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“And you care?”
“I ain’t that fucking heartless, Nelly.”
“Oh, I’m seeing that now. Have a good night, Mr. Pryor.”
He laughed and left out of the door. I shook my head at him. He may have been right about one thing—I never cared about anybody that I had to do a job on. However, Nala was the first person I’d ever felt any remorse for. What she did was wrong, but obviously she did the wrong thing for the right reasons.
“We’re ready to eat now.”
I heard her voice behind me. When I got up and turned, I couldn’t seem to move my fucking feet or my eyes. This woman was a damn visionary. From her skin and that button nose, to those pouty lips that I just knew would feel amazing wrapped around my…
“Hello? Eat. Food. Hungry. Now,” she said as she signed the words at the same time.
I chortled as I finally moved to escort them to the dining room where I had ordered a heap of different foods from Atlanta Bistro.
“Come on, lil Rabbit. I ordered a bunch of food just for you.”
“That’s not my name,” she sassed.
“I apologize, Miss Makari.”
I slid the chair back for her to sit, but she moved to the other side, pulled the chair out, and sat down. Nala looked on with a slight smirk on her face as she pulled out a chair and sat beside her daughter. I wasn’t offended as I took the seat across from them instead.
“Here’s the hand sanitizer—”
Bunny waved me off. “Our hands are clean.”
She poured her and Makari some water and didn’t put the pitcher back the way I had it positioned. I turned it to where the handle was facing the wall like I had it. I watched as she piled macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, chicken, ribs, and biscuits on their plates using the same utensil, and I had to squeeze my eyes shut to stop myself from blowing up.
“Can you… like not use the same spoon for everything?”
“Is there a problem?”
“Yes. I don’t like my food to touch, and with you using the same spoon it’s giving me anxiety.”
She scoffed. “Are you serious?”
“Very.”
“You’re going to use the same damn fork to scoop the same food off your plate into your mouth, which in fact will touch as soon as it enters your damn stomach.”
“It’s different, and it’s also why you see three different forks and spoons sitting beside my plate.”
Her eyes landed on the table then roved back up to me. She laughed as she proceeded to do what I asked her not to do.
“Weirdo.”
“It’s not weird, it’s cross contamination. But y’all go ahead and enjoy. I lost my appetite,” I said, pouring me a glass of cognac instead.
“Cool. More for us, huh, Kari baby?”
“Yup!” Makari exclaimed, scooping her mac, coleslaw, and potatoes onto her spoon and stuffing it in her mouth.
I cringed inwardly but didn’t say anything. I just chuckled at them and leaned back in my seat sipping my drink. After five minutes of silence, my burner phone rang with an unknown number. I excused myself from the table and walked out of the dining room onto the patio. I answered but didn’t speak right away.
“Play?” the caller asked. I already knew who it was, so I didn’t bother to ask.
“The one and only,” I replied.
