Page 28 of Church Girl
“Damn.” She tries to reach for offended, but that smirk riding her mouth ruins it. “I can’t just come and speak?”
“Don’t see a point in it.” I shrug. “What’re you doing here?” I repeat. “And don’t try that in-the-neighborhood shit. You don’t live over this way, and you don’t even like the food here. So say what you gotta say and move around.”
“Who do you think you’re talking to?” she snaps.
“Here we go,” Chelle mutters around a forkful of mac ’n’ cheese.
“Nobody’s talking to you.” Her head whips around, and she glares at Chelle, who arches her brow and slips more food in her mouth. “You need to mind your business.”
“Well, boo, I would but you not giving me or anybody much of a choice.” Chelle turns in her chair, to the left and then to the right, in an exaggerated sweep of the restaurant. “If you gon’ hold me hostage to the bullshit, I’ma speak on it.”
“See, that’s the problem right there.” Sheree jerks her attention back to me because she don’t want no smoke with Chelle, for real. My ex-wife likes to run her mouth, but when it comes to backing it up, baby girl has no hands. Chelle, though? She’ll drag anyone’s ass, no discrimination. “Yourfriendsare always in our business.”
And there it is.
From the beginning of our relationship, Sheree never accepted that me and Chelle are just friends and colleagues. Sheree even tried to make me choose between her and Chelle. And this wasbeforeI married her. That should’ve been my first red flag.
That’s where thinking with my dick landed me.
Divorced and permanently attached to her through our daughter.
Looking at her, I can objectively see why I fell for her. My ex-wife is beautiful. Pretty face with hazel eyes and lips that could suck the skin off my dick. Dark hair in a sleek, shoulder-length bob, nice-size titties, a fat ass and thick thighs. She got that body women will pay Dr. Miami to give them on a surgical table. Only hers is natural. Yeah, Sheree is gorgeous, as the tight, green Fenty sweatpants and cropped sweatshirt attest to. Too bad that beauty goes away whenever she opens her mouth.
Like now.
“Wedon’t have business anymore, Sheree,” I remind her, shoveling more rice and gravy onto my fork even though my appetite is shot. “We’re divorced, remember? Which means whatever this—” I slide the food in my mouth and then wave the fork back and forth between us “—is about, I don’t have to entertain it. For the sake of our daughter, I’ma be generous. Say what you want then let me eat so I can get back to my shop.”
That smirk returns to her mouth. “Don’t you meanourshop?” Her voice raises a little, just enough to draw attention our way.
This was her intention all along. To find me and that bullshit lawsuit. To embarrass me. ’Cause she could’ve brought her greedy ass on to the shop if she didn’t want an audience. You’d think she knew me by now. Nearly ten years together and she still thinks she can play with me.
Leaning back in my chair, I set my fork down on my plate and meet her hazel gaze. “You sure you want to do this here?” I calmly offer her one last chance to get the fuck on. I may sound unbothered, but inside, anger seethes in my gut.
Uncertainty flickers in her eyes, but in the next second, her smirk widens, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “Why not? You don’t answer the phone when I call, and my attorney says you’ve been ignoring his messages and emails. I know the thought of losing half that damn shop probably has you feeling some kind of way, but you can’t ignore a court document, Von. And since we’re going to be co-owners soon...” She shrugs like the shit has been ruled on and it’s a done deal.
“This bitch...” Chelle laughs, falling back in her chair, and Malcolm shakes his head, disgust for Sheree etched on his face.
There’s no love lost between her and any of my employees. She had a chance to get to know them, to get their respect, but that’s hard to do when every time she rolls up in my place of business it’s with some drama. I’ve lost clients behind her ass. And me losing clients means my tattoo artists did, too. So yeah, they don’t fuck with her.
“Who you calling a bitch?” Sheree shouts at Chelle, and when she laughs harder, I want to warn my ex-wife. Past experience taught me, the harder Chelle smiles, the closer she is to swinging. But in typical Sheree fashion, she’s writing a check her ass can’t cash. “You just gon’ sit there and let her call me out my name?” she directs back to me.
“Aye, who you yelling at? You need to talk to me like you got some sense,” I say, voice still even, but my leg starts to jump under the table. “And you’re not my woman anymore. Take that shit up with her.”
“I’m your daughter’s mother,” she snaps.
As if I can forget. I shrug again. “And that means I gotta co-parent with you. Everything else is a wrap.”
Fire damn near shoots out of her eyes and she leans forward. Then at the last second, as if she catches herself, she straightens. “I’ma need this energy right here when I come and take half your shop—”
“You ain’t taking shit, Sheree.” I cock my head, studying her. “I don’t know what you thought you were going to accomplish by this, but it’s not gonna end how you want it to. Now, you walked up in here, calling yourself checking me. Baby girl, if you want me to hurt your feelings in front of all these people by airing your files, I will. Because if I start talking about our divorce, I ain’t stopping with this recent bullshit. I’m going to end with why we divorced in the first place. Is that what you want? You let me know.”
Real fear flashes in her eyes, and I know her decision before she opens her mouth. “You’re such an asshole, Von,” she hisses.
“I’ll take that as a no.” Yeah, she doesn’t want me telling her business. She doesn’t want me to tell the whole truth. “If you’re done spoiling my lunch, you can go. And you better hope I don’t send the video from one of these muthafuckas recording us to my attorney. Maybe I’ll get paid for harassment along with his fees.”
She glances around. Several people have their phones up and aimed toward us. Probably got this whole shit on a live right now.
“Fuck you,” she snarls then stomps off.
