“I mean it. We both prefer it that way.”
“I believe you.” She put Zaria down. “I’m just saying, Julian doesn’t usually have friends. He has family, employees, and people he keeps at arm’s length. So even friendship is... new for him.”
I relaxed slightly. That I could handle. “Well, maybe it’s good for him. For us both. Building a friendship.”
“Maybe.” She studied me. “Just know that when Julian is taking care of things, it’s not about thinking you’re incapable. It’s just how he’swired. Anyway. I’m glad you’re friends. He needs that. Someone who isn’t family, isn’t work. Just... someone.”
“Even if I yell at him for overstepping?”
She laughed. “Especially then. Nobody else does. We’re all too grateful to call him out.”
14/
paid in full
THIS CHAPTER HAS A SOUNDTRACK
Ain’t No Half-Steppinby Big Daddy Kane| Mama Said Knock You Outby LL Cool J| Around The Way Girlby LL Cool J |Gimme Some Moreby Busta Rhymes |Break Ya Neckby Busta Rhymes |Touch Itby Busta Rhymes |I Seen A Man Dieby Scarface |Paid In Fullby Eric B. & Rakim
julian
The morning startedlike any other Friday, except for the steady stream of interruptions that reminded me why I preferred to work from home on this day.
My family had learned a long time ago how to handle my birthday. In and out, quick, no fuss. Tre dropped a wrapped box on my desk after lunch: neon green running socks with reflective strips. “For visibility, old man. Can’t have you getting clipped on your pre-dawn jogs.”
I threw them at his head and he ducked, laughing. Zion gave me a slap on the back and a bottle of good whiskey. Simone gave me a hug and a card.
That was how I preferred it. Acknowledgment, not celebration. They’d figured out years ago exactly how much fuss I’d tolerate and kept to it.
Birthdays had been productions once. My mother made them big deals with themed cakes, singing, and presents that proved she’d been watching who you were turning into. Then she was gone, and I’d turned twenty in a house in mourning and not one person said a word. The truth was, I was relieved. I didn’t want a candle to blow out and a wish I couldn’t make. The day stopped meaning anything, and I let it, because the alternative was feeling the size of what was missing from it.
Around eleven, my phone rang with Alyssa’s name on the screen.
I answered, “Hi, Alyssa.”
“Happy birthday to you...” Her voice came through the speakerimmediately, warm and melodic, launching into the Stevie Wonder version without warning, with runs and embellishments that required actual vocal skill.
I sat back in my chair, caught completely off guard. People didn’t just sing to me. Not unless it was business-related and they were trying to get a record deal or something, but even that was more Zion’s lane.
“Happy birthday to you... happy birthday...”
She was good. Really good. The kind of voice that could make you stop what you were doing and just listen. I found myself doing exactly that, phone pressed to my ear, work forgotten, as she serenaded me through the phone.
She finished, then shifted to her normal speaking voice. “So, what are your big birthday plans?”
I cleared my throat, still processing what had just happened. “Working. Just another day.”
“Hmm. Well, how about you come by after work, since you don’t have plans.”
“Maybe. I’ll think about it. Might have to work late.”
She was silent for a moment. “I’ll check back in with you later.”
By early afternoon I had received all the obligatory texts and messages I was used to. So I wasn’t expecting much when Alyssa’s text came through a little before four.
ALYSSA
It’s illegal to work late on your birthday so I’m certain you will be clocking out by five?
