Page 85 of False Start
“She keeps it in the freezer.”
“Who is she?” he asks as he heads for the freezer and plucks a bottle of tequila from it.
“My sister, Zina.”
He locates two shot glasses in Zina’s kitchen and pours us a drink. And then he walks it over to me and hands me the glass seconds before he clinks his own against the side of mine. “Leslie.”
“Zhanna.”
“Pleasure, Suga. Now, talk to Uncle Leslie. What are your plans? We need plans if you’re going to move past this.”
I shrug again. “It’s only been two weeks.”
Leslie takes my glass and places it beside his on the counter near the tequila bottle. “Nuh-uh. Universal breakup rules say you get a week for relationships lasting less than a year and two weeks for anything more. Then it’s time to reinvent yourself and say ‘fuck that motherfucker’.” He places his hands back on his hips. “Now, let me hear you say it.”
“Fuck that motherfucker,” I muster.
His right brow nearly hits his hairline. “It just won’t do. Give me more moxie than that. The motherfucker cheated on you in your own house. So. Let. Me. Hear. You. Say. It.”
“Fuck that motherfucker!” I growl.
He shakes his head, clearly not impressed with my level of anger. His index finger is in the air signaling for me to hold for a moment. “We need more tequila. What’s your tolerance like?”
“I’m a cheap date,” I admit.
“Wonderful. Drink up.”
We take two shots this time, warming my cheeks a few moments later. I feel a little better, a little number, and even a slight inclination to smile. Leslie takes me by the hand and asks me to lead him to my guest room where he tells me to get into the shower. He could be a serial killer for all I know, prepping my body for torture and dismemberment, but I get in the shower and clean myself.
When I emerge with a robe around me, Leslie is looking through what appears to be all of my clothing in the closet and drawers.
“At least you have style,” he says.
“Thank you?”
He throws a pair of dark wash jeans at me, then a black tank top, and finally a mustard cardigan. I turn around for the bathroom to change and talk to him through the door as I do.
“It’s nice you have a sister to take you in. Will you stay here?”
I love Zina, but we both like having our own spaces. “No, I’ll look for a place in the Quarter.”
“I know of a place.”
“You do?”
After I dress, Leslie blows my hair dry, curls it, and uses my makeup to do things to my face that should be illegal. I look amazing when he’s done. He’s somehow hidden the dark circles under my eyes. “You clean up nice, Suga.”
“There’s a townhouse next to me for sale. Are you in the buyer’s market?”
“Yes.”
“I must warn you, the place needs a little TLC, but it has good bones and nice residents.”
“I can do TLC.”
He grins from ear to ear, quite pleased with his work on me. “Girl, you need to get laid and a good project to focus on.”
Getting laid isn’t high on my priorities at the moment, but a project seems promising. I send Zina a text message with Leslie’s vehicle registration number as I leave her apartment with a perfect stranger and head for the Quarter.
