Let me answer his question,” I took control of the navigation. “I’m outta prison because I did my time for what I was charged with. I’m now a free man, pursuing the American dream just like people like you.”
“You’re nothing like me, boy. Let’s make that clear.” Witherspoon looked to his oldest daughter. “What the fuck is going on here?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out!” Ashira hissed, untrusting.
“Well, if it’s about a job,” Witherspoon announced, “the answer is hell no. I see you recently hired four felons and that’s more than I’d like to risk. And you know not to be in spectacular fashion, bringing anyone to my home for work.”
“I don’t need to bring anyone here to ask for a job, Daddy. I’m no longer with the firm to give a damn. Much less, Jas doesn’t need a job; heownsyour firm—or will possibly own it in the future.”
Witherspoon’s head shot backward. Eyes swinging between his daughter and me, he chuckled while asking, “What the hell are you talking about, young lady?”
