“That li’l nigga ’bout to owe me big time for this,” I retorted, turning back to unlock the door.
Hollis wasn’t even in the truck anymore. He stood outside of it, nervously pacing, rubbing his hands together, and appearing to talk to himself.
“Aye, come on in here.”
He looked up at me with wide eyes, bobbed his head, and then inhaled deeply and exhaled. If I wasn’t mistaken, I swore he looked scared. That shit didn’t make any sense.
“How you gon’ be up here looking like you afraid after you scared the shit out of her ass?”
“Because, depending on how this shakes out between us depends on how things go with you and me. You my last resort, H-Town.”
I could see the sincerity in his eyes, and I felt him. I wasn’t about to let him see me break, though, because his ass needed some toughness; he needed to man up to all the situations in his life that he had created.
“Come on.” I opened the door again and stepped inside. I closed and locked the door once more before I turned to my girl and saw the uncertainty and hesitation in her eyes.
“Hollis, this is Ms. Tegan Ingram, owner and operator of Baby Got Buns. Tegan, this is my mentee, Hollis Grove.”
I left out the statement that she was my woman because he already knew that. Besides, this morning, I was on some professional shit, and I wanted to treat it that way so that he would respect it as such.
He stepped forward, and I watched her for any signs of flinching, hesitation, or any discomfort. The moment that I saw it, I was gonna call this shit off and pull him out of here. My baby stepped forward and took his extended hand.
“Hello, Hollis. I would say that it’s a pleasure to meet you, but under the circumstances, I’m not so sure.”
“Uhm, yes, ma’am. I can respect that. First, I wanted to thank you for taking the time out to let me come and apologize. H-Town, uhm, Harlem, thank you for setting this up.”
Tegan gave a brief nod, indicating that he should continue.
“There is no excuse for my behavior yesterday evening. That’s not me . . . Well, that’s not the way I would normally roll. I’ve got a baby on the way, and I haven’t been able to find a job.”
“So, you thought trying to what, . . . rob, bully, or harass me would get that money for you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered.
“You thought I’d go for it because I was the new business owner.”
“And because I can tell you ain’t from around here.”
“Aye, I’ma let you two sit and talk it out. I’ll be sitting at that table over there,” I stated, interrupting their conversation and pointing to a table in the far corner.
“Okay,” Tegan replied.
I got caught up in my phone, checking emails and handling business while they talked. I kept my ear lightly tuned into the conversation, and I looked up every now and then to check their body language for any signs of discomfort.
Hollis explained his situation. “I mean, there’s no excuse for what I did, Miss Tegan. I wish I could turn back the hands of time and not do it. Thank you for not calling the cops on me.”
“What makes you think I won’t file a restraining order for harassment?”
I glanced up, and Hollis held his hands out, palms up, and shrugged. “I mean, you could. I wouldn’t even blame you or be mad. There would be nobody I could be mad at but me. I fuc—messed up. I’m hoping that you won’t though. I just found myself feeling desperate because my baby will be born in a couple of months, and I have no income, no prospects, and I’m feeling hopeless.
“I’ve been thinking about my actions a lot since last night, and I want to know if I can volunteer to do odd jobs around here. I mean, I’ll mop floors, take out the trash, and I’ll even clean the toilets if you just take a chance on me,” Hollis pleaded.
“Why? Why would you want to volunteer when you clearly said that you need money?” There was a tightness in Tegan’s voice, as if she didn’t believe him and wanted to see if he was just saying anything to get on her good side.
“I want to rebuild my credibility with Harlem and with you. I want to prove that I have a good work ethic, and I want to build a solid reputation in the community, so people see me in a positive light.”
“And why should I take a chance on you?” Baby asked.
Hollis sighed before he responded. “Because you’re the only one who can make the difference between me just being another statistic, or me being a success—a young Black man who learns his value, his worth, and knows that everyone doesn’t see him as just another punk ass—I mean, kid.”
