Page 107 of Mafia Kings & Wedding Rings
“Haha.” He rolled his eyes and bobbed his head.
“I got it,” I assured him. “It’s Friday night. Go talk to all your little gamer friends. I’ll make you a snack platter for later when you get hungry. You did finish your homework, right?”
“Yeah. I can’t believe they piled all that on me my first week though.” Saga shook his head. “You think you can hook me up with a retwist Sunday?”
“I got you. Wash your hair tomorrow.”
“Bet. Thanks, Cambrie.” He strut toward the hallway behind Piaget and Rogue.
“So now she’s your best friend?” Tavi sneered. “You’re such a traitor.” She dropped her plate at the counter, making a loud clank sound, and stomped toward the exit.
“Oh, hell no, the hell?” Sol hopped up from the table. “You are not going to let her talk to you like that.”
“Staten, you better check that child,” Rossi spoke up, tossing her napkin from her lap onto the plate on the table.
The fact that she had cleared my plate made me smile.
“It’s okay—” I chimed in timidly.
“No, it is not okay for her to walk around with an attitude like that with someone who is taking care of her,” Rossi declared. “We need to nip that in the bud now.”
“I’ll deal with her.” Sighing, Staten nudged his plate out of his face and slid off his stool.
“I’m used to Tavi and her attitude,” I mentioned once he was gone. “I don’t hold it against her because she’s a kid, and I get it. She doesn’t know me. I’m not her mother.”
“Doesn’t mean she gets to be disrespectful, Cambrie,” Sol chimed in. “I take that out of a child’s ass. She better come and apologize. I blame Nadia for it too because I bet you she’s in that little girl’s ear.” Sol’s eyes drifted between me and Rossi.
“She is her mother,” Rossi noted, pushing her chair over to the sink with her empty plate in her lap. “Dinner was delicious.”
“Thank you.” I paused, not expecting that from her.
“I’ve noticed little differences in the children since you’ve arrived in their lives. I think you are just what they need, so don’t let them walk over you. I understand wanting to be their friend, a safe space for them to come, but you also gotta make sure they know that you are an adult, and you run things, not them,” she advised.
“I don’t want to overstep. I’m not their parent.”
“Listen, I love my son, but it’s obvious these kids lack structure. Tavi and Saga spend half the year with him and the other half with their mother. Who’s to say what type of environment Nadia has them in. She’s never been a bad mother, but I do worry about how present she is,” Rossi divulged. “She reached out to me, wanting to know what’s going on and how she can step up, but I don’t think Staten is open to that. At first, I thought it might be a good idea for them to get back together and try to piece back what they once had.”
Her revelation didn’t surprise me. She was his mother, and she knew the history of Staten and his ex better than I did. For all I know, she was the perfect woman for him and their timing was just off.
“Rossi, you do not believe that after that woman walked out on that man the way she did,” Sol spoke up with clarity.
She’d also brought her plate over so that it could be washed but lingered at the island counter.
“You called her weak willed and self-absorbed. Not to mention selfish and superficial. Nadia enjoyed the fortune, spa trips, the houses and cars. The minute Staten decided he didn’t want any of that, she switched up. She tried to hang on in Chicago, thinking he would eventually change his mind, and when he didn’t, she hopped the first flight across the country to start a new life.”
“That was a long time ago,” Rossi voiced.
“And I bet Staten remembers it vividly,” Sol quipped. “Let Nadia be, please. I think Cambrie is the influence these kids need.”
The familiar chime of the doorbell had us staring around at one another in confusion. The sink was almost filled with water, so I shut off the faucet and reached for a towel to dry my hands.
“You expecting someone?” Rossi questioned.
“I don’t think so. Maybe it’s Ivo. He pops up from time to time. I’ll get it.”
I checked through the peephole before opening the door to the brown-skinned woman on the other side. Very pristine in a black two-piece suit, she gripped a luggage bag at her side and immediately took me in slowly. With high cheekbones, full lips covered in a plum-tinted, matte lipstick, and oval-shaped, champagne-tinted eyes, there was no denying she was gorgeous. Sweeping some of her layered, jet-black weave from her face, she seemed irritated already.
“Can I help you?” I asked, looking past her at a car pulling off.
