Page 30
“Great, what did Chef Wayne make for us?” she asks. Her voice is chirpy; I’m noticing that more these days. She’s getting comfortable, and I like it.
“Jollof rice with grilled beef stew and some broccoli,” I answer.
“Really? Jollof rice! That’s very nice of him.”
“I believe he heard your cry,” I tease.
“Finally, someone that hears my cry,” she jokes.
She follows me to the kitchen. The table is already set. We sit to eat, and I know she’s enjoying the meal, with all the soft moans that keep escaping her, and giving me a fucking hard-on.
“Why does Jonah call you Sprinkles?” I ask. I need to know.
She smiles.
“Do you really want to know?” I nod.
“Because I drown my ice cream in sprinkles.” She shrugs. “What can I say? I love sprinkles.” A soft smile tugs at her lips.
“So, he calls you Sprinkles because you eat more sprinkles than the actual ice cream.” I confirm
“Yeah, Ice thinks I’m weird too. Every time I do that. I’m convinced Chef thinks I’m crazy.” She shrugs
“I bet.” She shrugs. We continue to eat in silence. I’m glad to know it’s not a secret sexual name. A wave of relief washes over me. Why do I need to know every fucking thing about her? It’s like she cast a spell on me, a spell I could never break. The question is, do I want to break the spell? Because sitting next to her commands my peace and every fiber of my protective instinct.
Fuck! There’s also Jonah. Fuck him
Chapter nineteen
Bruce
Ice takes Lexi for ice cream on the north side of the city, no thanks to Chef Wayne, who has brought her some and told her she needs to visit the store. I wasn’t too happy about his suggestion because Lexi couldn’t stop begging to visit the store. I eventually gave in and had Ice take her, though I had the place surveilled and four extra guys go with them, unbeknownst to her. She had Amrit only for a long time and seems to think Ice alone is all she needs. Mentioning that Amrit died for her is something she doesn’t need.
Today is her third visit, and I decided to stop by, so I can watch her having more sprinkles than ice cream, as Ice says. I enter the room and find her sitting at a table with a black woman and, to my shock, speaking French, laughing, crying, and giggling all at the same time. Ice is watching them closely, and one of my guys is also sitting quietly in the store. The other two are outside, with one sitting in the car.
They all look surprised to see me. I go and take a seat with Ice.
“What’s going on here?”
“This lady walked up to her and called her by a J name with her last name. Lexi was surprised and just stared at the lady, then the lady spoke to her in French. Before I know it, she’s racing into the woman’s arms. They’re hugging and crying. I didn’t want to pull her, but I’m alert and watching. She then told me the lady is her mom’s friend, and she would like to talk to her, so I agreed.”
I nod my understanding. “She left her ice cream; you know Lexi doesn’t leave that.”
I chuckle, we both know she will fight you for her ice cream and sprinkles any day, but this woman is more important to her.
“Is she okay though?” I ask.
“She’s fine, I think. They are catching up. I didn’t know she speaks French.”
“I didn’t know either.”
She needs a gentle layer peeling to know her. She turns my way, smiles, and waves at me.
She and the lady rise from their seat and hug each other tight. The lady comes to me.
“Thank you for looking after my Jola,” she says, putting her hand out to me. I return the handshake.
“I’m Dr. Pierre. Jola tells me you must check me out first before she’s allowed to call or see me. Please let me know what you need, and I can have that available. I’m just sad that I’m leaving Chicago in a week. I would like to see her before I leave and be able to contact her later,” she says, her voice cracking.
