“Fi yuh stress? Mi see how much night yuh up a prep orders wid Gavin, then yuh up again fi write lesson plans. Mi nuh wah yuh burn out. Yuh a mi wife. Mi wah yuh continue live yuh soft life.” Her eyes soften, and she smiles. She knows I’m serious. I already make sure mommy don’t lift a finger again, now it’s Zara’s turn.
“Aww, I know but…”
“If a money yuh think ’bout, stop it. Mi a go get the business sorted..” that tone left no room for debate.
She laughs gently. “You’re so bossy and can’t even help it.”
I smirk. “Mi a mek some calls later.”
“Thanks babe, yuh always a spoil mi.”
“Yuh used to it yet?”
She shakes her head. “All now.”
“Well get used to it,” I tell her.
39
Decision
She’s too young to be playing gatekeeper. Standing outside the security booth with a clipboard and false confidence, like she don’t see the man she’s talking to. Probably fresh on the job. Her eyes flick to my car, then to me. I see the hesitation, but she steps forward anyway. Brave, or probably stupid. Either way, I’m not in the mood. “He’s not here, sir, but you can come back lat—”
I cut her off with a glare. How she mean him nuh deh yah?
“Call him.” She stiffens. Eyes wide like she just realize who she’s dealing with. I step out of the car. Calm. Silent. Deadly. She fumbles for the phone.
I lift a brow. “Mi seh fi call him.” Repeating myself? I hate it. You have ears, use them.
“He’s in a meeting,” she stammers. “He didn’t say he was expecting anyone.” She don’t even believe herself. Man like me, to how mi lie, sometimes me believe them.
“What are you here for, Jacobs?” she breathes. I stare at her. Clearly yuh see mi name. Wah more yuh wah?
“Man yah look?” I ask her. Her lips part, she’s speechless. I’m not here to explain myself. My uncle called me fifteen minutes ago. That’s all the confirmation I need. “And yuh nuh just say him nuh deh ya?” I ask, then suck my teeth. I glance at my skeleton AP. Five minutes wasted already. Without a word, I reach through the booth window and press the gate button myself.
She gasps. “I can call the police!” The gate pulls. I look her dead in the eye.
“Then do that,” I get back in my Benz, drive through the gate, park and head for the elevator.
I hear a voice behind me. “Sir—” I turn. I don’t know her. She’s jogging toward the elevator. I hold the door. “Thanks,” she says as she steps in, smiling. I stay quiet.
Her eyes flick to my wrist. “Ouu, is that a Royal Oak AP?” I glance at her. Surprisingly, she doesn’t give off gold digger. She moves like a rich man’s daughter—too friendly, probably raised with manners. Even toward devils like me.
I flex my wrist slightly. “It is.”
She lights up. “I asked my dad to get me one for my birthday.”
I nod, eyes forward. Okay, I want to say—but no need to sound rude. Even if I mean it. “Is it heavy?” she asks.
“Yah, but manageable.” She goes quiet, admiring it.
“My dad got me a Rolex last Christmas. And new Cubans.” She grins. She’s smiling way too much. My phone rings, saving me from the small talk. Uncle Orion. Perfect timing.
“Yow,” I answer.
“Where you at, son?”
“Yuh security nuh report mi yet?” I ask, already thinking back to that headache at the gate.
