“This came for you.” She lifted a long, rectangular gift box tied with a sleek black bow and set a matching black gift bag beside it.
I frowned. “That’s weird, I didn’t order anything.”
“A real fine man dropped it off at the start of my shift and told me to make sure I handed it to you personally.”
My heart skipped.Cash.
“Oh, okay—thanks,” I said, trying to play it cool as I scooped up the boxes.
Curiosity and anticipation grew as the elevator climbed to my floor, and by the time I got inside my apartment, I was practically buzzing.
I kicked off my shoes and dropped the packages onto the couch before slipping into yoga shorts and an old T-shirt. Settling cross-legged on the rug, I reached for the gift box first. Tucked in the bow was a small handwritten card:
Be a good girl and wear this for me. –Money
I bit my lip, untied the ribbon, and lifted the lid. My breath hitched as I peeled back the tissue paper to reveal a black leather dress.
“Shit,” I whispered, running my fingers over the buttery material. I loved fashion, but I’d never bought anything this expensive. My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I saw the Versace tag—this was easily a few thousand dollars. The corset-style top and gold hardware screamed high fashion and sex.
“I didn’t even know they made stuff like this in my size,” I muttered, reaching for the gift bag next. My mouth dropped as I pulled out a sleek pair of Tom Ford stilettos.
“Cash, you aren’t playing fair,” I whined, scrambling for my phone.
I FaceTimed the only person who’d understand.
“¡Que lo que!” Amber chirped, her grin lighting up the screen.
“Sis, you busy?” My stomach flipped as I glanced at the time. It was 5:00 p.m.—if I was going to be ready in time, I needed to start now.
“Never too busy for you, bestie.”
Amber and I had been best friends since middle school. She was one of the few people who encouraged me to take the contract in Atlanta. She reminded me that if it sucked, there was no shame in coming back home.
I sighed dramatically, staring at the open box. “Remember that fine ass dude I told you about—the one who got shot a few months ago? Then I ran into him at the club recently?”
“Mmhm.”
“Well, I saw him again today before brunch. He told me we’re going on a date… and I just came home to a leather Versace dress and Tom Ford heels.”
“Bitch?!” Amber shrieked, jumping off her couch.
“I know, girl. Apparently, he’s a real big deal here, but he’s… outside,” I whisper-yelled like I didn’t live alone.
“How outside we talking?”
“Like Marcus.”
She sucked in a breath. “Damn, I haven’t thought about him in a minute. Isn’t he still locked up?”
I threw up my hand. “Who cares?!” I said. “Point is, I’m too old for this right? I already punched a bitch over him, and he crashed a date. Tell me this is a bad idea.”
“Friend, I don’t think it’s that deep,” she chuckled. “You’re not marrying him, Jas. Let him spread his bread on you—clearly, he got it.”
“Everything about him is so intense. He gets under my skin.”
“Have you met you?” she teased. “Y’all sound like a match made in heaven.”
I rolled my eyes because she wasn’t wrong. It’d been a while since I met a man who wasn’t intimidated by my smart mouth.
