Page 109 of Treason's Temptation
“You’re welcome,” she dipped her chin, shying from my praise.
“You didtoogood. Now I gotta’ make you the First Lady.”
“One day at a time. You promised,” she laughed, climbing to her feet.
“That was before you fell in love. We might need to renegotiate those terms.”
“You need to shower and get dressed.Stinkhas a busy day.”
Blue ran a tight ship, but I liked it. She cared about all the shit nobody else did, other than Inez and Evelyn. Blue reminded me of their unconditional love in so many ways. It was the subtle way she watched me get dressed, assessing every detail to make sure it fit. She was so engrossed that she wasn’t dressed herself.
My palms rested on the island, catching SportsCenter, until Fallon stepped off the elevator, worry creasing the lines on her face.
“Relax, damn. The hard part is done. We’re celebrating today,” I replied, with a wry smile.
“Where’s Navie?”
“Getting dressed.”
“We have a problem.”
Fallon handed me her phone, showing an old picture of young Sloane, ironically dressed as a Playboy bunny, clinging to a much younger version of tech mogul Vincent Hanesly.
“Shit, if her mama looked like this, I might keep her around for real.”
Sloane’s oval face and high, elegant cheekbones gave her a sculpted look. Her large, almond-brown eyes carried depth and warmth, which she passed down to Navie. She did give her full, well-defined lips, which made it easy to finesse nigga’s who weren’t hip.
“How do you do that?” Fallon asked, snatching it back.
“What?”
“Not fuckin’ worry when you’re standing in the middle of a fire.”
“I knew what I signed up for, and I’m ready for whatever. I thought yo’ ass was too. Wassup with you?” I asked, concerned about my friend more than my coworker.
Fallon wasn’t like most women. Shit, she was a lot more like Navie than she thought. Stoic, poised in crisis, but lately it seemed she was standing on the ledge of a building only she could see.
“You’re losing your mind and asking what’s up with me. Every high-profile man in the city is on pins and needles right now. This puts a target on your back, and for what?”
On cue, Navie’s heels clicked down the hallway
“What is her problem today?”
“Nothing. Let’s ride.”
The three of us took the elevator downstairs to the truck. That photo had Fallon on edge, and now she was reiterating shit I already knew. Most of it was my updated calendar since shit had been moved around from the storm. I should’ve been focused on Fallon’s voice, but knowing she’d email a copy allowed me to enjoy my guilty pleasure.
Blue scrolled her phone, trying to keep her legs crossed, but her ankle slipped off her meaty thigh. It would’ve stayed put if she hadn’t changed positions every three minutes. I timed her movements like contractions before draping her legs across my lap.
A gesture that silenced the ride as Fallon stared with hiked brows and curiosity.
“You didn’t jump this time. That’s progress,” Fallon noted, “Keep it up once the cameras are rolling.”
“According to Social Media, we’re doing a great job.”
Navie read aloud various comments.
So we’re not gonna talk about how fast he popped out, though?
