She frowned, “no, I'm starving too.”
“I figured.” I set her food down and pulled the chair closer to her desk. “Now, what’s going on?”
Kema sighed before opening the container. “My boss is getting on my fucking nerves.”
“What he do?”
“He gave one of my listings to his nephew after I did all the work to get the client. Then he told me I needed to train the same nephew because I have more experience.”
“They paying you extra?”
“Nope.”
“Did you ask?”
“He said I should be grateful he trusts me with more responsibility.”
I sat back in the chair rubbing my chin. “Lemme get this straight... He wants you to do more work while anotha nigga gets paid from it?”
“Exactly.”
“Where his office at?”
“Ace.”
“I just want to talk to him."
“No, you don’t.”
She was right. I didn’t wanna talk. And her boss better be glad Kema was in here asking me not to go beat his ass.
Kema picked at her food before putting her fork down. “I got my broker’s license the week before Cancún. I’ve been asking about moving up, but they don’t want to pay me what I’m worth. They want me to train people, fix everybody’s mistakes and keep bringing in clients while they make the money.”
“Open your own shit then, baby.”
She looked at me like I suggested she buy the moon. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“Because businesses cost money. I would need an office, insurance, systems, marketing and enough saved to survive until I started making a profit.”
“You know how much you need?”
She hesitated. “Not exactly.”
“Then that’s the first problem we solve.”
“Ace, I can’t just quit my job.”
“I didn’t tell you to quit today. I said open your own shit. Make a plan first.”
Kema stared at me before slowly picking up her fork again. “You really think I could do it?”
“I know you can.”
“You haven’t seen me work.”
“I’ve seen how people call you all day asking questions they should be asking your boss. I’ve seen you answer emails at midnight and close deals on weekends. You already doing the work. You just letting somebody else put their name on it.”