Page 15 of Anything Necessary for Her
“How do you know Waverley?” I asked, smiling down at the cutie. She shared some features with Low, but not completely, so maybe that was her mother in her.
Suddenly, I remembered her age and knew it couldn’t be possible for Low to have fathered her. I knew him still when she was born. This had to be a sibling or cousin.
“My baby sister,” he replied, and I hated that I sighed inwardly out of relief despite already coming to that conclusion myself.
I couldn’t say I didn’t want a man with a child, but I was an ambitious twenty-two-year-old, and being a stepmother wasn’t exactly a part of my short-term plans.
“Can we get some ice cream, Low?” Waverley asked him, staring up into his face.
“After you eat something. You know the rules.” He bent to kiss her face.
The sight before me was the cutest, and sadly, it made him that much more intriguing to me. As I said before, I knew nothing about Low’s background. My brothers constantly said he had people he was taking care of but never gave details as to who those people were. However, I was able to conclude that Waverley was one of them.
“How long you staying out here?” he asked, eyes bouncing around the room behind me.
“Not long. I have a quick practice session with the ladies, and then I can go home. But don’t worry, I have a new detail.” I rolled my eyes.
“What happened to the old one?”
“Stupidly called my father that night and revealed that he couldn’t locate me. I haven’t seen or heard from him since Vegas.”
“Damn.” Low shook his head as we mirrored one another’s morbid smirks.
“Other than that, this is LA. Ain’t nobody gonna bother me. If they do, I have protection and can handle myself.” I winked.
“I believe you.” He stroked his beard. “That nigga was running from you like he was in a horror flick.”
I chuckled, and Low offered up a gentle smile with his fine ass. I wondered why he seemed to be against laughing and smiling, only doing it infrequently, as if it bothered him to allow it. It was also like he felt guilty for enjoying anything.
I’d noticed I’d never seen him dressed up before. He was always in wife beaters, track pants, hoodies, joggers, jeans, and slides or Chucks. I may have seen him in retro Jordans twice. However, he was always clean, smelling amazing, and wearing a few jewelry pieces, including his Patek, that told you he dressed down because he wanted to and not because he had to. Still, he was the sexiest man in the world to me.
“I’ve never seen you pick her up before,” I mentioned, wondering if he only started because he found out I was here. Usually Waverley’s nanny picked her up.
“I been in Vegas basically full time, but now work has . . . moved so no need for a nanny and shit anymore.”
“I’m hungry!” Waverley interjected loudly.
“Okay, we’ll see you next time, Waverley. Make sure you practice on your own this time, too, okay?” I squatted down to speak with her before we embraced.
I mouthed “bye” to Low as I turned to walk back into the class but felt him watching me. Turning some, I lifted a brow and asked, “Why are you watching me like that?”
“You a pretty ass girl, Banks?—”
“Woman. I haven’t been a girl for a long time, Willow.”
“You a pretty ass woman, Banks. Niggas gon’ always be looking.”
I hated the smile that journeyed across my face as he started to help his sister into the car, before climbing in himself.
Ugh.
Snapping myself out of it, I ventured back into the classroom which was now void of anymore junior dancers and full of my classmates.
“Banks knows all the fine niggas,” Jamie said as I sat beside Kailey to start stretching.
“I do not.” I shook my head.
“Your brothers, Trayvon, and now that nigga. Is that another brother?” another dancer named Frankie queried, looking as if she was a dog in front of a well-seasoned porterhouse.
