Page 18 of Mafia Kings & Wedding Rings
“I get there to interview with this couple, and guess who it is?”
“Who?”
“Ivo Marek and his wife, Jordan.”
“Wait, Jordan Henderson, right?” Lola checked with me. “Oh shit. So if they need an egg donor, that means ol’ girl is the problem.”
“It’s what I’m concluding. That’s not the point though. Jordan and I used to be friends. We lost touch over the years, that’s for sure, and then there’s Ivo?—”
“Wait a minute… what happened with you and Ivo?” A playful grin lifted the corners of her mouth, and she crossed one leg over the other as if to say she was ready for the tea. “That nigga been fine since forever by the way.”
“Tell me about it,” I mumbled.
“So, I remember y’all being tight in high school and shit. I always heard… mainly from Jordan and the little circle she had, that you two were just friends.”
“I mean… technically, yes. We never had sex; it was always just… intense. Deep. Ivo didn’t care about my family or their money or none of that, and he’s a fucking Marek. He listened to me. We had fun together and learned how to be in the moment without distractions. We would go on picnics by the creek with poetry books and read for hours. He’d bring food, and it was so serene and…”
“Intimate?” Lola surmised, grinning and lifting her brows teasingly.
“Yeah. I mean, we couldn’t be in public together because my daddy would throw a fit like New New’s daddy in ATL if he knew. Ivo was just the only dude I ever felt a genuine connection with. I have fallen asleep with my head in that man’s lap, reading a book while he’s reading one too, and it was just… perfect. Then I went off to college.”
“And now you’re back, potentially about to carry his child for him?” Lola voiced, taking another drag from her cigarette and quickly exhaling. “Chile, this that shit them old talk shows used to be made of. What are you going to do?”
“Jordan insisted that I was the perfect candidate since they both knew me. Ivo agreed.”
“So you’re going to do it?”
“We have to meet again in a few days for the medical screening and legal agreement stuff. I get a percentage of the money after implantation when the embryo takes.”
“Damn, I mean… I guess you gotta do what you gotta do, but… aren’t you worried about the emotional risk?”
“What do you mean?” A confused frown flitted across my face.
Lola angled her head and twisted her lips together.
“I mean, it’s one thing to carry his baby with her, but this is your egg you’re using and his sperm. So this is your baby, Em.”
“I can’t afford to think of it like that,” I resisted, shaking my head.
“I mean, how you gon’ avoid it with a baby growing inside you for nine months?” she asked, lifting herself off the bench and dropping her cigarette butt on the floor to stomp out. “I’m about to get back out there before Craig comes looking for me. Hurry up so we can bust these tables and get the hell out of here. You hold down the register. I’ll make that bitch Ginny hold down a section with me.”
Before I could answer her, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Fishing for it in my apron pocket, I squinted at the screen. The number wasn’t saved, but Apple suggested it was Ivo. Immediately, my pulse quickened while reading his name. It was a simplewe need to talktext that left me completely unnerved. How did he get my number? I hope he didn’t ask Jordan for it. I didn’t want her being suspicious or calling this off. The more I thought about it, the more I needed this to happen.
“I’ll be out there in a minute,” I muttered, turning my back on her and dropping onto the bench.
Instead of responding to his message, I decided to call Ivo instead. There was no punk bitch in my blood, and he knew that. I might have fallen off in some respects, but I was always gon’ be me.
“What’s good, stranger?” His raspy voice across my line left me with palpitations.
How was that even possible after all this time?I’d been with other men, and he was married, yet talking to him and being in his presence instantly took me back in time.
“Got your message, but I’m at work. I can’t really talk right now.”
“What time you get off?”
“Three thirty,” I answered.
The conversation flowed so naturally that it was hard to tell that we hadn’t been around each other in over a decade.
