“You betta know it. Why didn’t you tell me I was coming to a demolition site?” She looked down at her shoes. “This is nowhere for Roberto Cavalli.”
“I ain’t think you was gon’ come on yourNext Top Modelshit.” I held my hand out to guide her the rest of the way and inside the house. “I just wanted to see your face.”
“Mmhmm.” Her eyes scanned the foyer, nodding thoughtfully, as we walked through. “A work in progress, huh?”
“A blank canvas on its way to a beautiful piece of art.”
She glanced over her shoulder at me. “That’s a way to sell it.”
Stopping in the middle of what would eventually become the living room, she spoke to the crew who was busy looking over the blueprint and gathering materials. “Hey, y’all.”
Their eyes shifted to me before glancing back over to her, but nobody spoke. Whether it was out of respect or fear, I was glad I didn’t have to take my business hat off and get on some street shit. She wasn’t my woman, but any woman with me, a nigga needed to tread lightly around.
Key snickered, and her eyes found mine again. “I know dats right,” she said, like she was conducting some kind of test. Making her way over to one of the walls in the center marked demo, she pointed to it. “This wall gotta come down?”
“Yep.”
“Lemme get the sledgehammer,” she said confidently.
I heard muffled chuckles from the crew, and we both cut our eyes at them.
“Chill,” I let out.
“Yeah, ‘cause I know Fat Albert and the junkyard band ain’t laughing at me.”
Mark, the big man out of the crew, quieted first, confirming that he was Fat Albert.
“Chill on my staff, Ma.” I held my hand out to her. “I don’t need you to lift a finger. That’s what they get paid to do. And you’re not dressed to be doin’ this kinda work.”
She cocked her head to the side slightly. “You think I can’t do it?” Although it was a question, it came out more as a challenge.
“As long as you got the right mind frame, you can do whatever you wanna do, Ma. I’m saying…”
“Cool.” She cut me off. “Gimme a minute.” She walked past me and back outside to her car.
I watched as she popped the trunk and disappeared behind it for a few seconds. I stood there, confused, not knowing what she was up to. And then, the trunk closed. She proceeded to walk back up to the house, this time more grounded than she had been in her heels. As she got closer, I saw why. She’d traded the heels for a pair of Sauconeys. The sneakers matched her fit as if she’d included them as a backup in the event her feet got tired from walking in the heels.
“I’m ready,” she said, confidence unwavering.
I stood back and looked over at the guys. “Somebody hand me a pair of safety googles.” Handing them over to her, I helped her step into a pair of coveralls. I zipped them up halfway then paused. “You sure about this?”
I still couldn’t tell if she was showing off, but the look of determination in her eyes was unwavering.
“Yes.”
Her reply was all dainty and shit. I wanted to tongue kiss her fine ass down in the middle of the room.
“Need anything else, boss?” someone asked.
“Nah,” I answered, not taking my eyes off her. “I got this. Y’all can tackle something else.”
“Aight.”
“You know you fine as fuck, right?”
She cracked a toothy smile. “I can imagine you know that I’m well aware.”
“Ya lil’ ass so cocky. Put this mask and gloves on.” I pulled the goggles down over her eyes and proceeded to cover myself the same way. “You ever use one of these?” I asked, handing her a sledgehammer.
