“I got you, handsome,” Lola said. She was eager to serve him, and as bad as Sloan wanted to hate, she couldn’t. She would serve that nigga, too, if she was Lola. Lola walked into the kitchen and Sloan surveyed her from head to toe. She was a stunning girl. Titties sitting. Her body was young and tight. She had the naïveté of a girl exactly her age. She was young and dumb, and Sloan’s old ass felt ancient next to her.
“I’m making drinks. Would you like anything?” Lola asked.
Lawd, why she got to be nice, Sloan thought. She gave Lola a fake smile.
“No, I’m good with my wine, thanks.”
She watched as Lola poured Cassidy’s drink, and when she was done, Sloan said,“I think he likes it with a little Coke. Shy usually keeps a case in the garage.“You want me to go grab one?”
“Oh, no, you’re a guest. I got it. Thanks,” Lola said. Sloan waited until Lola was out of sight before she took Cassidy’s drink to the pantry and grabbed the vinegar she had seen inside. She added it to his drink and returned it to the countertop before returning to her own drink. Since he wanted to be sweet to this young-ass girl, she was going to spoil all that shit. She didn’t even know why she was hating. She just was, and she was unapologetic about it.
She set his drink back where Lola had left it and scrolled inconspicuously through her phone as Lola pranced back into the room.
Lola carried a case of Coca-Cola with her, and she finished mixing the drink before proudly carrying it back to Cassidy.
“Here you go,” Lola delivered proudly. She sat next to Cassidy and handed him the drink. His attraction was in his body language. He paid attention to this girl when she spoke. It was surface level, she could tell. Men were visual creatures, and Lola gave a good fucking aesthetic, but it still turned Sloan’s stomach. She couldn’t hear the conversation taking place, but the hand he placed on Lola’s knee burned her. When Cassidy reached for the spiked drink, she felt a bit of triumph. She expected him to have a huge reaction, but he was so fucking cool that when he sipped the tainted drink, he didn’t even react. She watched him take a tattooed hand to his beard as his brow dipped in confusion. He picked up his phone and held up a finger for her, indicating that he had a sudden call, and then he stepped out on the back patio. Sloan put one manicured hand over her mouth to contain her amusement, but she couldn’t stop her laughter. She was so fucking tickled. It was like she was laughing at an inside joke.
“Bitch, what the fuck you over there giggling at?” Shy asked.
“Nothing,” Sloan answered, holding up her hand to wave them off. But she was so damn amused as she glanced outside and watched him pour the drink into the snow. She hollered, holding her stomach as tears came to her eyes.
“What is so funny?” Ellie asked.
Sloan excused herself to the bathroom and enjoyed her practical joke. She dabbed at her eyes as her laughter subsided, fixing her makeup, and reapplying her lipstick. She admired herself. Forty really was the new 20. Sloan kept her body up, nourished her skin and hair, stayed prayed up and stress free. She accepted her imperfections and loved every inch of herself. Body and mind. She was beautiful, yet she was still alone. Young girls like Lola had the right sentiments. They hooked‘emearly, secured a bag, and rotated these niggas at their convenience. Sloan had chased accomplishments, not men, and now she had a bunch of trophies and no dick, no badass kids. It looked like freedom. It masqueraded as peace, but it was a mental jail cell that made her feel like she would never find the one her heart belonged to.
She dabbed at the corners of her eyes, and then re-emerged from the bathroom and was surprised when Cassidy blocked her path. He backed her into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. She burst into laughter at the sight of his annoyance.
“That’s cold, man,” he said. She was expecting anger, but when he leaned into her and laughed too, she had to cover her mouth to stop from making too much noise.“That’s fucked up,yo.”
“It was just vinegar. It’s notgon’kill you,” she said, amused.“Shouldn’t have been being friendly.” She shrugged unapologetically.“She’s like five years old, anyway, nigga.”
“You want me to be rude to the girl?” Cassidy asked.
“Absolutely. That’sthe expectation,” she said stubbornly, mugging him and gritting her teeth in irritation.
“She’s not who I’m focused on,” he replied.“But a nigga out of his depths, Dr. Martin.”
“You didn’t even speak to me when I got here,” she scoffed.
“You didn’t use the number, Sloan. I’m trying to read the room. I know my past makes you uncomfortable,” Cassidy admitted.“You’re a fucking doctor.”
“So that means you don’t speak?” she questioned.“You acted like you didn’t even see me.”
“I saw you,” he shot back.“You’re art, Sloan. How could I not see you?” The compliment made her feel so good. Her entire body warmed.
“Where you even learn how to game women so well? You been in jail a hundred years, negro,” she fussed, feeling flustered and upset all at the same time.“I’m surprised you could see anything with that young-ass girl in your face,” she demanded.“Stop flirting before I punch that bitch.”
“Wow. That’sdiabolical,” he stated, laughing.
“I’m old enough to be that girl’s mom,” she whispered.“Stop making me jealous of fucking college co-eds.”
“She’s 25, Sloan, youain’t that old,” he said.
“If I was fast like Courtney’s ass, she could be my daughter,” Sloan fussed.
“I don’t mean to change the subject, but have you spoken to your girl?” Cassidy asked.
“Who? Court?” she asked. It was an odd question coming from Cassidy.
