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10
We didn’t spend the entire weekend having sex. Maybe seventy-five percent of it. Kara did take me around the city to show me historical locations—Armstrong park, Congo Square—and we even visited parts of New Orleans that are still in recovery from the hurricane. Yes, even now there are areas that need attention. I actually sent a few emails to some companies I know to do some pro-bono work for some residents still in need, including my own company. That move alone got me a blow job in the jacuzzi tub in our room.
It’s weird saying ‘our’ room, but it feels like the perfect description. We stopped by her house to create meals after ‘making groceries’, so we wouldn’t eat out so much, and took it all back for us to eat later. I love hearing the NO sayings. We didn’t receive odd looks either when we were out together. This really should be the city of love. I know the history doesn’t support it, but the people of today are so much more loving, open, and accepting of each other. Racism is still alive, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t see any of it when we were out.
“These glasses got in quick. Did you put a rush on them?”
“No. They did a bridal shower show I attended once to get ideas on decorations. All about networking, baaby.”
She kisses me as we continue to unpack and stock the bar room with supplies. My guys are building the bar setup today, and the cooling system is scheduled to be installed this week. I sent an email to Marcus this morning giving the recommendations for the catering he wants for the opening. He’d probably try to hire my girl if he had her seafood gumbo. I’ve been here for five months and never had gumbo the way she makes it. Her sister is a good cook, too. I know they had a conversation about our relationship. I just wonder if she mentioned the Jamaica job. We haven’t spoken about it since I asked her Friday night. Well, early Saturday morning, actually.
“Brent, Franklin’s on the phone for you,” Darlene announces, entering the store room.
Good thing she wasn’t here early this morning. We made a stop by the store on the way in to get more protection. We used most of the other ones as water balloons and had a fight at Kara’s house with her sister.
“Okay. I’ll be right there.” I kiss Kara and head out to accept the call.
“Franklin, my man. What’s going on?”
“Hey, Brent. I need to get some things squared away for access and need a list of all your staff. I have the list of construction teams but I don’t have your designer’s name.”
“Uh, well, that’s because I’m still waiting on her to get her clearance. What, it takes a day to get the access? I’ll have it before the start or we will use Marlissa as a placeholder.”
“Have you worked with this designer before? I heard the last one quit on the project you’re working now.”
“Yes, she did quit, but the replacement is ten times better. I would pick her a million times over anyone else.”
“Okay, man. I’ll trust you not to screw this over. I got those prints, and we love them. Just a few adjustments on the office sizes, and we are in business.”
“Okay. Send me what you’re thinking, and I will make the adjustments and get it to the permit office as an addendum. Anything else you need?”
“That’s it for now. Congratulations on the build. See you in three weeks.”
We disconnect, and I take a moment to think about Kara. If she says no, not only will I have to find another designer for the Jamaica project, but I won’t know where that will leave us and a relationship. I mean, sure we can fly in and out to see each other on weekends and maybe take time away to spend together, but I’m not sure how effective that would be in a commitment.
The sound of glass shattering breaks my thoughts, and I run to Kara’s side.
“Fuck,” she exclaims loudly as I enter the room.
“Baby, are you okay?”
“Fuck no. I cut my foot.”
I cradle her in my arms and sit her on the bar platform. Darlene rushes with the first-aid kit, and I tend to her injury.
“How did this happen?” Darlene asks, making a note for the report we have to file with OSHA.
“I was putting this box on the top shelf and I didn’t see the glass I sat out for inspection as it appeared to be flawed. It was knocked down, and I tried to kick it away and got cut instead. Such a dumbass.”
“Stop. You’re not a dumbass. Shit happens. Luckily, it’s not deep, and it didn’t cut any veins,” Darlene affirms.
She jumps at my application of the saline and alcohol. I apply ointment to protect it from infection while Jerome sweeps up the glass fragments.
“There, all cleaned up. You want your tennis shoes from the car?” I ask.
Eyes turn and look at us, and I ignore them.
“Yes, and I have a pair of socks in the glove box.”
