I pulled out my home laptop. I figured since Navy was gone for the day, she probably cleared most of my schedule. That meant I could get some much-needed writing in. I was one chapter away from finishing my fifth novel. I usually got in two chapters a day. Sometimes more, sometimes less but I had to always get at least two in. If I skipped writing, my day didn’t feel right.
Writing was my true passion. I didn’t care for politics but I knew my father wouldn’t let me be anything other than a senator. I saw the ambition in his eyes. He wanted me to be president too. I loathed the idea.
I knew writing was my calling ever since I was in middle school. We had a writing assignment to create a fantasy story. I went home and write my first novella. It was effortless. It made me buzz. It made my brain hurt. It made me proud.
I never felt proud signing or sponsoring a bill. I knew it was a necessary evil, so I did it but nothing about it made me sing with pride the way writing did. I couldn’t put on 90’s hip hop and zone out while I reviewed laws. I couldn’t pour myself a glass of whiskey and relax while I had a meeting about legislation.
My mouth watered at the thought of whiskey. Jameson preferably. It was how I drowned out the irritation of the day and how I welcomed the relaxation that came with writing.
“Are you almost done with it?” Apollo nodded toward my computer and I smiled.
“One more chapter then the epilogue, man.”
“I want a copy on my phone by morning, Van.”
“You got it,” I laughed.
I started writing, put my calls on hold, and didn’t look up until it was time for me to go home. I only knew it was time to go home because Apollo cleared his throat and when I looked up, he pointed to his watch.
I hit save on my open document then closed the laptop and slipped it back into its leather case. I wanted to get home in time to have a serious talk with Frankie. If Miss Lucas managed to stay for the entire day, I’d talk to her as well.
When I walked in, I heard giggling and low talking. I smelled something savory and amazing. I went into the den and looked at the scene in front of me. Two dark heads of hair tilted together. One head sporting a fluffy, coily puff and the other flaunting a sleek and tamed bun.
They were looking at something on one of their phones. Frankie’s laughter popped out bright and colorful against the background. Her head full of fluffy curls bounced up. She was the first to notice me. Her stare was wide and curious as she nudged Miss Lucas and pointed at me.
“Oh, hey.” Xari stood up and walked over to me. “Can we talk in the kitchen? I can show you what I made for dinner.”
“You made dinner?” I laughed, following her into the kitchen. My eyes took an involuntary trip to her perfect ass. I jerked my gaze up. I refused to be hypnotized by a twenty-year-old’s ass. Fuck that.
“I did. I told you I knew how to cook.” She’d told me that she could cook this morning but I didn’t believe her. Xari struck me as the type of person that wasn’t above lying to get her way. Maybe I had her pegged wrong.
“What did you make, Miss Lucas?” I sat my briefcase down in an empty chair at the kitchen island and stood at the stove.
“Well, you guys had shrimp in the freezer, so I made shrimp and grits. The real kind with the sauce, peppers, and Andouille sausage.” My stomach started growling the minute she said shrimp. Judging by the smell of the food, she knew her way around the kitchen.
“You’re not off the hook for that little stunt you pulled earlier.” I took the top off the silver pot and leaned over to smell the grits inside. They were perfect.
“Okay, but you have to admit, it smells fucking amazing.” She hopped up on the counter and crossed her legs. I kept my eyes on hers and folded my arms across my chest.
“Language, Miss Lucas.”
“You don’t watch yours all the time, Mr. Freeman.” She cocked her head to the side and smirked at me.
“I watch it all the time. Sometimes, when people get on my nerves and force me out of character, my language might slip.” I pulled down a bottle of Jameson whiskey then went for a glass. “Can you pass me the artisanal ice from the Subzero?” I watched quietly to see if she knew what I was talking about. She seemed to have the same knack as Navy for knowing things but she didn’t mask it with humility. Xari was proud of her knowledge.
She hopped off the counter and swayed over to the freezer near the wine chiller. Did she have to walk like that? Every time she swayed her hips, I heard A Tribe Called Quest’s Bonita Applebum playing in my head.
I was so wrapped up in her walk, I almost missed her grabbing the correct ice. “Oh, you keep yours in an ice chest. That’s cool. Do you have it delivered?”
“I do. Weekly. You know about artisanal ice, Miss Lucas?” I couldn’t help smiling a little as she set the ice chest on the counter in front of me.
“Can’t drink good whiskey or bourbon without it in my humble opinion. It gets your drink to the perfect temperature without diluting it because god knows I hate chasers.”
“Is that right?” My smile broadened.
“Yeah, they’re for bitches. Give it to me hard and straight.” My cock
