Page 1 of Cherry's Jubilee

Chapter 1

Cherry

“Tell them, Mandy,” I say to no one as I listen to my favorite radio personality podcast.

“So, you mean to tell me,” Mandy says, “that your ratchet ass sister stole your boyfriend, is marrying him in six months,andyour entire family is on board?”

“Yes,” the caller says with a sniffle.

“Girl, stop crying! It’s time to go scorched earth.” Mandy stops and takes a loud, dramatic breath. “And she not only asked you to be her maid of honor but expects you to pay for part of the wedding, throw her a shower, plan,andpay for a bachelorette party? Let me ask you something. Do you have the word doormat tattooed on your forehead?” When the caller remains quiet, Mandy says, “Answer me.”

“No.”

“Hell no, you are no one’s doormat. No one is going to wipe their feet on your face, girlie. Listen, you call that triflin' ass sister and her fiancé and tell them they can kiss your plump, black ass. They are not entitled to your time, energy, or money. And listen, they both did you dirty, and karma has a way of getting back at people. That’s my pep talk. Now, I’m going to call you out.”

“What? What did I do?” she asks, and I cackle.

“You let these people live rent-free in your head when they don’t deserve it. You show people how to treat you, and you have shownthem they are allowed to treat you badly. Stiffen your spine. Get some sass. Tell them off and go on with your life. Go no contact until they get their act right.”

The call ends, but I find myself agreeing with everything Messy Mandy just said.

That is why I’m avoiding my cousin’s party today, but despite what she thinks, she did not steal a man away from me. I’ll let her believe it until it’s time for me to wipe the smug look off her face.

“Ugh!” I say, determined to take Mandy’s sage advice and not let these toxic relatives live rent-free in my head.

I knew I shouldn’t have opened my door. The minute I did and saw who was on the other side, I knew I messed up. He sticks one of his big ass feet inside, preventing me from closing it. But I try anyway. All with no success because the person trying to get in is six-foot-six and two-hundred-eighty pounds.

“Dammit, Kirby,” I grumble while I try and shove at his chest. He laughs as if my attempt to defend myself is amusing. He pushes the door in, and I stumble back. He grabs my hand and stops me from falling on my ass.

I should have just fallen because, in the next instant, he’s throwing me over his shoulder and running out of my apartment with me like I’m a bag of dirty laundry.

“Put me down, you big bully!”

He doesn’t listen. He flies down the stairs from my fourth-floor apartment to the second floor. I start to get nauseous as he runs down the hall. Of course, his door is open, and when we get inside, he drops me on his couch.

I look up into eyes similar to mine.

“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” my sister, Solange, asks.

“I told you I’m not going. There was no point in sending your thug of a husband to kidnap me.” I blow a breath up. “I should call the police and press charges on both of you. You’re the worst kind of woman, Sol. The kind who lets a man kidnap her sister.”

She rolls her eyes and extends her hands to Kirby. He slaps some clothes into them, and she throws them in my face.

“Put that shit on, and let’s go. I need your help,” she says. “And Kirby is my muscle. Aren’t you, baby?” She looks into his face and bats her eyes. He flexes his bicep and kisses it while he wiggles his brows at her.

“No one says no to my wife. Not even me,” Kirby says. “We have to go.” He whistles and gestures for me to pick up the clothes, then points to the bathroom.

I stand, knowing I’m defeated, but I still get in my brother-in-law’s face and stick my middle finger in it. All he does is grin. There’s no one on earth I love more than my sister, and Kirby is a close second. She needs me or she wouldn’t have asked. Since they just started their catering business, I guess the free labor I can provide is the best kind.

“I don’t know why you agreed to do this shit anyway,” I grumble. “And you’re a caterer, so why did you plan this stupid party?”

“Because they asked and it’s the first job we’ve had in months. We also need money to eat. It’s an expensive little habit we’ve picked up,” Solange says. “And my plans of being a gold digger fell through.” She gives her husband the side-eye.

“Sorry I didn’t make it into the NFL, baby,” he says. “Maybe I can make it up to you tonight.” He lifts his shirt and starts to gyrate.

I ignore them and leave for the bathroom to change into the t-shirt with their company logo.

I’ve worked at their events before, and it’s never been a big deal. I don’t take payment, but if I tend bar like I usually do, I get tips, which more than makes up for it, but this event is different.

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