“A me wife deal with it enuh,” Nathan says. He works here.
“Yuh wifey can cook, man. Mi woulda wah she cook fi me,” Scar grins, nearly done eating.
“Yea man, prepare fi pay wul heap a money if yuh wah she cook fi you,” Nathan jokes.
“That is it!” Pops laughs, and the others follow. He’s eating lobster too.
“If yuh wah good, yuh affi spend money though. Yuh cya mean,” a voice chimes in behind me. I turn and see a woman, with dark-skinned, long burgundy hair, dressed in black.
I glance away, placing my paintball gun with the others.
“A wah happen?” she asks, but I ignore her.
“A eh Killy yuh wah?” Pops teases her, laughing.
“Noooo, a tru him just a look,” she replies, and Pops calls out to me. I turn to see everyone watching.
“See the gyal a try talk to yuh,” he says, laughing. I look at her.
“Weh yaw seh?” I ask.
“Mi did a wonder why yuh a look pan me so,” she says. The crew chuckles. They can tell she’s reaching, just to talk to me.
She wah yuh…
“Look pan yuh how?” I raise my brow.
“You just did a look pan me too hard,” she says, eyeing me top to bottom.
“Eeeh, mi cya look again?” I smirk. She smiles. They all pretend to focus on the food now. Who dem a fool? She leans on the board, still looking up at me.
“Mi neva seh yuh cyaa look. Mi just wah know if yuh like wah yuh see, mek yuh look pan me so hard.”
Hear ya.
I shake my head. They chuckle again but go back to talking about the food. I laugh under my breath.
“None a that man,” I say simply. Her face drops.
Hush.
When I finish talking to her, I start eating, joining the conversation now and then. As soon as I’m done, my phone lights up. It’s a Facetime from Zara.
Mhmm, see who yuh wah hear from deh.
I smile.
I toss the food box in the bin and answer.
“Mami,” I say. She’s at the hairdresser, posing in the camera while someone holds the phone, showing off her hairstyle.
“Hey babe, you like my braids?” she asks, and I smile, nodding. Of course I love her braids. Box braids, reaching her ass with curls. I love everything she wears. I love her. In my eyes, everything about her is perfect.
“See him a smile, him must love it then,” the hairdresser giggles.
I chuckle.
“It look good man, mi love it,” I say, and Zara swings the braids to the side. She’s feeling herself. Must be her favorite, she never act so about the other styles she tried.
