"Yeah, just like Kairo Chalvez, he got popped out in Jersey about a year ago. They set up a deal with him to become a government witness, and he's cracked more cases than Matlock,just scheming around the hood and blending in. An undetectable rat is way more useful than a known one for sure." He leaned forward. "That stays between me and you, though. You know the topic of Government witnesses isn't for casual conversation."
I was stunned, but I wasn't about to show it. I stepped up close to him, chin high.
"As I said, I don't have any information for you, Marcus. Now, can you please leave? I have work to do."
He smirked, walking to the door. "You got it, baby girl. But before I go, no sex?"
"Zero," I said, walking over to the door and opening it wide for him to have no trouble leaving.
"Buh-bye."
He laughed, brushed past me, and disappeared down the hall, and I locked the door behind him, exhaling deeply.
Before I could even call the front desk to tell them not to ever let Marcus up again, my phone chimed in my hand.
Crew:Keep the sweater, Ms. Lawyer. It looks better on you anyway.
I stared at the screen, smiling before I even realized it. Then it hit me, I was deep in some shit I didn't even see coming. Of course, I know who Crew is, but I can't tell Marcus any of it because we now have a bond stronger than anything Marcus and I ever had. Unless Morality hits me hard one day, I know I have to keep my mouth closed about everything I know about Crew. If he builds a case on him, it definitely won’t be with my help.
Chapter 9
Pernelle
A week later
I don’t know why I lied to Crew about being on pelvic rest, because I was struggling thinking about his sexy ass and the way he fucked me when we made this baby. I guess my reasoning was that I didn’t want Crew coming around or being in my daughter’s life just because he wanted to have a sexual relationship with me. I wanted him to be here because he wanted to be a dad, not because my cooch is good.
I was sitting on the bench outside, uncomfortable in this tight-ass yellow dress that Emoney’s sister Brenda was adamant I wear to this baby shower. The Bronx winter air had that cold bite to it, slipping through the dress like it was personal. I am just ready for this shit to be over with so that I can go back home and be comfortable in my bed. Every five seconds, I’m wincing in pain and rubbing my stomach because this little girl was so damn feisty, and she kicked like crazy.
Crew had given me orders not to have this shower, but he didn’t understand the predicament I was in. Plus, what is the shower going to hurt? It’s gifts, free food, and potential babysitters if I ever need them. At the end of the day, they wereprepared to step up in more ways than I felt like Crew would. He talks a good game, but actions always speak louder than words and so far, all he has given me is words. That and a DNA test.
Emoney’s mama, Ms. Erika, picked me up in her Nissan Altima, dressed in a baby shower shirt that said “Glamma” across the front. The car smelled of meatballs, her famous chicken wings Emoney always requested, and a pan of ribs, with a strict “one each” rule in place before the event even started.
We rolled all the way to MJ Catering Hall in the Bronx, and from the outside, I could already tell that Emoney’s family went all out. Yellow balloons tangled around the railing, SpongeBob and Patrick cutouts posted at the door like security, and island music floating out every time someone opened the door.
Once I got out and wobbled up to the door, I was met with hugs, cameras flashing, and cheering from dozens of people who had already made it there before me. My mom and Princeton were among the crowd, and Princeton looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here.
“Damn, Chicken head, glad you finally made it. They been holding on to the tuna salad sandwiches like them bitches just for you. A nigga fucking hungry.”
My mama slapped him on the back of his head.
“Shut up, boy. You can wait.” She turned her attention to me.
“Hey P. You look beautiful.”
“Thanks, mama. It’s so nice in here. They went all out.”
“Yes, they did. They are ready!” My mama made a corny SpongeBob reference that humored her more than me.
I glanced around the room, and there were SpongeBob cutouts on every table, charger plates with baby-bottle napkinsnext to them, and balloon garlands twisted up in yellow, blue, and pink to match the theme. Front and center was a large backdrop that read “Nine Months Later” in gold lettering. I wouldn’t have picked this theme myself, but it was cute, and they wanted it simply because SpongeBob was one of Emoney’s favorite shows.
The whole room smelled like barbecue sauce, perfume, and baby powder, and the music bumped low under the chatter which was now a mix of old-school jams and R&B slow cuts.
For the first time, I actually felt bad about what I was doing. They were so excited about this baby, but I guess at the same time, I needed to remind myself that I’m healing them with this baby, too. Without Emoney here they still feel they have a part of her coming back.
There was a special seat waiting for me at the front of the shower in a big white king-sized chair with gold trim, right under the balloon arch. Once I sat down, the shower seemed to fill up quickly, and I took so many pictures, my cheeks started to hurt. I, however, had to cut the pics short because I was starving, and neither me nor baby girl liked to wait to eat.
Of course, I didn’t have to move to get my own plate. They brought me everything I wanted, and within fifteen minutes my dress had stains from wings, mac and cheese, and the three ribs that Ms. Erika swore she wasn’t letting anybody get seconds of, but I was the exception for that.
