“Well…goodmorning,” she smiled. “Who isthis?”
Rena adjusted her small breasts and straightened her back. She was always on the prowl. The way she saw it, her husband was still out there somewhere and she was determined to find him.
Zaire dipped his head politely. “Zaire.”
“Hmmm…nice name.” Rena dragged her gaze over him. “Nice everything.” She licked her lips.
Just from looking at him, she could tell he was one of Ray’s rich and famous golf buddies who swept in from time to time and left even faster.
Meadow slammed the spatula on the counter. “Rena!”
“What? I’m greeting our company,” she said sweetly, stepping closer. “You need anything, baby? Water? Juice? A lil’ tour of the house? Foot rub?”
Zaire smirked not in a thirsty way, just naturally charming. “I’m good, baby. Appreciate it though.”
“Oh, you’re welcome to anything you need,” Rena flirted, biting her lip dramatically.
Meadow narrowed her eyes. “Girl, can you go check on my mama instead of flirting with my guest?”
“I can multitask, Meadow,” Rena fanned her away, never breaking eye contact with Zaire.
“And I can fire you.”
Rena blinked. “Damn…okay.” She finally moved toward the hall, but not before giving Zaire one last obvious once-over. “Bye, Zaire.”
“Bye,” he saluted with a little nod, entertained.
When she disappeared, Meadow turned slowly, hand on her hip. “The hell you smiling for?”
“I ain’t say shit…just being nice,” he chuckled.
“You didn’t have to.” Meadow handed him a plate. “Sit down or get out.”
Zaire grinned, taking the plate. “She was bein’ nice. You ain’t have to threaten her job.”
Meadow rolled her eyes. “Rena don’t get nice with nobody but a man. She was tryna slide in your lap.”
Zaire laughed again, shaking his head. “You jealous, baby? Maybe you should take a page out her book and be nice to a nigga.”
Meadow pointed a fork at him. “Just eat your food before I throw you out.”
Zaire did what he was told.
He took a bite of grits, nodding in approval. “Aight, chef. I see why you bossin’ me around. This shit fire, cuh.”
“Thank you,” she muttered, failing miserably at hiding her smile.
Zaire leaned back in the chair, eyes locked on her. “You somethin’ else, Meadow.”
“And you showing too many teeth in my kitchen.” Her face warmed when she said it.
Zaire dipped his head, smirking. “Uh-huh. You like it.”
She did.
And hated that he knew.
Zaire was halfway through his grits when Ray came in, wiping sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.
