Page 21 of When Love Takes Root
“She asked about benefits.”
“She asked if you worked late nights while looking at your hands. Ain’t nobody studying knuckles and veins because they care about emergency service.”
“She was qualified.”
“She was fertile in the spirit. That résumé had three references and a hidden agenda.”
A laugh slipped out before I could stop it.
Juice pointed at me with the pork chop. “Exactly. Don’t laugh now. Nah, but real talk. We need somebody married, retired, or saved past temptation.”
“Saved past temptation is rare.”
“That’s why I put retired first.”
I glanced over. “You might be on to something.”
“Of course I am.” He pulled out his phone and opened his notes app. “Administrative assistant,” he announced. “Must know QuickBooks, scheduling, purchase orders, permit follow-ups, and how to maintain professional eye contact around fine men with broad shoulders.”
“Take that last part out, fool.” I laughed.
“Must respect workplace boundaries.”
“Better.”
“Must understand emergency calls refer to electrical issues only.”
“Keep that.”
“And must not answer the phone saying, ‘J. Brooks Hardwire Electric, where the owner is single, serious, and shaped like answered prayer.’”
I barked out a laugh because this fool was ignorant as hell.
Juice slapped his knee. “See? That’s the laugh of a man who knows I’m right.”
“That’s the laugh of a man considering leaving you at this light.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I might.”
He leaned back, completely unbothered. “Cool. I’ll walk and still be correct.”
We passed the old rec center, and my hand tightened on the wheel.
Juice noticed. Of course he did.
The courts were empty, but I could still see three of us running full court beneath the summer heat: Me, Juice, and Kacey. Pops near the fence after work, tie loosened and sleeves rolled up, correcting our footwork like he was training champions instead of three hardheaded boys.
“You good?” Juice asked.
“I’m straight.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I’m good, fam.”
He let the silence sit before looking toward the courts.
