Page 9 of Just Like Summer

“My break is almost up; can I get my phone and wallet?” she asked, wiping her hands off.

He conceded, retrieving her things from his pocket and handing them over.

A faint smile appeared but was pained. “Thanks… I didn’t say that last night.”

“Don’t mention it. You need a ride after your shift?”

Kamilla shook her head. “I can find my way. Wouldn’t want to make your girlfriend jealous.”

Cairo scoffed. “Don’t nobody want that girl, and she don’t get the hint, even if a nigga dogs her out.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Kamilla dug the twenty she had in her wallet out and put it under his cup. “We’re even, now.”

Before Cairo could protest, she was on her way to clock back in and finish her shift.

He palmed the top of his head and groaned, watching her walk away. “What you doin’, nigga?”

Choosing to distract himself, he took his food back to the car and called Nate. Nate answered the phone on the third ring, lungs full of smoke. “‘Bout time, nigga.”

“Fuck is up with you?”

Nate inhaled and then exhaled – both long and dramatic. “Dania’s pregnant.”

“Ah shit. You happy or…”

“My happiness don’t mean shit if she talking about getting rid of it ‘cause we can’t afford no baby,” Nate admitted. “Why am I getting attached to something if it ain’t going to happen?”

“You want it?”

“That’s my seed, nigga,” Nate replied.

“Aight, then tell her that. She don’t want your passive bullshit. Give her the real. We got a mark, y’all will be cool. Tell her to chill,” Cairo offered.

“Yeah, I hear you. What you getting into?”

Cairo’s attention refocused on Martez and a handful of CK’s getting out of a car and moving toward the ordering window. Cairo’s hand instinctively went to his gun. He toyed with the thought of lighting him up right here, but that would result in flipping the city on its head. He’d done it more times to count. Cairo was the Azul Heart they called when the message needed to be delivered without room for misunderstanding. A cool demeanor always led to an explosive temper.

He watched how clearly uncomfortable Kamilla was with his presence. The expression over her face was enough to make him settle in his seat and sit there until she got off. Where this need to protect her came from, he didn’t know, but he knew he couldn’t shake it. Couldn’t make himself treat her like he’d done any other woman in the hood.

“You hear me, nigga?” Nate questioned.

“Yeah, I hear you. I’m chilling until we get up later. Handle your family shit,” Cairo spoke before hanging up.

While QaMeesha hung out the window eating up the attention, Kamilla shied away from it. Avoidant eyes, an expression that read if she could disappear, she would. Right up his alley. Not in the mix. The longer he stared, the more it was evident that his plans were about to go up in smoke.

five

“Ay, Kamry, go clean the grill and make sure this trash gets taken out,” QaMeesha called, as she pranced into the office with the till under her arm. Kamilla frowned. The walk by wind was just as foul as her attitude. The stench was similar to a small rodent crawling inside of her and dying. And the nerve of her to attempt to hand that out without paying someone for enduring the foul aroma.

Kamilla curled her lip, brows furrowed, and she groaned to herself. Out of retaliation, jealousy or whatever else, QaMeesha let the people responsible for cleaning the kitchen and breaking down the small restaurant off early. There wasn’t any other reason for it, outside of the fact that Kamilla had attention she didn’t even want.

Several times throughout the day, she begged God to just let her disappear. The advances from men and attitudes from women, along with trying to figure out her first job was all too much. That on top of the things she was already battling was all too overwhelming. Not to mention, she still had to figure out how to get back to her aunt’s house and deal with staying out of Martez’s space for the rest of the night.

QaMeesha’s bullshit was the very last thing she wanted to deal with. Kamilla pushed the wired headphones into her ears, donned her hands with the gloves necessary to use the cleaning chemicals, and began doing what was asked of her. Kamilla wasn’t any stranger to hard work. There were plenty of days she cleaned local businesses or homes with her mother. Her go-to playlist was a few tracks she converted to mp3 from her father’s first album. Countless days, she listened to his tales of street life in L.O. Never in a million years did she think she would be in the epicenter of the place that made him. The place he’d found his woman – the place he’d found love.

By the time she was halfway through the playlist, the bulk of the equipment had been cleaned and ready to open the next day. After wiping down the last of the surfaces, she moved on to cleaning the floors. The trash, she saved for last. Slipping into the employee bathroom with her bag in tow and using some wipes until she could get a shower, she changed out of her uniform into a lounge set that would hopefully keep her undetected on the way home.

Two large bags of trash in tow, Kamilla clocked out and balanced the trash out of the back door. She was immediately hit with a cloud of Azul Kush. The potent smoke choking her.