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“Oh! I see more Black people!” Rainey excitedly announced.
“I see them, too. The one with the red sunhat?” Amy asked a few feet away while holding a drink and flipping through a magazine.”
“Yup.” Rainey nodded. “That makes eight out of what?”
“Too many to count,” I added, brushing down a sleeping Chi-Chi’s soft eyebrows.
She’d been out for the count for over thirty minutes. The gummy was effective, but she had to do her part of giving in to it. It was hot out, even hidden from the bright sun. Ten minutes ago, I carried her limp little frame down to the water and got the both of us wet, cooling our bodies. I figured I’d do it every fifteen minutes or so.
Taking a deep breath, I gazed out into the water.
Plage du Petit Sperone…
The place was unbelievably beautiful, one of the best beaches I’d been to. My heart was pleased my baby got to experience this type of exploration.
“Hey. Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Rainey,” Amy groaned.
“I know…” Rainey sat up to face me, almost whispering. “…but she’s cool. Right, Shi-Shi? You don’t mind.”
Grabbing my glass ofPinot Grigio, I snickered. “I don’t think so.”
Rainey was cute. She was young, well-spoken, respectful, and liked to have a good time.
“Okay,so—”
“Rainey, if I get fired, so help me god!” Amy warned again, face toward the magazine on her lap.
“Would you just relax!” Rainey begged. “She’s already agreed to my curiosity.”
“Perversion is more like it!”
“It’s not. I’m inquisitive.”
I snorted, “About what?”
Rainey pointed down to the beach. “You have a baby with that, and you two are not together?”
My attention followed the direction she pointed, and I found Jas in the ocean, splashing water over his globular shoulders, sending cascades down his chiseled chest. The view was tempting, but I didn’t linger.
“Unt-unt,” pushed from my chest before taking another sip.
“Damn,” Rainey whispered, turning over onto her stomach. “I guess I’m too young to get it.” I was startled when her head whipped my way. “But you’re Shi-Shi!TheShi-Shi! The dancer…model…social media influencer!” She somewhat shouted, pointing toward the water. “Andhe’s—”
“Mr. Sinclair, my boss!” Amy reminded her. “I mean…” she scoffed. “You don’t even like Black guys, Rain!”
“Not true!”
“Very. True. Your dream is to marry Brad Pitt’s long-lost twenty-five-year-old brother.”
“Yeah, but…”
Amy lifted her sunglasses, eyes wide. “Leave my boss alone. Yes, he’s rich, but he’s Black.”
I laughed so hard I had to cover my mouth. “Wait! What’s wrong with Black guys, Rainey?”
Rainey shrugged, going back to her stomach. “I just haven’t found the right one. I don’t have a problem with them.”
