Page 35 of Devanté
“Nah,” I laughed. “Just an old friend.”
“Okay, that’s sweet and all…a little stalkerish, but I’m not handing Blake over to you. It’ll be fun watching you try though. You seem dedicated as hell.”
“I am. I let her go a long time ago…I’m not letting her go again.” My words tumbled from me without permission. I pressed my lips into a line and blew out a puff of air through my flared nostrils. Blake had me losing my cool. I looked like a damn stalker calling her assistant.
“Thanks for entertaining me, Noa,” I said.
“I get paid to answer the phone. No need to thank me.”
“Wait, before I let you go…what does Blake like right now? I know what she used to like but you know what she likes now. Help me out a little?”
“Starbucks,” she said with a flat sigh. “She’s on a no-sugar kick though.”
“What’s her go-to order?” I quizzed.
“Americano, vanilla almond milk creamer, and monk fruit.”
“What time does she get to work in the morning?”
“Six fifteen every morning like clockwork.” Noa paused then let out a loud laugh. “You are so fucking smooth, Devanté. I swear. I’m over here giving up all the details and I didn’t even realize it. Get off my phone, sir.”
“Thanks, Noa. I appreciate you.” When I ended the call, I reached out to Molly and had her set it up to have Blake’s favorite Starbucks order delivered to her office every morning. I knew she wasn’t the type that wanted flowers but coffee was a different story.
“Wait, Devanté do you like this girl?” Molly asked before getting off the phone.
“Why do you think I like her just because I’m having Starbucks sent to her office,” I laughed.
“Because you don’t do things like that. You send thank you gifts but having Starbucks delivered to her office every day? Oh, and let’s not forget that you want a different note added every time.”
I didn’t request a different note every day, it was more like songs for her to listen to every day. I wanted to flood her with the one thing she couldn’t seem to resist. Music. More importantly, music that had memories attached to us. She could run from me all she wanted but she could never run from the nostalgia and the memories we shared.
“Help me get this done, Molly. If it goes well, I’ll explain.”
“Okay…if you say so, Devanté.” When she ended the call, I got ready for my interviews. I picked out what I knew would look good on camera while blasting my Jill Scott and Erykah Badu playlist. Seeing Blake again made me miss waking up to Jill’s voice in the mornings.
I missed her breakfasts. I missed our banter back and forth. I missed being able to have a front-row seat to her successes and her failures. I missed being the one she ran to when she was scared or confused.
I missed the past eight years of our friendship.
My thoughts were rattled by the sound of the doorbell. I stopped buttoning my shirt and walked over to the camera. I tipped my head back and let out a string of curse words when I saw Renee. She was dead ass serious about coming to my house.
What the fuck?
I opened the door wearing a pair of sage green slacks and a crisp white shirt only half-way buttoned. Renee’s eyes devoured my body right down to my feet. She hadn’t fucked me since our one-night stand, and it wasn’t for lack of trying.
“Damn, Devanté. Looks like I came at the right time.” Her eyes were hungry and bold. She stepped int the house and continued her thirsty gawking. “Can we talk?”
“No. I’m getting ready for interviews. I told you to talk to my lawyer. Now, can you leave? I don’t want to call the police.”
“You’d call the police on me? I gave birth to your son. Your junior.”
I was at the end of my patience I was tired of being kind. It wasn’t getting me anywhere with Renee. It was making shit worse, honestly. Usually, my be kind philosophy worked on the most annoying assholes but this one in front of me wasn’t budging.
“I don’t know why you named your son after me, Renee, but if you need instructions for how to complete the paternity test, hit my lawyer up. The lab has my sample on hand already. Just waiting on you and little man.”
“You know, it would be nice if you trusted me. How are we supposed to co-parent like this? Little Devanté needs to know his daddy wants him.” The level of crazy with this chick was astounding. I refused to go back and forth with her while she was standing in my damn foyer.
I pulled my phone out and called the non-emergency police number. Renee’s jaw dropped as I told the dispatcher that I had someone trespassing on my property. She did that crazy-ass, laugh where she tossed her head back and stared at the ceiling like it had all the answers.
