Work was a drag today. It was Monday morning and a new month. It was full of staff meetings, reviewing the bank's performance last month in February and plans for the incoming week to come. Now I was in my office hovering over paperwork when someone knocked on the open door.
"Yeah?" I questioned without glancing up.
"You've been dodging me."
The voice made me peer up, finding Normandi at the door in a silhouette-sculpting jumpsuit with a belted waist. "Can I...help you?"
"Yeah. You can tell me—"
"Does this have to do with work?" I interjected.
"It's about what I told you. Can we talk, please?"
I breathed out, placing the pen down. "Shut the door behind you."
Normandi came in and took a seat. "I know that what I told you is difficult to believe."
"What exactly makes you think that I'm your sister?" I asked.
"When I was younger, about eleven, I remember my father having a heated discussion with his right hand man about a woman that claimed he impregnated her. I didn't want to believe my father would cheat on my mother until the woman popped up at our house one day my last year of high school. She was a beautiful woman, dark curly hair, cornfed, it seemed like was biracial. She was screaming outside saying how you deserve to live there and raised as one of his children."
I frowned and chuckled. "How can she possibly give a damn when she's the one that gave me up?"
Normandi shrugged. "I don't know. My dad doesn't even know that I know."
"So how exactly did you find out about me?" I wondered.
"I met with her. Your mother." That made me sit back in my desk chair as she continued. "I didn't ask how her and my father knew each other. All I was worried about was finding you. She gave me your name and you just so happened to be the best employee at Gordon Bank. My parents brag about you."
"And he has no clue that I'm the daughter he let be raised in filthy foster homes and raise herself." I scoffed bitterly, "What a wonderful man he sounds like. Look, I don't know what you thought this would be. You probably thought I would welcome you with open arms just because you're my sister, or not, I don't know. But I don't care. I don't care who my birth father is. Quite frankly, I don't have parents. I got me and my best friends. That's all I'll ever need. So if you'd excuse me I have work to tend to and you should do the same."
I went back to my work and Normandi sat there for a moment, before giving me my space and leaving.
After work I found myself in ClubOne—the most popular nightclub franchise in Texas. It was upscale, two levels, four bars, a large dance floor, and stage for live shows. Everything from the grand architect and furniture choice just read upscale. The employees were here in the empty club, cleaning before open in a few hours. The bartender noticed me, so I crossed the floor over to the bar.
The male bartender was drying glasses. "What can I do for a beauty like yourself?"
"Jarvis. Can you tell him I'm down here for him?"
He looked at me, before returning to the glass. "You don't look like his wife."
"Cause she's not." Glasses clinking beside me cause me to peer over to a woman that mugged me. "They getting a divorce. What do you want with the boss?"
I frowned at her. "You should probably get the boss and stay in your place." I retorted.
"Mm." She rolled her eyes, walking over to the phone that hung beside the glass shelves of liquor bottles. "Someone's here for you. Hold on..." she pulled the phone off her ear looking at me, "What's your name?"
"Andi."
"She say her name Andi... Yeah okay." She hung up and said, "He coming."
"Andi!"
I peered up to the second level and Jarvis stood there with a smile. He motioned me up and I crossed the floor to the stairs. He met me at the top, wearing his favorite brand of two-piece suits, Tom Ford, with glossy black Chelsea boots. He watched me attentively coming up, until I stood in front of him.
"Fuck you look beautiful." He complimented, "Who thought leaving you alone would make you look ten times beautiful than before?"
I shifted under his stare, keeping the strength I usually lose when I was in his presence. "I'm not here for that. Can we talk privately?"
"You know the way." Jarvis nodded his head in the direction of his office. I made it to his office that has a huge reflective window that overlooked the entire club. I hear the door close behind me as I turned around on the heels of my Jimmy Choo's. "Do you want me to pour you a drink?"
"No, I'm not here long." I declined as he approached the bar and fixing himself a drink. "She spoke to my birth mother."
Jarvis sipped on his Cognac and leaned on his desk. "Who did?"
"The lady from my job, says she my sister. Keep up JV."
"JV, huh?" He smiled, "You ain't called me that in a while."
"Anyways, she told me today that she spoke to my birth mother. That's how she found me and knew where I worked." I further explained. "Are you still up for helping me find my birth mother?"
"Of course." He sat the glass down beside him on the desk. "I gave you my word. Just tell me her name and I'll get in it for you."
"I...didn't ask her." I took a deep breath, "I kind of got annoyed hearing about my birth mother wanting me to be raised in his house and he didn't want me either. I ain't want to hear about little loves perfect fucking life."
He chuckled shortly. "You sounding jealous."
"Fuck you."
"We can now. Desk, standing up...which one you prefer?"
"Neither." I started pacing steadily, stressfully rubbing my forehead. "Maybe I do feel some type of way. I'm mostly hurt than jealous. From what I know they had two more children after her. He knew about me. My birth mother knew about me and neither one of 'em wanted me. Do you know how many fucking times I met the Winston Gordon? Five. Five times."
"Well was he nice?"
"The most sweet and kindhearted man I've ever met." I stopped pacing and faced Jarvis. "Every time he came in the office he treated everyone with the upmost respect. He seems humble. Never made anyone feel they were less than."
"Sounds like a coo' cat." He crossed his arms across his broad chest, "Why not try to get to know him now? He could be different than back then."
"If he was different than he would've looked for me. Period." I released a bitter breath and leaned back on the desk beside him. "Once he know about me being his daughter, that Mister Nice Guy gets threw out the window. He'll treat me like I don't exist how he been doing. I rather talk to my birth mother first to hear about the real him so that I know what to expect."
"Good idea. But first, you need to get her name. Call ya sister."
"Her name's Normandi." I said pulling out my cell and dialing up her office number.
It rung for a moment. "Hello?" she answered.
"Hey, it's Andi."
"Oh, uhm, hey. Did you leave something at the office?"
"No. I wanted to talk to you. You... mentioned you spoke to my birth mother. Do you remember her name?"
"Elizabeth Connors."
"Okay, thank you." I hung up quickly, breathing out. "I know her name. I actually know my birth mother's name after all of these years."
"What is it?" He nudged me gently. "I can have my guy on it."
"Elizabeth Connors."
"We gotta name now, so I'm gonna help you get yo' answers baby." Jarvis placed his arm over my shoulder and rubbing my arm softly.
I breathe out just as my phone rung and I turned the face to me.
Jarvis removed his arm from around my shoulder. "That's ya boy?"
"One second." I stood up, answering the call. "Hey."
"I'm home and I miss you." His voice made me smile so hard I can tell it annoyed Jarvis since he scoffed behind me. "Come see me mama."
"I just have to go home and shower and I'm there."
"Shower here. Not like you boutta be wearin' clothes."
"Mm, nasty. I'm coming now." I hung up and turned around to Jarvis standing behind me. "I'm about to go. Let me know what you find?"
"Maybe, maybe not."
I rolled my eyes, knowing he was feeling some way about me leaving to Hassan. "Thank you JV."
"Yeah, whatever."
After leaving his ClubOne, I drove to Hassan's impeccable home and he let me in. He greeted me with a huge hug and kissing me deeply. I moaned in the kiss, until he kissed down my neck.
"Mm. You're on the road so much." I groaned as he hugged me.
"I know. You missed me?" He smiled down at me, palming my ass through my dress.
"Hell yeah." I raised up on my tiptoes and pressed my lips on his again. "What are we doing tonight?"
"Well first, lemme assist you outta these heels." Hassan reached down, pulling off my Jimmy Choo's and placing them on the shoe rack that's in the foyer, "Then let this purse go so you can get comfortable."
Hassan hung it on the coat hook and he kissed my forehead. "Then out this dress." he smiled, pulling down the zipper on my side and pushing it down my body till it pooled around my ankles. "You so gorgeous mama."
"Why thank you." I hugged around his torso, staring up at his extremely tall height. "Can I have some of Junior now?"
Hassan picked me up and hurried upstairs to his bathroom where he put me down and walked me backward into the frameless shower while kissing me feverishly. He accidentally hit the shower faucet, making the water spray out on us. I started laughing because he still had on his clothes and me, my underwear.
"Your clothes are wet."
"I gotta dryer."
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"Okay, your favorite whitest song?"
Hassan and me were accompanying each other on a comfortable pallet near the fireplace, asking each other questions and munching on kettle popcorn.
"Don't look at mine." I hand blocked the mini white board as I jotted down my answer.
Hassan chuckled, finishing his answer. "Turn around on three."
"One . . . Two . . . Three!"
We turned our white boards around in unison.
Hassan threw his head back, snickering. "Owl City 'Firefires'."
"Don't laugh at mine. You the one that chose 'Hey Soul Sister'."
"Don't knock Train," He mentioned the band, then sung in my face. "Hey, soul sister! Ain't that Mr. Mister on the radio, stereo..."
"The way you move ain't fair, you know!" I sung along with him.
"Ohh, you know it, but clowning." Hassan said.
"Yes I like it." I smiled, kissing him. "Now, next question."
"Aight, lemme see." He tapped the market on his chin, appearing thoughtful. "Okay, I got it. Favorite Wayan's movie?"
I was quick to write down my answer. "That's easy."
"Aight, let's flip it around then."
We flipped them around. . .
"A Low Down Dirty Shame," I read off his answer. "Dang. Why didn't I think about that?"
"You had to write down the whole title? Don't Be a Menace to South Central While Drinking Your Juice in the Hood." He snickered, "How you even remember that shit?"
I chuckled. "I used to watch it so many times. It's stuck in my head."
"Okay, now, climb on me." Hassan patted his lap, and I smiled, straddling him. "Now this my favorite parts on you."
He pulled off the cap of the market, drawing a circle on my face. "Oh my, God. This better be washable!"
"It is baby." He assured. He continued drawing circles on his favorite parts of me. "There we go: this face, these breasts, these thighs, that ass..." he smacked my bare ass under his t-shirt I have on and I winced in pleasure. "These light brown eyes and yo heart."
We held gazes, as I rubbed his face gently. "You take us serious?"
My brows furrowed. "Why you ask that?"
"Just tryna make sure. I'm serious bout this—us." Hassan gestured between our bodies, "If I am just something you fuckin' that's coo' too. I know I been feeling you since I first visited you at the bank."
"I'm feeling you too," I wrapped my arms around his neck loosely. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."
Hassan stared me in the eyes, reading me. He leaned in, capturing my lips, twining his tongue with mine. He pulled back, sucking on my bottom lip gently before letting it go. "My moms be having these Sunday barbecues. Come wit me. As my girl."
"Sunday?"
Hassan intertwined our fingers togethe. "Sunday."
I bit my bottom lip, smiling. "Then you have a date."
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