“Yes?” she says as she walks up.
“My friend’s sandwich came out cold. Can you bring her another one?”
“Oh. Um. Well it has cold ingredients on it. See, there’s lettuce, aioli, cheese. That stuff is cold.”
I stare at her, unblinking and unimpressed.
“But yeah, I can bring out a hot piece of catfish to put on it. Would that be fine?”
I look at Tiffany. She nods.
“Great. Be right back!”
I would have made her bring a whole new sandwich, but different strokes.
“So do you guys argue?”
“Of course,” I say. “But it never lasts long. We get over shit pretty fast, actually. Ace is mature like that. He’s the type to sit me down and be like, I don’t wanna walk around not speaking to you. Let’s work this out.”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about," Katrina says. "The niggas I mess with, they can’t communicate for shit.”
“Do better. That’s it and that’s all. You get to decide who has access to you. Why are you giving them access if they aren’t doing what you want?”
They both make surprised Pikachu faces like this is groundbreaking information instead of common fucking sense.
"I'm so glad Bron put us together," Tiff says like he set us up on a date. "We were laughing about you the other night."
"Laughing at what?"
"I was telling him I like how you seem like you don't take no shit. And he agreed and told me what you said on the porch."
I lift a shoulder. "Had to be done."
They both laugh.
"Yeah, Bron said he can't wait to see how you handle that lady at his job.”
"Whose job?"
"Ace!"
I stop mid-chew, my food sitting like rocks in my mouth. But I recover fast, quickly realizing she doesn’t know any details. It’s pointless to dig into this with her and risk exposing a weakness in my marriage. So I just nod and finish chewing this last bite of po’ boy, which is completely tasteless at this point.
After lunch, there’s really nowhere for me to go but straight to the site.
That lady at his job.
That lady?At his fuckingjob?
This is partly my fault.
I dropped the ball.
Right after we got married, I did my research on every bitch at the site. There were only three, so it was easy work. Jennifer, the on-site office manager; Fernanda, the accountant who only visits once or twice a week; and Nia, the payroll administrator. She also only spends a few days a month at the site.
So this new bitch, this mystery woman, is a fucking problem.
And so is my husband.
