Page 22 of Honey Trapped

My phone buzzes, and I see its Bethel. “Lo.”

“Ace, its Alma, Bethel’s daughter. I wanted to let you know that Mom had a fall, and they think she broke her hip.”

“Damn. Sorry to hear that.”

“She won’t be able to come into work for a while.”

“I appreciate the call. Keep me posted. If there is anything I can do give me a shout.”

I end the call and stare at my blank screen. Shit. I need to find a replacement. I had the storage units before I married Eileen. One thing the bitch couldn't fight me on. She never wanted shit all to do with the business side of things. Bitch loved to spend the money it brought in though.

Bethel lived next door when I was a kid. She was the first to answer my ad in the paper to be my manager. The business basically runs itself because the units stay occupied but there’s always a few stragglers behind on their payment. Bethel was greatat handling them because she’s older than dirt and knows anyone and everyone.

It’s always something, but it’s a problem for tomorrow. The office is closed on Sundays.

I stomp around the side of the building and get on my bike. I ride out with Norah directly behind me in her car. If anyone didn't know better, they'd think she was following me home. I lose her when I stop off for gas then ride on to Juniper’s Cafe for breakfast. A new place that serves nothing but breakfast foods day and night. They serve burgers and shit too, but they come with a runny egg on them.

The minute I stroll through the door I nearly bump straight into Norah who is bent down messing with the strap on Lennon’s shoe. I grunt as I stop abruptly in my tracks.

Lennon sees me first and shoots me a toothy grin. “My frand.”

“Lemon,” I greet her.

“I not Wemmon. My name Wennon.”

Norah looks up at me and her beauty takes my damn breath away. Looking at her you wouldn't know she spent the night getting her brains fucked out by me.

“Hey.” She smiles and the action gets a damn rise out of my dick. I knew she was trouble the moment I laid eyes on her, and now I can’t escape her. Problem is I don't know if I want to. It pisses me off. I don’t want to get involved and here I am.

“Can I treat you ladies to breakfast?” My brows furrow the second the words register with my brain. What the hell am I doing? Jesus. Breakfast with her and the kid after I decided we needed distance. I’ve lost my damn mind.

“Sure.” Norah pops up from where she was squatted.

“Table for three,” I tell the teen staring at us with menus in her hand while blowing a bubble with her gum.

“Right this way.” She drops the menus and silverware on the table. “I’ll give you guys a minute to decide.”

We’re seated in a booth with Lennon crawling across the bench to the middle at my right and Norah slides in on the opposite side of her. Lennon has a kiddie menu and a couple of crayons. She’s already doodling on her coloring page. Her blondish colored hair is styled in two pigtails, and I give one a yank.

She puckers her lips giving me a mean face.

I grin at her. “You like pancakes?”

“And eggs.” She pauses. “Bacon.”

“You want orange juice?” She nods and goes back to coloring her picture. I swear the kid has ants in her pants the way she keeps wiggling in her seat.

I sense Norah’s eyes on me, but when I glance over at her she’s scanning the menu.

The cafe is hopping with the pre-church crowd or those sinners like me who don't attend.

“You ready to order?” The girl pops another bubble.

“Yeah, I’m good. Norah?” She nods. “I’ll have the rib-eye medium rare, three eggs over easy, home fries and coffee. Black. This little wiggle worm wants pancakes, eggs. Runny?” I ask Norah.

“Scrambled.”

“Add bacon to that and orange juice.” I look at Lennon as she sticks her tongue out concentrating on her picture. “You got a lid and straw for that?”