Page 12 of Church Girl
I’m as trapped now as I’ve ever been.
Four
“Crow tastes like ass.”
Von
“Gotdammit.”
I jab the screen of my cell, glaring like it just told me to fuck myself. Tossing it on the breakfast bar, I scrub my palm down my face, tugging on my beard.
“Ain’t this some shit?” I mutter, flattening my palms on the marble top and leaning all my weight on my arms.
“Ooh, Daddy. You said a bad word. That’s five dollars in the swear jar.”
I sigh, lifting my head and meeting Gia’s gleeful smile. Little mercenary. The swear jar was my way of deterring her from parroting me and forcing myself to clean up my language. Let’s just say, I keep singles on me at all times.
Wincing, I cross to the bedazzled glass container that’s damn near full of bills. Removing five ones from my wallet, I stuff them through the slit in the top. We’ve emptied the thing four, soon to be five, times. My mouth isn’t getting any cleaner, and she’s earning her college tuition.
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting dressed?” I eye her Barbie pajamas. “I laid your clothes on the back of your chair.”
She climbs up the step stool in front of the bar and settles on the high-backed chair. “I know. But I have to eat first then get dressed. Mommy said you do things ass-backward.”
“G,” I growl, and she shrugs her shoulders, eyes wide.
“That’s what Mommy said,” she whines.
“Okay, but you know that’s a bad word. You ain’t slick, and I’m taking one of my dollars back.”
“Aw, Daddy.” She pouts, her bottom lip poking out.
“Fix your face, G. You know better.”
“Yes, sir,” she mutters, a frown drawing her eyebrows down over the bridge of her nose.
Her mother knew better, too. Or she should. Anger simmers inside me at a slow boil. I make it a point not to say anything negative about Sheree in front of Gia. Apparently, my ex-wife doesn’t give me the same courtesy. There’s no telling what other shit Sheree says or does—I don’t put a fucking thing past her.
This isn’t the first time she’s done some petty-ass things just to disrupt my house. Last month, it was changing Gia’s bedtime from eight o’clock to nine thirty, so when Gia returned home, she expected to stay up later as she’d done at her mother’s place. The month before that, it’d been getting our daughter’s ears pierced even though, previously, we’d both agreed on waiting until she was ten. I’d been so pissed, Chelle had to talk me out of driving over to my ex’s apartment.
The fucked-up part is Sheree isn’t hurting me with her antics. It’s Gia who’s paying the price. Sheree is shifting her around like a chess piece, and it’s confusing the hell out of our daughter. But my ex is too caught up in her own petty bullshit to see the consequences of her actions.
“Here.” I set the bowl of her favorite cereal with only a quarter cup of milk—just the way she prefers it—in front of Gia. Rounding the breakfast bar, I bend down and press a kiss to the top of her braids. “I love you, G.”
“Love you, too, Daddy.” Her pout gone, Gia beams up at me.
That’s just one of the many things I adore about her. That sunny personality won’t allow her to remain in a funk long. With her pretty hazel eyes and rounded cheeks, she’s the best thing I’ve ever done in this life. Gia’s a daddy’s girl, so yeah, she’s a bit spoiled. But even with the big changes our divorce has brought into her everyday world, she still remains sweet, kind and funny. After everything I’ve been through with her mother, you’d think Gia being the spitting image of Sheree would have pain knocking at me every time I looked at Gia. But my daughterisn’ther mother. I’ve worked hard to make sure that stays true.
Still, Gia adores Sheree, and I’m not naïve enough to believe that the breaking of our family hasn’t affected her. I’ve made a promise to myself to be there for her in any way possible, no matter the time. This divorce isn’t her fault, so she shouldn’t be the one paying the cost.
Speaking of cost...
Crossing into the living room, I palm my cell, go to the call log and hit Redial on the top number. I lift the phone to my ear and listen to it ring again. And again. When a cheery voice invites me to leave a message, I swallow the curse burning my tongue. I’ve already put enough money in that jar. I end the call and tip my head back.
My nanny should’ve been here a half hour ago, and she isn’t answering her phone. I have to be at the shop in a couple of hours to do a big back piece for a client. The nanny has only been working for me five days, and she’s been late three out of those five. Now, she’s not even answering her phone or showing up. This is the second nanny Angel Care has sent. The first one didn’t even last a whole day. Once she grabbed my dick after putting Gia down for bed, I had to put her ass out.
So far, this nanny service was zero for two.
Well, three if you count the one with Aaliyah Montgomery.
