Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“You know, back in the day before I was married, men were different from the way they are now. You wouldn’t dream of offering to pay for a soda or a tank of gas. That would be a slap in their face. They held doors open, and there was none of this honking at the curb for you to come out. Oh, hell no. If a man wanted to see a girl, he’d better walk his ass to the front door. And back then, sure, some of them would get nasty in the back seat in the drive-in movie or whatnot—those were my kinda guys if I’m being honest. But it wasn’t uncommon to have a guy wait a few dates before he tried to enjoy female favors, if you know what I mean.”
Hmm … “What are you saying, Pearl?”
“I’m saying that maybe he’s like my Alfred, may he rest in peace. When he met me, he knew he had to stick out from the crowd, you know? He had to get my attention—rise above the back seat fun boys. Earn it. Deserve it. And maybe that’s what that man of yours is doing.”
Is it? I press my palms against the table and lean against them, wondering if Pearl could be right.
“If he’s not rushing into things with you, that’s him wanting to connect with you—make ya feel safe. He’s showing you that he’s not competing with anyone because he knows he’s the star of your roster. Isn’t that what you kids say now? Your roster?”
I giggle. “Something like that.”
“He’s breaking your patterns, sweetheart. That man is giving you a chance to see him for who he is … so you can choose him.”
Whoa.
I push away from the table, my gaze fixed on the phone. What she’s saying makes sense. Drake is going slow—far too slow despite the short time this has been brewing, but slow, nonetheless. He’s giving me space. He’s giving me time. And we’re connecting in ways that I’ve never connected with a man before.
We talk. He makes me laugh. We trade stories about our childhood, our friends, and our favorite television shows. I showed him a video about an artist I just discovered at lunch yesterday, and he tried to explain the defensive formation in a football meme this afternoon. I didn’t get it, but that’s not the point.
The point is, maybe Pearl’s right. Maybe he is trying to earn my attention. Wow.
“You just broke my brain,” I say, picking up the phone.
She laughs, the sound ending in a cough.
“Do you take SocialPay?” I ask.
“Yes, ma’am, I do.”
“I’m going to send you fifteen hundred dollars for the coat tree, and I’ll be there as soon as I can to get it.”
Her gasp is immediate. “Are you serious?”
“Well, we both know it’s not worth three grand.”
“Hell, it ain’t worth fifteen hundred, either. It’s probably not worth one hundred and fifty dollars, if we’re taking the blanket off the baby.”
“So you were extorting me!” I laugh.
“Yeah, when I didn’t know you. But now that I do, I can’t cheat ya. Dammit, anyway.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m sending you the money. I hope it gets you on a boat and a working dick.”
“Oh, Gianna. Thank you. You have no idea how much …” She sniffles, crying softly. “Just thank you.”
My eyes fill with tears as I listen to her disbelief. She’s right—the coat tree isn’t worth a third of that price. But sometimes it’s not about the money. It’s about what good the money can do. And if it can give my girl Pearl a trip to remember with her old hag Jeretta, then I’d be an asshole to stand in their way.
I open my Social app, find her name, and send her the money. A green check mark loads on my screen.
“There you go,” I say. “The coat tree is mine.”
“Bless your little heart, Gianna.”
“I’ll message you about when I’m coming for it, okay?”
“Okay. Thank you again. Thank you so much.”
I smile from ear to ear. “You’re welcome. I’ll take good care of it.”
“I know you will,” she says before the line goes dead. “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Pearl.”
The grin still on my lips, I pull up my text app and find Audrey’s name.
Me: So what about a cruise?
Audrey: For what?
Me: I just got off the phone with a friend, and she’s going on a cruise to spend her money so her kids don’t get it and to find a man—probably a sugar daddy by her extortionist abilities. Although she sounds eighty. I’m not sure if it qualifies as a sugar daddy at that age. What would it be? Powdered sugar?
Audrey: Oh, Gianna.
“A laughing emoji is better than no emoji,” I say, typing again.
Me: So cruise?
Audrey: I’m good. But thank you.
Me: I have a boyfriend now so no sex parties. Want to take a girls’ trip somewhere? Me and you? Astrid if she can come? What about Kismet Beach in Florida? I think Banks Carmichael is married now, but we can still have a good time.