Page 49 of Hired By My Rich Baby Daddy

"Hey, baby girl!" I scooped her up and kissed both her cheeks. She started laughing so hard. I swear, I loved my baby to death. She was my reason. "Where yo’ shoes at, lil’ girl?"

"I heard your car!"

I kissed her again, and she squealed. "Aight, listen. I'ma see you in a couple days. You coming to stay with me the whole week."

"The whole week?" Her eyes lit up, and she smiled wide, showing the gap from her missing front tooth.

"The whole week.”

"Ooo! Daddy, can we get ice cream?"

"We can get ice cream every day if you want."

She started dancing in my arms, and I couldn’t do anything but laugh. She was a character.

Paisley rolled her eyes on the sly.

I put her down and squatted so we were eye to eye. "Aye. In the meantime, I need you to be good. You hear me? Be good for your mama. Do what she say the first time, not the second time."

"Okay."

She threw her arms around my neck, squeezed, then took off back in the house like she was never out there. Rah moved to the side and let her past without even looking down at her.

My phone went off in my pocket. I didn’t even need to look at it to know who it was.

"Aight, I gotta go." I opened my car door. "Pais, call me if you need something for her. Not for the house."

She sucked her teeth. "Bye, PB."

“Hold up.” I stopped her. “And if you need me, ever, don’t hesitate to call me. Okay?”

“Boy, gone on.” She walked off toward the house, and I pulled off with the phone already at my ear.

The video shoot was in some warehouse downtown they turned into a club scene. Shit was dope. Every time I saw what his set designers came up with, it was fire. He was recording a video for his song, “Take Me Back,” with fake rain and shit. It was ’bout to be fire. Cameras were everywhere, extras were getting dressed, security was ready for whatever, catering, hair and makeup, the whole nine.

My brother was standing in the middle of all of it with his shirt off and his arms out while two women oiled him down.

"Wassup, oily-ass nigga?" I said, dropping down in a chair by the monitors.

"Shut the fuck up." He tilted his chin up so ol' girl could get his neck. "Where you been?"

"Paisley called."

Ozy shook his head. "How much?"

“Three bands, but get this… whole time, her nigga was just sitting on the couch smoking, and it looked like he’d been putting his hands on her face.”

“Man, what the fuck?”

“It’s straight, bruh. You already know how I roll. I asked, and she said he wasn’t, but if I find out otherwise, that nigga is dead. I don’t want no fuck shit around my baby.”

“I’m already knowing, lil’ bruh.”

I sighed and shook my head. "How was your night though nigga? I heard you had Mrs. Thick Shyt in ya room.”

The way he smiled, I already knew it was something.

"It was good."