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"Girl, I should really beat his ass! He keep playing with me like I fucking won't." I was quickly losing interest in this conversation when it's became about the same thing: her damn "hoe ass" boyfriend.
The poor boy don't be doing nothing.
"Zaire, if you call me one more time about this boy, I'm gonna stop answering your calls." She was my best friend and all, but lord.
She kept ranting on and on, completely ignoring my comment, while I pulled up to the address given from my clients yesterday.
"Hey sis, I'm close to our area, you wanna grab something to eat after I get this lease signed real quick?" I asked, grabbing my purse and ruffling my hair in the rear view mirror. "Yea girl, lemme know when."
"Bet, love you."
"Love you, too."
I hung up and got out my car. While walking up the porch of the house, it easily identified as the nicest one on the block by just a quick observation.
I ranged the doorbell, and only waited like ten seconds before the door was unlocked. A familiar spanish lady appeared in doorway, holding a big smile.
"Ms. Velazquez, how are you?" I asked, being pulled into a full hug. "Mama, call me Ariel. I'm great now that you're here. You?" She asked while motioning for me to come in.
"Good, good. Your son here to give the paperwork and sign the finals?"
"Yes." She answered before walking over to the stairs. "Garrett!"
"What wrong, Steppa?" He yelled from upstairs.
"The realtor's here!" He responded with a "Bet", and she walked back over to the table I was sitting at and sat.
"Mama, how old you?" She asked in her thick accent.
"Twenty-one ma'am."
She nodded before responding back. "Well Jordan-Armani, I'm only thirty-six. No need to call me ma'am. I'm still hip, trust and believe."
I laughed at how playful she was, giving back a simple "Okay".
