“Okay! Come to my place tonight. We can make margaritas and get some carryout.”
“Bet!” I grinned, just as my phone vibrated in my pocket.
Big Daddy Cash: Ready for lunch?
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. I’d completely forgotten he was picking me up.
“What?” Monica asked.
“I forgot Cash was taking me out for lunch,” I said, staring at my phone.
Rain check? I look like crap, and I’m swamped.
Big Daddy Cash: Nobody worried about what you look like. Bring your pretty ass on. I’m outside.
Monica smirked. “He’s outside, ain’t he?”
I huffed out a breath and dragged my hand over my face. “Yep. Why is he like this?”
She shrugged. “Jelani’s the same way. Go. I’ll cover for you if you don’t come back.”
“Why wouldn’t I come back?”
“Maybe he’s gonna drop off some midday dick,” she teased, snatching the files from me. “Bye! Text me when you want to come over.”
I gave her a quick hug, grabbed my stuff from my locker, and headed downstairs.
Cash was leaning against his truck when I came flying through the doors like a bat outta hell.
“Hey,” I greeted, slightly out of breath.
He laughed, looking me up and down. “Damn, you alright?”
I flipped him off as he opened the passenger door. “Where we going?”
“One of my favorite spots,” he said, pulling off.
I hummed in response and looked out the window. I must’ve dozed off, because next thing I knew, he was gently shaking me awake.
“Wake up, Jas,” he said, stifling a laugh. “You, uh… got a little drool on your chin.”
I wiped my mouth, giving him the evil eye. “This is your fault. I wouldn’t be tired if you hadn’t stopped by so late.”
The sun was out, but for once it wasn’t humid—a rare blessing. We walked half a block until we reached Marlene’s, a mom-and-pop soul food spot with a green and white checkered awning over the door. A hand-painted sign in the window gave it that cozy, Southern charm. The second Cash opened the door, the smell of fried chicken and yams hit me.
“Grab us a table—I’ma holla at Ms. Marlene real quick,” Cash said, tapping my ass lightly before swaggering past the line. This man really knew every-damn-body.
The lunch crowd had the place packed, but I spotted an empty table near the middle and sat, watching Cash work his charm. He hugged an older Black woman—clearly Ms. Marlene—and her face lit up as soon as she saw him. The staff knew him, too, dapping him up like he was a long-lost cousin.
He pointed at me from across the room. I gave a little wave, trying not to look awkward. A few minutes later, he came over with two tall cups of sweet tea.
“Ms. Marlene gon’ hook us up,” he said, sliding me a cup.
“You really do know everybody.”
“Her husband, Rodney, used to run with my pops. She used to babysit Jelani and me when we still lived ‘round the way.”
“That’s sweet. Her husband still around?” I asked, tasting my drink. Sweet tea wasn’t my go to, but this one was really good.
