Page 15 of Crossing Lines

“D says they promoted you at the consulting firm,” Grandma chimes. “Congratulations, honey.”

“Thanks, Mama.”

“What exactly kind of promotion is it, Aunt Tanya?” Shanae’s nosy ass inquires.

Mom sips her drink and gives her niece a tight-lipped smile. “Executive admin.”

“So you’re still just a receptionist,” Shanae concludes, returning to her food.

“Nae,” Uncle Quest warns his daughter, tone firm.

Mom angles her head and stresses, “Executive.Don’t look down your nose at me, girlie. Your mama was a stripper.”

Uncle Quest drops his fork on the plate just as groans erupt. “Sheesh, Tanya. You had to mention that?”

“Tell your daughter to stop being judgy. You always let her run her mouth.”

“I wasn’t judging,” Shanae argues.

Colin scoffs at his sister. “Yeah, you were.”

“Let’s keep the peace,” Grandma intervenes. “Please. It’s so nice that you’re here, Tan.”

She dips her head back to her plate. “Food tastes so good. I miss your cooking.”

“Come by more often,” Grandpa encourages her. “We can sit on the porch like we used to when you were younger.”

A hum is my mom’s only response, and her silence remains for the most part. Following dinner, she hangs around to chat with Grandma and takes off after a wave to me.

Jamir and I wish my grandparents a safe cruise and head out with everyone else.

As we file into the car, I say, “I’m glad my mom came to dinner. It’s been a while. I wish we could spend more time together outside of me giving her money.”

“That’s none of my business. Talk to her about it.”

His nasty tone jolts me. “What’s your problem?”

“The club is my problem.” He shifts to look at me. “The fuck were you doing?”

“Geez,” I groan while massaging my temples. “Shanae was just starting drama.”

“Why were you in VIP with the man all night?” he grunts. “Y’all were bonding?”

“Stop it, Jamir. Kross and I spoke about our careers and the city. It washarmless.” I drag out the word for emphasis.

“The fuck kind of name is Kross? Sounds like a street thug.”

“Don’t diss him. He’s a nice person.”

“Oh, he’s nice.” He starts the Range Rover and pulls onto the road. “You’re not going back to that club.”

I laugh at his overreaction. “Are you serious?”

“You heard me. If you go back, we’ll have problems.”

My eyes enlarge. “Excuse me? And what exactly kind of problems will we have?”

He flashes me a stern look. “You’re not going back. End of discussion.”

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