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“Try again with someone who allows appointments. I don’t. And it’s still not too late to make you a headline.”
“Damn!” Terrell’s growl had me swinging my head toward him in the hallway.
His big, ugly hand was at his chest as he leaned back. When I followed his line of vision, I found a familiar brooding body sauntering our way. Jas’ eyes were locked on me. The muscles around them tight as he pointed over his shoulder.
Kenny was behind him. “Sir! I said she’d be a moment more.”
“Yeah, but you been saying that same thing for the past thirty minutes,” Jas argued, lips balled into a moue in his approach to me.
It wasn’t until then Terrell murmured with the depth of his natural voice, droning, “I say what the fuck. Damn.”
Brielle turned her body away from me to get a full view of the oncoming traffic. It wasn’t predicted, and maybe it should have been, but I saw as her lips parted and lashes clapped at his presence. Jas’ heavy and angry gaze was locked onto me when he stopped just a few feet away from the office door.
“The fuck, Witherspoon? You gone keep a nigga waiting all morning? I gotta work.”
“Ride’s on me,” Terrell chirped. I felt my chest squeeze, toes ball, and head fucking spin. “I can carry you—”
“Say thefuckless!” I barked.
Terrell stepped over to take Brielle’s side, suddenly coy about his tasteless outburst. Jas, now alerted to my inner-bitch, turned to look at the group he’d just walked up on. His eyes lingered at Brielle, but not in a flirtatious way. I could perceive when Jas registered who she was. His head swung back over to me, inspecting me from head to toe, similar to what Brielle had done earlier. “You good?”
Why was he here? My eyes fell and head bounced in a small nod. Jas then sauntered into my office without another word.
“Sir!” Kenny shouted behind him.
“Kenny,” I raised my hand to him. He stopped, expression crestfallen. “I’ll take care of this. You see these two out, and never allow them back here again.”
“The hell?” Terrell chirped, swinging his heart-shaped frame away. “The bitch is taking it too fucking far. Who the fuck she think she talking to like that?” he hissed, marching down the hall.
“Terrell!” Brielle tried hushing him in warning. She pulled the scarf she donned from her neck to her mouth, covering her face as she followed him.
I walked inside my office and slammed the door, head hung and with the urge to rub my face. I couldn’t do it, though. Not with my makeup. I’d done the best natural smoky eye ever this morning. It was likely the fourth worst day of my life, but no one was worth fucking up the perfect eyeshadow.
“You good?”
My head swung up to that low bass. Momentarily, I’d forgotten he was there. Who the fuck could say fucking Brielle showed up to their job on a random ass Thursday morning? The same Thursday morning my father agreed to coming in to shadow me in hopes of oiling him into resuming his duties at his firm. Also, the same random ass Thursday morning a laborer who made me believe he was meekly disadvantaged and unaffluent popped up.
“Why are you here?” The question seemed to be a running theme for me.
“I haven’t heard from you.”
My head swung over my shoulders at his audacity. “Likewise.”
“I called you, Witherspoon. Three times.”
“Funny. I wasn’t aware.”
“Could it be because you finally blocked me?”
Snapping my fingers, I sincerely recalled that fact. “I guess I did.”
“Is that what you do to everybody you have a misunderstanding with? You block them or kick them out the way you just did ol’ girl?”
Surprisingly, that shit stung, causing me to swallow swelling emotions. “You don’t know me,” I murmured, shaking my head.
“That’s why I’m trying to talk this thing out with you. I don’t want to stop being cool. Can we just—”
“Pick up where we left off? Fucking and sucking without me knowing shit about you?”
