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I loved that we all held parts of both of our parents in different ways. Avery was a beautiful brunette with full, straight hair like Mama’s and freckles all over her cheeks. Her skin was a warm shade of rich mahogany, and her smile stretched far when she allowed it, though she was more into a resting grimace.
My hair, in its natural state, was nothing like Avery’s. Mine held tight coil curls that fell slightly below my shoulders. My deep brown skin matched Daddy’s, and my laughter echoed his. I always thought Willow received the best of both worlds regarding her looks. She was the perfect blend of Mama and Daddy. She had golden brown natural curls that touched her lower back, sun-kissed smooth skin, and a nose covered in freckles. She had Mama’s eyes and Daddy’s nose.
I called her my favorite snapshot because whenever I looked into her eyes, it was like I stared straight into Mama’s. It felt like the gift that kept on giving.
“Avery’s going to have a panic attack,” Willow stated as I held the door open to my apartment building. She walked inside and by “walked” in, I meant she floated on her tiptoes. Willow always had a bit of dance in each step she took. She moved like jazz music, with smooth, unique rhythms all her own. Her long legs only made her movements that much more mystical.
“Did you hear about Nathan being back in town?” she asked.
“Oh, I heard, along with Avery. I doubt she’s okay.”
“I can almost feel her erratic energy in my own body.” She shivered in her handmade dress. Willow was the definition of stylish without even trying. When she walked into the building wearing a long lavender spaghetti-strap dress with little green turtles all over it, one would’ve thought it was the most bizarre fashion choice ever, but for some reason, it looked insanely expensive and classy on her. She belted it with a thin brown rope and tied it together with the same fabric that wrapped her curly hair.
“I thought she’d be here already. Normally, I’m the late one,” Willow said. “You think she’s off breathing into a brown paper bag?”
“No, I’m not,” Avery remarked as she darted into the building. She seemed a bit flustered and red in the face. “And before we start sisters’ night, I am stating that the name Nathan Pierce should not leave either of your tongues or so help me I’ll throat-punch you.”
“Noted,” Willow and I said in unison.
After setting into the apartment, I ordered a few pizzas for the night. When they arrived, I headed downstairs to grab them only to run into my new enemy.
Mr. Tall, Dark, and A Pain in my Behind.
As I went to get the pizzas, I noticed the delivery driver was Jason Evans, one of my customers.
“Oh, Yara. Hey. How are you?”
“I’m good, and you?”
“Good, good.” He handed me the pizzas. “Look, I’m behind on payments at the dog daycare, but I will catch up soon. I planned to pay last week, but the Taylor Swift tickets went on sale, and I couldn’t just not go, you know? It’s Taylor Swift, after all. I spent two thousand for my girlfriend and me, but it will be worth it.”
I smiled even though I wanted to tell Jason to pay up or piss off. “Oh, it’s fine. Whenever you’re able to would be great. Have a good night.”
He walked off, and I headed back toward the elevator, hoping that one day I’d get a backbone of some kind one day.
Alex stood at the elevator in a navy-blue suit and a cream-colored tie, looking like he’d stepped outside a luxury Beverly Hills country club or something. Even though I despised him, he looked damn good in a suit. I bet it was custom, too. A suit that fit that well had to be custom tailored.
A chill raced throughout my entire system as I stood beside him.
He didn’t say anything at first. When the elevator arrived, he followed me in. I pushed the sixteenth floor. He pushed the fifteenth.
We stood on opposite sides of the elevator.
“Do you always let people take advantage of you, or just the pizza guy?” he questioned.
“I beg your pardon?”
“He said he owes you and your business money.”
“Oh.” I shook my head. “That’s none of your business.”
“I know. It’s your business. People will make you broke if you allow them to abuse you like that.”
I held the pizza boxes against my chest and cocked an eyebrow. “And what difference does it make to you?”
“Absolutely none. I’m not letting people leave my establishments without paying for my services. But then again, you seem like the type.” He glanced my way, eyed me up and down, then turned back to face forward. “No offense.”
Uh, offense taken. Dripping in offense! “What does that even mean? I seem like the type?”
