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Squeezing my eyelids together, I inhaled deeply before exhaling.
“Yes?”
“The expense report. You requested it yesterday. I have it for you right here.”
“You printed it out?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“The fact that it could’ve been emailed poses the problem, Christina. There was no need to waste paper, ink, or steps making your way to my office.”
“Oh. Okay. I didn’t know. I just thought maybe you wanted a physical copy.”
“Please email the report.”
“I will. Your first meeting is in less than twenty minutes. Is there anything I can ge—”
“Out. You can get out, Christina.”
“Yup. Doing that now.”
She scurried out of the door, leaving me alone, again. I tried keeping a level head with Christina, but she was a lot to handle. Every chance she got, she was in my space. As a man who loved the smell, feel, and view of pussy, I had no problem taking her thin ass down, but I wasn’t on that type of time.
Remaining professional was the goal and I was determined to keep it. I’d blurred the lines of business and pleasure too many times and had learned my lesson. This time, things had to be different. I’d ran through too many assistants in the last four years to chance it again.
Looking past my watch to check the time on my phone, I realized I had less than fifteen minutes, actually, before my first meeting started. The task at hand would only take five, ten at the most. I stood and pushed my door closed.
Seconds later, I was tapping icons on the screen that led me to FaceTime. The call I initiated included everyone from the group message dedicated to the five boys my mother had spat out without complications or medication.
“Yeah?” Malachi was the first on the line.
Judging by his background, he was stuck in the nursery. And from the motion, I quickly determined he was rocking my nephew in his arms.
“Maaaaaaaz, what’s up, my nigga.”
“Milo, it’s not even ten. Why are you this loud?”
“Why are you so fucking quiet?”
“Probably because I’m trying to get him back to sleep after being up all night, wearing me and my wife out. Please keep it down.”
I softened, hearing the exhaustion and frustration in his voice. A yawn nearly split his face in two. His eyes watered from the intensity of it all. I chewed on the pink flesh of my inner lip, imagining myself in his position.
The wife. The son. The tired eyes. The lazy words. The lack of energy. My palms began itching at the thought of soiled diapers and shirts that reeked of puke. My chest tightened with fear. The possibility that something I needed just as much as I needed to succeed in life slipping from my grasp as time ticked away made me clam momentarily.
“Milo,” Malachi spoke, reeling me back in.
“Bet. Maaaaaz, Unc gon’ catch you later, youngin,” I whispered, refusing to contribute to my brother’s misery.
A smile crossed Malachi’s face, making me smile in return.
“Fuck you smiling about?”
“You, jolly and shit. Talk to me, bro.”
“What’s up?” Makai joined the call.
“This nigga answering the phone all smooth and shit like we some pussy on the line,” I scoffed.
