Page 49 of Love & Vendettas

“And what time did Shana get off, Zayn?” I ask, pressing my hand against my forehead.

“Uh, five.”

“When did you go to her job to help her?”

“I think I made it there by five-thirty.”

“I’m sure that it didn’t take you more than twenty minutes to get her going again.”

“Well, I had to follow her to the gas station to make sure she made it, and then I just rolled home with her.”

“Why? Does she need a babysitter?"

“No, Ma,” he groans.

“Then why aren’t you here at the shop like you were supposed to be? You’ve procrastinated all month, knowing that you have the banquet tomorrow night.”

“I can easily grab something old to wear tomorrow, Ma,” he grumbles.

“That wasn’t the plan, Zayn. Besides, that has nothing to do with the fact that you didn’t call me, text me, or say anything. If I hadn’t called you, would you even be on your way?” I demand.

Before he can respond, I hear Shana in the background, “Zayn, baby, you want another slice of cake?”

“Zayn.” I moan in disbelief that he’s still not on his way yet.

“Um . . . no, Shana. I've got to go. I’m late meeting my mom.”

“Oh. Hi, Ms. Bayleigh,” I hear Shana giggling in the background.

Rolling my eyes, I say, “Hi, Shana. Zayn, it’s too late to go to the shop now. Tomorrow, you’ll just have to miss a class either in the morning or afternoon, your choice, but we’ll go tomorrow instead.”

“Okay, Ma. Thanks.”

“Zayn.”

“Yes, Ma?”

“I’m not playing with you, boy. Make sure that this is a priority tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he agrees, all too happy to end the call and get back to Shana.

Shana is a sweet girl, a little on the ditzy side, but sweet all the same. Unfortunately, she keeps our son’s head in the clouds, and lately, he’s starting to act just like her. That doesn’t bode well for an athlete.

Our All-A basketball star is starting to look like a dumb jock at times, and that worries me. Zaire says that I shouldn’t worry because he once had his head in the clouds when it came to me.

I tell him that his head is still in the clouds, to which he says, “See, that’s my point, and I’m doing just fine.”

My shop is closed for the day. I’d given the ladies the day off early since everyone had completed the projects they were working on, and I had to leave to help Zayn find a suit for his banquet tomorrow evening.

Full of frustration, I grab my keys and purse, and I lock my office door.

Grabbing my phone, I call Zaire.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey, sweetheart. Did you hook up with Zayn yet?”

“No. His ass is over there with Shana.”

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