She had. Even though Jackson was never hers to keep, his departure left a hole so wide, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to fill it.
“You know how much I hate to say these words, Boss. But Brooklyn is right. You’re one of those whistle-while-you-work kind of people. But lately, you ain’t doing so much whistling.”
“No baking or cooking either,” Brooklyn added. “I mean, I love grits as much as the next person. By the way, when is Aunt Jo coming back? If you won’t feed us, Lord knows she will.”
For the first time in what seemed liked forever, Aja smiled. “She’ll be back this weekend, and I’ll happily relinquish my duties as your personal chef.”
Brooklyn’s face lit up at Aja’s news. “Good, and maybe some of her sweet bread will take your mind off missing your foreman so much.”
Aja opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“Holy shit.” Seneca’s shocked whisper brought Aja back to her senses. “She was kidding. But you really do miss the foreman, don’t you?”
Panicked, like an animal pressed into a corner, Aja looked for an exit out of this conversation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She picked up her mostly full bowl of grits and headed to the trash. If her aunt Jo were here, she’d be chastising Aja about her eyes being bigger than her belly and not wasting the food the good Lord blessed them with.
Her desire to not be wasteful notwithstanding, Aja’s appetite was nonexistent. She scraped the bowl clean and headed for the sink, taking more time than necessary to rinse the dish out and place it in the dishwasher.
When she turned around, both Brooklyn and Seneca were standing at the opposite end of the counter, staring at her with accusing eyes.
“What’s going on, Aja?”
Four years of college, three years of law school, and over thirteen years of arguing for her clients in legal matters, and the most sophisticated answer Aja could come up with was, “Huh?”
Her response sounded unconvincing to her too.
“If you can ‘huh,’ you can hear,” Brooklyn said as she narrowed her lids into slits and folded her arms. A quick glance at Seneca standing by Brooklyn’s side with arms folded, smiling at her well-timed verbal jab, was the nail in Aja’s proverbial coffin. She was busted, and since Jackson had somehow screwed up her mental-verbal mojo, she couldn’t think up a reasonable explanation fast enough to get them off her back.
“Jackson and I—”
“Totally smashed,” Brooklyn interjected. She held out her hand, palm side up in front of Seneca. “Give me my money.”
Seneca huffed, making an exaggerated show of reaching into her pocket and slapping what looked to be a twenty-dollar bill into Brooklyn’s hand.
“Wait, you two bet on whether Jackson and I had sex?”
“Girl, please,” Brooklyn countered. “That man was walking around here looking like a whole snack; you’d be crazy not to holler. Not to mention, as fine as that man is, and as dry as your social life has been, we’ve been praying and lighting candles that you would get a taste.”
Aja pointed at both women. “And that is the end of this conversation.”
“Ah, don’t be that way, Boss.”
Aja held up a pointed finger. “First of all, my sex life is none of your business. Second, I am not some wilting flower that needs a man in her life to blossom.”
Seneca held up her hands in surrender. “No one’s saying youneeda man, Aja. You work so hard trying to get this place up and running, plus all the crap you’ve had to deal with while trying to protect us, so we wanted you to have a little fun. And I don’t care what you say—climbing that brick wall of a man had to be fun as hell.”
Aja tried to keep her annoyed face in place, but as usual, Seneca’s colorful expressions had her smiling and shaking her head. “No comment.”
Seneca playfully stomped her foot. “Ah, come on. I need details. Let me live vicariously through you.”
Aja ignored her plea by taking another sip from her cup. “If you’re so in need of that kind of entertainment, either let your fingers do the walking on the internet, or spend more time trying to find someone to have that kind of fun with.”
“Ah, hello, this is Fresh Springs, Texas. There are no eligible bachelors here. Otherwise, I’d totally find someone to work the kinks out.”
Aja shook her head. “I don’t need that image in my head. How about we never have this conversation again, and you two can do what I pay you to do, instead of minding my business like it’s your job?”
“Or,” Seneca added, “we could continue to analyze your mood and figure out what’s really been going on around here. I mean, I’m sure we could mow our own grass, but going away for over a week to an auction seems a bit much. Are Jackson and his men really at auction, or did you send them packing because things got too heavy between you and the foreman?”
She swallowed. It was an easy out, and she wasn’t stupid enough to let it go. She’d already lost Jackson. No sense in losing her friends, nor her family, over a truth they need never know.
