Page 34 of Just Listen
He furrowed a brow. “That nigga bought it?”
I gulped, before sighing. “He actually did.”
He nodded. “What about the Maybach?”
I slid my tongue across my teeth. “I bought that myself.”
“How is that?” His eyes hooded.
“Hello, I’m your waitress, Chelsea. I’ll be serving you today. What can I get you guys started with?” A young white waitress questioned, interrupting our conversation.
“Oh, let me get some stuffed French toast, bacon, and scrambled eggs, with a orange mimosa,” he immediately ordered, without glancing at the menu.
“Okay, and you, ma’am?” She quizzed after tapping on the digital keypad.
“I’ll have the same, but with a vegetable omelet. Heavy on the cheese, mushrooms, onions, bell peppers, spinach, and bacon. With a mimosa too.”
“Okay. I’ll bring you guys’ drinks out first,” Chelsea promised, before stepping away.
“Okay, like I was saying, what do you do to afford that type of vehicle?” He ventured right back to his question.
I shrugged. “I don’tdoanything, per say.”
“So, money just falls in your lap?”
“No, I—” I started before my phone was vibrating on the table from a FaceTime call.
Without looking, I already knew that it was Zae.
Malice stared at me, while shaking his head. “You and that hotline.”
“It’s not like that,” I denied, becoming frustrated with how things had to look, right then. My phone was creating it’s own damn narrative.
“Then how is it?” He wanted to know.
I took a deep breath, deciding to stop dancing around shit, and face it head-on. “Do you have a girl, Malice?”
He continued to stare at me unblinkingly. “Are you trying to deflect?”
“No,” I exhaled. “I wanna put everything on the floor.”
“Alright.” He nodded. “Then to answer your question, yeah. I got a gal. But I didn’t have one the night that I met you. We was broken up, and we got back together a little after I saw you.”
“So, that’s why you gave up so easily?” I curiously questioned.
“Nah,” he denied. “I took that situation with that nigga as a sign. Wasn’t no need in me putting too much energy into somebody who already got somebody.”
“I get it, but again, that wasn’t my situation. He literally let himself into my house, and waited,” I found myself explaining.
“That means that he still had access, baby.” He pointed out. “Ion even dabble in situations like that, because I know my temperament. I’ll traumatize you with the way I handle niggas. There aint no grey areas with me. It’s all or nothing.”
“But,” I stopped myself. “Okay. It really doesn’t matter, anyway. You’re back with your girl.”
He briefly paused, before continuing. “Don’t be over there looking all sad and shit. Cause you know that you don’t care, one way or another, for real.”
“That’s not true.”
He furrowed a brow. “So, you haven’t seen that nigga since the day he popped up?”
