She rounded the table, so that she could come a little closer to me. She smelled so fuckin good, just like she did the times in the past that I’ve been around her. I was taller than her, even in her heels, so once she was close to me, I looked down at her, while she looked up at me.
“When I asked you if you believed in God, it was for a reason. You have somebody in your life that has been praying Heavensgates down for you. Somebody in your life is reallll locked in with God because something stepped in, and it intervened the way that this could have gone. I don’t know if it’s considered luck, an angel, or God just giving you grace, but something stepped in. Detective Bryant doesn’t let murderers get off easily. A man like him chose to let you walk away because he probably just wanted to. Sleep on that. Stay the fuck out of trouble, so that you can be in the picture for you daughter,” she finished, picking the notebook up, and she firmly tapped me on my chest with it.
She got on me in the same manner that all the women in my life had been getting on me, and that’s why I didn’t take anything that she said to me personally. She was coming at me the way she was because she cared. Her words were powerful though, and I didn’t take anything lightly that she’d just put on me. My eyes followed her ass, as she walked out of the office space, and shortly after, I made my way out as well.
I had some free time, so as I was walking, I sent a text to Promise, asking her where she was, so that I could see my daughter. She texted me back quickly, letting me know that she was at her salon, and Romy was with her. Her salon wasn’t that far from me, so I told her that I would be there in about ten minutes.
Me and Promise have been doing much better these days. With my mental fucked up the way it was right now, since shit kept happening back-to-back in my life, I think she was sparing a nigga because she knew that I didn’t need the extra bullshit in my life.
I pulled up to her shop, and her Mercedes was backed into the reserved owner spot. I quickly stepped out, locked the doors behind me, and as I was walking into the salon, one of her clients were walking out. I’m not sure what the hairstyle was called that Promise had given to her, but the weave was down to the clients ass, and it was in nice, bouncy curls. That hairstyle looked goodas fuck on her. She looked me up and down, and I did the same, looking at her ass, as I kept the door opened, so that she could walk out.
Like a typical nigga, I was breaking my neck, keeping my eyes on her ass, loving the way her ass cheeks were spilling out of the little ass shorts that she was wearing.
“It’s real nigga,” she shot at me, making me laugh.
“Shit. I can tell,” I let her know.
Promise was standing inside the shop with a broom in her hand, sweeping up the hair that had fallen to the floor.
“I swear your ass will fuck any, and everything,” she said to me once I walked inside of the shop.
It was a nice, spacious shop that she owned. There was about ten different salon stations because she had stylist that worked here, but right now, Promise was the only one here, working. She was in her salon cape, and everything.
“You say it like the bitch was ugly. She was fine. I’ll fuck for sure. What’s her name?” I wanted to know, taking my eyes off her, so that I could look at the couch area, where Romy was lying on a blanket, with the decorative pillows surrounding her, knocked out cold.
I swear my baby got that sleeping shit from me because one thing about me, I’ll fall asleep anywhere.
“She got five kids. That’s what you want? Don’t let me get in the way. I’ll give you her number, and her social media,” she replied, not giving a damn if I tried to fuck with the bitch that just left.
My baby mama tried to act like she didn’t give a fuck about me, and that she wouldn’t fuck me if I was the last nigga standing. Personally, I felt like all that shit was a front. I could be wrong though.
“Oh nah. You lost me at five kids. What’s good with you though? When your next client coming?” I wanted to know.
“In about twenty minutes. I’m going to be here for a while. My last client comes at 7,” she let me know.
“Aight. Ima take Romy car seat out of your car and just put it in the car with me. Ima take her to see my parents and shit. Just let me know when you get home, and I’ll drop her back off with you. When we going to talk about putting her in daycare? Either that or letting her spend the day with my mama or something. I know you want the break. I know you don’t like having to bring her with you to the shop,” I said.
“I’m not ready for her to go to daycare yet. It’s too soon. She’s not even one yet. Plus, those trifling ass parents will send their kids to daycare knowing their sick, and I don’t want my baby coming home with all that mess. As far as my daughter staying with your mom all day, ummmm…. no,” she said, and I sucked my teeth at that bullshit.
“Ya’ll need to have a sit down, so that ya’ll can hash out whatever bullshit that ya’ll got going on. That’s my mama at the end of the day, and you are my daughter’s mom, so ya’ll gotta be cordial,” I snapped, and she chose to ignore, and not feed into what I said.
She finished sweeping, so she took the broom and dustpan to the back. I was a man that was going to always look at a woman’s ass when she turned around, and Promise had one of the prettiest, fattest asses to me, so of course I looked. She was rocking a pair of skintight, denim jeans that hugged her frame, having me look the entire time that she walked away, up until she came back.
“Since you got twenty minutes, you’ll give me a quick line up? My shit looking crazy. I been wearing this hat for a week now,” I said, once she was back out front.
I removed the hat from my head, so that I could show her that I wasn’t being dramatic, and that I really did need a lineup. Shit, I needed some fresh braids too, but I knew not to ask because her next client would be here soon.
“Come on because that shit is looking crazy,” she replied, going over to her styling chair, where I took a seat.
Promise knew how to line me up. She’s done it before in the past. I sat down, putting the hat in my lap, while she came over, going for her station, and before she started, she stood right in front of me, planting herself in between my legs, so that she could use the small comb that was in her hands, and she combed the hair in the front, where my hairline was. Once she was done with that, she pulled my braids up into a clip, so that she could line up my entire head.
“Where your nigga at?” I asked, just to make small talk with her.
“Who’s my nigga, Rico? I never told you that I had a nigga,” she said, playing dumb, like she didn’t have a clue who I talking about.
She reached behind her, so that she could go inside of her drawer, and she pulled out the neck strip. She cut it where it was long enough for me, and once it was to her liking, she placed it around my neck. Right after, she grabbed a cape, and she put it around me as well.
“So, you fuckin that nigga, he coming to the crib to drop off gifts for you, yet you saying that he ain’t your nigga. Let me guess, he not trying to commit?” I asked, wanting to know.
