“This ain’t about proving a point,” I told her, unbuckling Brixxi from the backseat and lifting her into her dog stroller. “It’s about figuring out if I’m ready for… whatever this is.”
“You can’t find that out being a scaredy cat,” she said. “You need to let him know you have questions.”
“You are so childish.” I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “And how exactly am I supposed to do that? Chase him down?”
“Not chase him down, but speak the hell up. You talk to everybody else like you pay their phone bill. Talk to him.”
“I don’t have his number.”
“Halo…”
“What?” I asked, even though I already knew where she was going.
“You know somebody who does have it. Call MiMi. Her ole, drunk-in-love ass will happily play matchmaker.”
I paused. I could call MiMi. She’d give me that number in three seconds and hype me the whole time.
“I’ll think about it after I shop and get my mind right,” I told her.
“And I’ll be getting my ass rubbed down on this date later, so don’t call me for backup tonight. I got waxed for this.”
“I know that’s right.” I grinned. “And wait one damn minute, who are you going out with? You’ve been keeping secrets and shit, I see.”
“That’s my business for now. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”
I rolled my eyes, because this wasn’t Tessa. If she had a date, she would never hesitate to let me know. She was up to something.
“Well, at least tell me where you met this person. Let me live through you.”
“Again, my business. Worry about getting DaVinci between them legs of yours, not me.”
“Wow, that’s how we doing it, bestie? I hope the night gives what it needs to give, but this friendship is over with secrets and shit.”
“Hoe, please.” Her laughter filled my car. “One day, you gon’ talk to yourself the way you pep-talk everybody else. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Brixxi settled into her stroller like the princess she was, and I headed toward the entrance of the mall. The Le Creuset store was having a post-Christmas sale, and I had every intention of buying something heavy, expensive, and permanent. I was about to tear this mall down.
The mall was packed with shoppers looking for deals just like me. New Year’s was in a few days. I’d considered going out, but I’d decided to take a shift instead. No party, no sequins, just the station and my crew. I was okay with that. Or at least that was the story I was sticking to. I stopped at Victoria’s Secret, Bath & Body Works, and a few shoe stores before making my way into Le Creuset. Before my grandmother passed a few years ago, she’d handed down her Le Creuset Dutch Oven to me, and now I wanted to invest in my own set. I enjoyed cooking, even though I didn’t do much of it. It was something I planned to get back to.
I was debating between the flame and the fig when I heard a soft voice beside me.
“That orange is so gorgeous.”
I turned to find a beautiful Black woman holding up the same Dutch oven I’d been eyeing. She was dressed straight out of a magazine; it was effortless. Her shortcut fit her face perfectly. But it was her eyes I recognized.
“I’m biased,” I said. “I’m a firefighter. Anything flame-related speaks to me.”
Her face lit up, and she stepped closer.
“Wait. You’re Halo.”
A quick drop of recognition hit me when she spoke. I studied her again, sharper this time, trying to place her, but nothing clicked. Silverrun wasn’t super big, so it was possible she knew me, even if I didn’t know her.
“I… yeah. That’s me. Do we know each other?”
“Oh my God.” She grinned, setting down the Dutch oven to pull out her phone. “I thought that was you. You’re the one who put their hands on DaVinci Bryns at that fire scene. Girlllllaaaa.” She shook her head, replaying it.
