“Pull out your phone and do the math,” she said.
Ed, stunned by the way she was speaking to the boss, glanced at her again. But William found her fascinating. He gladly pulled out his phone and went to the calculator. “Okay, what do you want me to calculate?”
“A big city with three million people and four-hundred-and-twenty homicides per year, versus a small town with four thousand people and five homicides per year. Which one has the higher murder rate percentage-wise?” she asked him.
William wasn’t about to rely on his own math skills to answer a question that complex. He, instead, relied on Google to do the math for him. He typed in her request. “Ah.” He was surprised by the answer. “The small town has a higher murder rate.”
“I told you!” She was smiling.
Which made him smile. “Okay okay. I get your point. You put more people here, you get more crime.”
“Exactly,” said Joy. “I get so tired of these white folks getting on TV talking about we don’t have crime in our townlike those big cities. You also don’t have people in your town like those big cities. But put the people there,” she said, and he laughed.
Then he looked at her as the Mercedes stopped. And she looked at him. “Thank you. I’ll send you some gas money when I get back to work.”
This girl, William thought. He truly liked this girl. “No need to pay me back,” he said. But speaking of work, he wanted to talk to her about the reason she came to Chicago in the first place. But he knew his office building had trauma attached to it in her eyes now. He had to tread lightly. “Mind if I use your restroom?”
“Sure you can! I’m sorry.” She was about to get out, but he was still holding her hand. Which she found so endearing. She looked at him again when he wasn’t releasing it. She was amazed at how nice he seemed.
William’s bodyguard got out and opened the door on William’s side. Which made William finally release her hand and step out. Then he reached out his hand to help her out.
But just as he did, Juanita Lacey and a man Joy didn’t recognize came walking down the stairs of the apartment building. When Juanita saw Joy, she hesitated. “Hey.”
“What are you doing here?” Joy asked her.
“I was . . . visiting a friend.”
Joy glanced at that man. More like visiting a client, she thought.
But Juanita was too busy eyeing William. Which only made Joy despise her more. “Where’s Blue?” Joy asked her.
Juanita gave her a snarling look. “Don’t you worry about Blue.” Then she glanced at William again. “Worry about yourself.”
Then she and her male “client” left.
Joy shook her head in disgust and headed for the stairs.
“Who was that?” William asked she as they, and his bodyguard, began climbing the stairs.
“My mother,” Joy said as if it was no big deal at all.
William looked back at the beautiful black lady, and he could see a resemblance, but he dared not pursue that at all.
They made their way in silence up the six flights of stairs to Joy’s apartment.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
By the time they climbed those stairs to the sixth floor, William was so winded he had to lean forward, hands on his knees, to catch his breath. “Whoa,” he said.
“Oh I’m sorry,” said Joy.
He looked at up at her. “What? Don’t tell me you have an elevator in this building?”
“No sir.”
William frowned. “Then what are you sorry about?”
“I’m sorry you had to walk up so many flights of stairs just to pee.”
