Page 7 of When Love Takes Over
When I got to my apartment, I put on the matching hoodie to my sweats and my sneakers before heading out. Once I was in my car, I called Ronin.
“What up, nigga?” he answered.
“You at home?”
“Nah, I’m at the spot having a few drinks after a hard day of work.”
“I’m on my way.”
I ended the call and headed toward a local bar that Ronin and I frequented. As I drove, I replayed the conversation with my parents, still pissed about the whole situation. Ronin would definitely get a kick out of this fiasco.
It had beena few days since I’d become homeless, and luckily, I’d been able to keep it under wraps. After spending one night in a hotel, I slept in my car the next two nights.Sweet, Savory, and Goodehad a small workout room as well as men’s and women’s locker rooms, and I was able to handle my hygiene without anyone becoming suspicious.
Friday had come, and the building was closed on the weekends. I hadn’t quite figured out what I would do, but I’d come up with a plan before the end of the day. As hard as I tried not to be discouraged, it was hard not to allow this situation to break my spirit.
After lunch, I locked myself in my office and checked my bank account. I had $400 and several days until my nextpaycheck. I would’ve loved to sleep in a bed, but if I stayed in a hotel for the weekend, I’d be down to $200. I looked around my office, and an idea came to mind.
I could stay here,I thought.
Although I wasn’t sure how security worked after hours, I didn’t think it was anything more than an alarm for the doors, and maybe cameras in certain areas. If I stayed in this area, I would probably be okay.
The linoleum floor wouldn’t be comfortable, but if I layered the blankets I’d purchased at the thrift store on the floor, it would be better than sleeping in my car. I felt better now that I had a plan.
Once I knew all the kitchen staff were gone for the day, I left the building to get my blankets and moved my car to the street. I entered and exited through a door at the back of the building that led directly to the kitchen, so I wasn’t worried about running into any of the other employees.
When I was safely back in my office, I made a pallet in the corner, turned the lights off, and got comfortable. I didn’t want to move too much until the building was empty, so I pulled my Kindle from my purse, thankful I had enough money in the bank each month for the monthly payment, and picked up where I’d left off in Rayvin Skye’s book, Shining My Love On You.
Time flew by as I got engrossed in the story, and before I knew it, it was after six o’clock. I needed to relieve my bladder, and I wanted to shower before settling in for the night.
I turned the light on and gathered what I needed for a quick shower. I took the back stairs to the second floor and slipped into the locker room. It was nothing fancy, and neither was the workout room, but the employees appreciated having a place to exercise and shower afterward.
Usually, I took long showers, but the past few days, I didn’t have that kind of time. In fifteen minutes, I’d showered, dressedin black leggings and a fitted long-sleeved T-shirt, and slipped back into the hallway. As I pushed open the door to the stairwell, I heard a deep voice behind me.
“Hey!” he shouted.
I closed my eyes and froze, and although his voice wasn’t angry, I couldn’t bring myself to turn around.
“Hey!” he repeated.
This time, the sound of his voice made my nipples hard and my pussy pulse. I was confused by my body’s reaction at such a time as this. I still hadn’t turned around, but I sensed him getting closer. I pressed my forehead against the door and said a quick prayer, asking God to save me from losing my job.
When I felt his hand on my shoulder, it sent shivers through my body. I prayed he wouldn’t see my hardened nipples through my shirt or sense the pheromones my body released because of his presence. I finally released the doorknob and slowly turned around.
Damn, he’s fine as hell,I thought.
“Who are you? Do you work here?” he questioned.
I’d only seen the youngest Mr. Goode a few times in passing and always thought he was attractive. I wasn’t surprised he didn’t recognize me because the times I’d seen him, I was wearing what I called my cooking uniform—loose-fitting navy or black pants, and a chef’s jacket. I wasn’t a chef yet, but I liked to look the part. I also wore my hair in a bun under a baseball cap most days.
Right now, the bun was gone, my loose curls were out, and my hair fell right above my shoulders. My clothes weren’t nearly as loose as they usually were. I planned to layer up with sweats and a hoodie when I got back to my office before settling in for the night.
“Umm, I’m Malyah. I work in the kitchen.”
“Damn, you’re beautiful.”
That wasn’t the response I was expecting. His brow narrowed, and I assumed he was trying to recall if we’d met. On the day I was hired, I was given a short tour of the building and briefly met his father. Kenzo was out of town, so we never officially met.
“Thank you.”
