Page 69 of Love's Most Wanted

“I might like that.” He grinned. Fine ass. I could only playfully roll my eyes. “So after I do that, you think this real nigga can take you on a date?”

“I said real man, not nigga.”

“Tomato, tomahto.” He shrugged cutely, sipping his juice with his beautiful, onyx ass.

“Who made this food, or where is it from?” I changed the subject, noticing my little pearl below starting to tingle a bit every time I looked at this man’s broad chest and handsome, bearded face.

“My sister-in-law. She’s a chef. I don’t know if you heard of her. Presley.”

“Yes, I have! I bought her cookbook but never used it because her shit is intricate, and I didn’t have nobody I would make half that shit for.”

We laughed.

“So whatever nigga you do make that for, what that mean?”

“That I’m in love with him, and he has my heart.”

“Bet.”

* * *

I had just left a meeting with the business loan officer at St. Thomas Financial, feeling good. I didn’t tell Unique because I didn’t want him getting me any favors, as crazy as that sounded.

The officer sounded like he liked my ideas and explained they would review everything and call if they had any questions before I got a decision.

I’d been praying all week that I got this loan so I could invest in starting my own makeup line. I’d already mapped everything out as far as what I would need for branding, the ingredients, website, and everything else.

My personal funds were quite low since clients had been coming in pretty slowly, so I began to accept the fact that my career as a makeup artist was surely over. Rina had been nice, but she was only one person, and I couldn’t float off that.

My phone was jumping as soon as I walked into my studio, making me retrieve it as I plopped down on the couch. I saw I was being tagged in a live from none other than Zosia. Typically, I would ignore it, but I hadn’t dealt with AJ in a minute, so my interest was piqued as to why she was even talking about me still. This was exactly why I couldn’t get my career back on track while AJ’s was seemingly untouched.

“She’s still fucking with him!” Zosia held up what looked like a phone bill with my number on it. “Where is my husband, Kabrina, because he’s been out all night!”

Like clockwork, hundreds of texts started coming through with people calling me all types of sluts, hos, bitches, and everything else, excluding a child of God. I couldn’t block or report it to spam quickly enough, so I just powered it down.

“What the fuck?” I grumbled.

That man and I hadn’t conversed since the abortion situation, so whatever bill she was holding was old. And whomever he was with, it wasn’t me.

Remembering she’d called me once, I turned my phone back on and unblocked her.

“Where is he!” she roared, and I could hear how hurt and upset she was. For a split second, I felt bad. She was almost hoarse.

“Zosia,” I said calmly, remembering she was post-partum. “I am not with him.”

“Yeah, right! Then where is he? He left yesterday evening and hasn’t been back!”

“I don’t know.” I tried to keep chill, though she was annoying me with all the yelling.

“Prove it then.”

“How the fuck can I do that?” I paused my pacing. My hands were itching to knock this ho out, and I’d refrained because, at the end of the day, I had slept with her husband. It didn’t matter if I knew or not.

However, the more she did, the less I felt inclined to hold off on her. I wasn’t exactly a huge fighter, but I did fight, especially when people popped shit like she did. Had she been anyone else, I would’ve been tried to pull up on her.

“Meet me right now.”

“Zosia, if I meet you right now, I am going to put hands on you. Is that what you want? If so, I can gladly give you my address or a meeting spot.”