Page 56 of Grace

Those damn braids…

That’s when I saw why I hadn’t heard from Witherspoon all weekend. She was away on vacation.

Again.

Chapter 8

Part II cont’d

April | Present Day

“Damn it, David!” Shizu groaned while tapping into her phone. “Can I get back in town before you start with your needy shit?” Dramatically, she plopped back deep into her seat.

We were leaving the airport, being driven to Shizu’s place where my car was.

“What’s he saying?” I was half curious.

“He’s asking what he should have his chef cook for us today, as though I’m coming by.” Shizu sucked her teeth. “I’m trying to lay up with Ben tonight. If he would just hit me back with the time.”

“Ben in new Brooklyn?”

She nodded. That’s the way we identified people living there with money. Ben was a wealthy investor she met on a flight back to the States from Japan a year ago. They’d been dating on and off without any serious commitments.

I turned back to my window where the sun was setting as I twirled a braid in between my fingers. Boy, was I happy to be home. Palmer, Alaska was a cool getaway in the middle of nowhere—hence the opening of a new resort for Shizu to test out—but each day, I counted down to when I’d be back on Garden State soil.

“You sure you’re okay, Shi-Shi? You didn’t get much sleep last night, and you said you didn’t sleep on the plane either.”

“I closed my eyes on the plane,” I weakly argued. A blind man could see I’d been toiling with something. “I’ve got a shit load of work to get back to. You saw the calls I had to field these past few days.”

“Yeah.” She sighed, but still engaging her phone. “They were blowing you up.”

“Plus, I have that meeting with my father I need to mentally prepare for.”

She peered up from her phone. “Damn! You’re ready for that?”

“No, but I’m tired of putting it off. My therapist has been helping me out with how to go about it.”And I’ve got tools for my next venture in the works.

I glanced down to my phone, hoping Jas had finally texted me back. A half dozen of others had, including the staff at my studio, but not Jas.

“I can’t believe you’re going to finally do it. That’s huge, girl! But you’re sulking like you’re about to drop the hammer this afternoon. What are you about to get into?”

I turned to her, smirking. “Well, it seems you’re about to be preoccupied with getting ass. So, chillin’ with you is out of the question,” I teased, going back to the window as she chortled. “I need to stop by two sites and the studio.”

“See, you’re back, strapping on the cape.” Shizu believed that and meant for those words to encourage me.

They didn’t.

I sighed, watching the cars pass on the other side of the Turnpike, “Yeah. That thing.”

Later that day, at close to nine thirty at night, I pushed the doorbell button of a home onLake Sha’Ron. My heart pounded in my chest and my mouth was completely dry. I was here but wasn’t. It felt as though I was watching myself instead of controlling my actions. Looking back at my car in the horseshoe driveway, I found myself ringing the bell again.

A half a minute later, the door opened. Juggy’s eyes came alive as his mind processed my being. “Oh!What up, yo!”

His appearance in sweats, a white tank undershirt, and an open robe would have been comical if my head was together. Juggy wore grandpa slippers.

“Hey,” I breathed out, not knowing what to say. Not understanding why I was here. “Is he here?”

Juggy snorted, backing away, widening the opening of the door to invite me in. “The nigga’s on parole. Where else he gone be this time of the day—oh, my bad. Unless he in Edgewater.” He gaped at me sideways and I didn’t know what that meant as he waved me inside.

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