Page 22 of The Birthday Girl
“Robbery?” He shook his head, chuckling like she was crazy. “Girl, you sound dumb. It’s just money. You got more where that came from, don’t you?”
She did, but that was none of his business. He wasn’t entitled to anything in her wallet or anything he owned. Tremaine was lucky he had some good dick because without it, he would’ve been thrown out a long time ago. Still, hearing him say it out loud made her stomach turn.
“You’re nothing but a broke-ass, sorry-ass thief,” she spat, pointing the receipt. “You sit in this house all day leechin’ off me, and then you got the nerve to steal? I swear to God, Tremaine, I should—”
Her phone lit up on the counter, cutting off her threat, and from the couch, Tremaine glanced at her sideways.
“Go answer your phone. It’s probably your other nigga. Tell him you ain’t got no money to trick off today,” he taunted, knowing his words would get under her skin.
Mercedes flicked him off. “Fuck you, you sorry sack of shit. You’ll be lucky if you still got toes by the time I’m finished with you. Try wearing them Dunks with no feet, you dusty bitch.”
She stormed back into the kitchen, muttering curses under her breath with the receipt crushed into her palm like a tiny grenade.
“Muthafuckin’ thieving-ass—” The phone vibrated against the counter, dancing in small circles across the granite.
Snatching the device off the counter, Mercedes’ eyes landed on the screen, and she read the name:Private Caller.
Normally, she’d have let it ring because spam calls, bill collectors, and scams came from numbers like that. Broke people didn’t answer private numbers unless they wanted to be reminded of how broke they were, but Mercedes wasn’t broke anymore. Not since the baby shower video paid her.
She smoothed her hair back with one hand, straightened her tank top, and forced her voice to sweeten. “Hello?”
For a few seconds, nothing but silence filled the line, then a voice she’d recognize anywhere slid through the speaker. “Mercedes, this is Tah. I need to holler at you about something. Do you have a moment?” Tahlia asked, sounding less confident and less
Mercedes’ grip on the phone tightened, her chest buzzing with excitement. Tahlia Banks, the posh diva, was gone, and in her place was the dusty little awkward girl she and her friends used to pick on. For a second, Mercedes could almost see her again, skinny legs poking out of hand-me-down jeans, hair never quite laid right, and eyes darting around like she was waiting for somebody to laugh at her.
Mercedes’ lips curled upward as she savored the moment. Tahlia Banks, with all her billions, sounded humbled, voice cracking like it used to when she got nervous. The careful pronunciation and the use of the fancy words she'd practiced to perfection were gone now, replaced by the old cadence they'd both grown up with. My, how the mighty have fallen.
“Yeah,” Mercedes said quickly, her words tumbling out. “I got a moment. What’s up?”
“You’re smarter than the rest of Danielle’s little friends,” Tahlia said, her voice calm but edged like glass. “That’s how I know the video you sold wasn’t everything you have. I want it all.”
Mercedes’ pulse spiked. Her mouth curved into a grin she couldn’t hide, dollar signs flashing in her head. “What’s in it for me?”
“One hundred thousand cash,” Tahlia replied without hesitation. “Tonight.”
Mercedes’ laugh came out nervously greedy at once. “When and where?”
Tahlia gave her an address, and Mercedes saved it in her notes, hands trembling.
“I won’t be able to meet you until around ten. Is that cool?”
“That’s perfect.” Tahlia’s tone was silk, unbothered. “See you then.”
The line clicked dead.
Mercedes spun around, nearly tripping over the coffee table as she grabbed her phone and hit her brother’s number.
“You won’t believe this,” she blurted the second he answered.
“What now?” Tremaine paused his game, eyes narrowing.
“I wasn’t even talking to you,” she snapped, then softened when Jimmy joined the line. “But I’m gonna need both of y’all, so listen up.”
“What’s good, sis?” Jimmy asked. “You sound lit.”
Mercedes paced, words tumbling fast. “That bitch Tahlia just called me—offered a hundred racks for the rest of the videos.”
Jimmy frowned. “Wait. You only had the one from the baby shower, right?”
