Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“I see. Well, so, uh, how long have you been back?”
“’Bout a year. Hey, have you talked to Abby or Marchella?”
“Names that are blasts from the past.” He gleamed. “Nah, not since I stopped working in Greater Heights. They got jobs over in that same area after the Red Rooster shut down.”
She nodded in understanding.
“You look good.” He raked her with a slow gaze.
“So do you.”
He focused on her lips.
“You work here?” she asked.
“Yeah. Bouncer. I have a few jobs, actually. Personal trainer, fitness instructor at the gym, amongst other things.”
“You always did have a bunch of jobs. You’re like a Jamaican,” she teased, making him laugh. “One time I think you had, like, four jobs. Always had a strong work ethic.”
He looked at her fingers, noticing there was no ring, much to his happiness.
She’s been here a whole fucking year and didn’t bother to try ’nd look me up? Weird.
“I’m on the clock, so I’m not going to keep you.” He glanced at his watch. “Let’s catch up. Exchange numbers. Is that cool with you?” He pulled out his phone from his pocket.
“Okay, yeah, that’s fine.”
So exchange numbers they did. Before he left, he leaned close to her ear.
“You’re even more beautiful than when I last saw you all those years ago. I’ll be in touch.” With that, he waved goodbye …
…The next day
Nadia lay in her bed, the sound of Jack Harlow’s, ‘Lovin’ On Me’ serenading her as she clutched an old Polaroid photo of her and Lennox. It was yellowed around the edges, and a red scratch was etched along the top. There the two of them stood, arms crossed in B-Boy stances with silly expressions on their faces. She wasn’t sure of the occasion, her memory shorted out regarding that detail, but she remembered distinctly how she’d felt when the photo was taken. Happiness. Elation. A sense of safety. Perhaps the picture depicted just another day in their life and not a special occasion.
Right then, her stomach rumbled. She tossed the photo to the side and her mouth watered as ancient memories emerged and flooded her heart. Bacon and egg sandwiches reminded her of him—with salsa on the side.
That’s what Lennox would offer her, along with a fresh cup of coffee when they worked at the restaurant together so long ago. They’d come in early, before everyone else. The first time it happened, she thought she was alone, and she cried. He didn’t ask her what was wrong when he discovered her in the back pantry crouched down next to the large bags of flour. Instead, he reached past her, as if he didn’t see her, and grabbed a big container of onion powder. As he walked out, he turned around and told her to come eat ’fore George, the shift manager, got in. She got to her feet and watched as the sizzle of the griddles merged with the music from a jukebox. She kept her eyes trained on this big young man wearing a grease-stained apron as he fixed her breakfast.
And that’s how they continued, day after day. She’d check inventory in the mornings, making sure they had enough grits and sliced lemons, and then set up the tables for customers. Salt and pepper shakers. Tabasco sauce. Before the sun rose and The Red Rooster was officially open for business, he’d pack her a little bag to take home. Bacon or sausage sandwiches on a fluffy, buttery biscuit with packs of strawberry jam. Sometimes he’d add an apple or banana, too.
He was one of three cooks at the Red Rooster, a decent chef but an even better friend. As time wore on, she found herself pouring all of her troubles at his feet. Lennox had that way about him. He was easy to talk to—maybe even too easy. He’d listen to her intently, then give her great advice and pep talks. Like a psychologist she didn’t have to pay.
She’d learned a few things about him, too. Such as the fact that he was close to his mother, but didn’t trust his father. He was protective of his sister. She realized soon after they’d begun confiding in one another that he was a gym rat but loved to stuff his face, too, and had a weakness for apple cobbler. She baked the best one he’d ever had. Or at least that’s what he said.
He enjoyed reading travel brochures and planning trips, but what always struck her as peculiar was how down to earth and humble he was. Fact was, Lennox was an attractive man. Extremely attractive. Guys like him typically were full of themselves, at least in her experience. She’d had her share of handsome boys, and rarely did they come across as modest.
More strikingly, there was an intensity about his electric gray gaze, although not alarmingly so. Lennox radiated an invisible golden light one couldn’t see but feel. Even the way he looked at a person when just walking past would make them turn to putty. He had thick eyebrows, broad shoulders, and an impressive height. He was muscular. Naturally tan. Gorgeous ebony hair covered his head, tapered on the sides and at the nape. When she saw him last night at the club, he had a beard, which made him look more mature. When they were younger, he was clean shaven and had a cleft chin.