Page 75 of Betrothed To Love

“It’s already real.”

“You’re right,” I say, then open the email. As always, Max is thorough. I have info, a lot of it, and pictures. “Damn,” I utter. “She’s my sister. I can’t deny that shit. She looks just like Asali and her name is Alami. In Hausa, that means she was born on a Thursday. Wow. He gave her a traditional name.” I shake my head in pure disbelief. This shit is real.

“Wow,” Mireya says. “So, he’s in her life?”

“Well, looks like he was at birth at least. I’m sure he named her,” I say, then read on. “She’s a senior at Douglasville Prep. She’s an honors student with a 3.9 G.P.A. and she’s on debate. She’s smart.”

“Smart like her brother.”

“She has a cell phone number,” I say. “Should I call her?”

“What about her mother?”

“Oh, I don’t have shit to say to her.”

“I know, baby, but Alami is a minor.”

“She’s seventeen and my sister. It’ll be fine,” I counter.

“But you don’t know what your sister knows. You just found out about her; she might not know anything about y’all. Your call could shatter her entire world if she doesn’t.”

“Shit. You’re right.” I sigh, then open the separate file for Laticia Morris. “She lives in D-Ville, the old projects here that were renovated. She’s fifty-two and works at The Drexel, the big hotel downtown in Concierge,” I summarize from the file.

“What does she look like? Is she pretty?” she asks.

After examining the face on the copy of the license, I say, “She looks okay. Not as beautiful as Shuga for sure.”

“Oh I know that. Your mother is beautiful. But do you have her number? Call her first.”

“And say what? I’m not really feeling calling the woman who fucked Asali,” I scoff.

“I can call her for you,” my kyau says, instantly relieving my apprehension. “I’ll tell her who I am and see if she’ll talk to me.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, baby. Send me the number. I’ll handle it and let you know.”

“I love you.”

“I know,” she says, flashing her pretty ass smile. “Did you eat lunch yet?” Last night for dinner, she made delicious ass jerk chicken pasta. We all have the leftovers for lunch, even Niya. She loved it and wanted it in her lunch kit today too.

“I was about to eat after this. The morning has been hell. I had two clients booked last night and I walked into two first appearance hearings. It’s been a day.”

“Small things to a giant. You got this, baby,” she says and I smile.

“Hype your man up then.”

“All the time.”

“What about you? The debate is in four days. Did Duke stop by with your key points?” I ask.

“Yeah. He had a good amount based on the last polls but I’m really not worried. My bench record speaks for itself. All of my rulings and sentences have been fair, across the board, and I know who I am. There’s nothing Richardson can throw at me that I can’t catch. I’m ready. I earned my spot and no one is going to get me out of it,” she says with so much confidence.

“Damn, kyau. You are and hearing you speak so confidently like that is sexy as hell,” I say and her beautiful face lights up.

“Now, you’re hyping me up. I like it though. Debate will be fine as long as you are right there in the front row looking at me like you are now.”

“I’ll be front and center,” I assure her. “But did you eat lunch?”