“That’s not a no.” She was beaming like I’d just said yes.
I needed to wrap this up. “You got a dessert caterer yet?”
“For the gala? No, actually. We’re still vetting options. Why?”
I pulled out my phone, found Sweet Zin’s Instagram, and showed it to her. “This. Use them.”
Farah scrolled through the page, her eyebrows raising. “Wow, these look incredible. Who is this?”
“Someone I know. They’re good. Really good. And they need the exposure.”
“You trust them?”
“I wouldn’t recommend them if I didn’t.”
She studied me for a moment, something calculating in her expression. “Okay. I trust your excellent judgment. I’ll reach out to them today.”
“Good.”
I stood, ready to leave.
“Wait, that’s it? You’re leaving already?” She looked disappointed.
“I got somewhere to be.”
“Prime—”
“Thanks for the designs, Farah. Send me a quote and we’ll move forward.”
I left before she could protest, stepping out into the cool evening air.
My phone buzzed as I was walking to my car. A text from Vivica.
My house tomorrow 1 PM. Don’t be late.
I stared at the message, my jaw clenching. This was it. The meeting she’d demanded. The one where she’d hold Rashid’s freedom over my head and make me dance like a puppet.
I typed back:Fine.
Her response was immediate:Good. Come alone.
I pocketed my phone and got in my car, heading home. But as I drove, my mind kept circling back to Zahara.
I hadn’t seen her since the farmers market. Hadn’t heard from her except for that one text exchange. And I was tired of waiting.
So instead of going home, I drove to Grits.
The diner was closed, but I knew she’d be there. Knew she snuck in after hours to bake for her business.
I parked around back and tried the kitchen door. Unlocked, like I’d expected.
I slipped inside, moving quietly through the dark kitchen. I could hear music playing softly—some old-school R&B—and smell cinnamon and sugar in the air.
She was at the industrial oven, pulling out a tray of rolls, her back to me. She was humming along to the music, completely unaware.
I leaned against the doorframe, just watching her for a moment. The way she moved. The concentration on her face when she set the tray down and inspected each roll. The small smile when she was satisfied with her work.
Beautiful.
