AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories) (3 page)

Chapter 4

              A few minutes after Regina left for school, there was a knock at the door. It was Armand with the larger quantity he agreed to front me the day before.

              “You have to really be moving this. Every Friday I will send a messenger to pick up cash and another messenger to drop off product. If you don’t have it, I can’t cover for you. You have to get rid of it all. You send back product, it ages and there will be a fee to take it back, because my next buyer isn’t getting the quality they could have had in the time you sat on it,” he said.

              “You are all business,” I said, a little surprised at Armand.

              “You moved up to big money. I like you, but you never said you were my girl. At this stage, business is business and I can’t help if you fall too far,” he said.

              I thought for a long moment before accepting the package he had. Could I move a QP every week? Four ounces was a lot for me if I was only selling to coworkers. I needed to branch out discreetly if I was going to do this.

              “Fair enough,” I said to Armand, taking the package from his hands.

              It looked like a bakery box, and smelled like one as well. He nodded and threw up the deuce as he left. When I opened the box, there was an actual cake. When I cut into it, there was a lump in the middle. It had been gutted and filled with four individually wrapped ounces that had been tightly compacted. I had over a hundred grams to sell in a week.

              I also had to get to work. I threw on my uniform, a white v-neck and a black-a line skirt today, and fixed my hair as quickly as I could. I’m not much for makeup, so a little gloss and I was ready. I opened one ounce and prepared two eighths and a few nickel and dime bags. For those of my coworkers who did buy, I needed to figure out when we had shifts together so I could drum up more business. Smokers hang with smokers.

              I rushed out the door and straight to work. As I joined the other servers setting up the front of the house, delicious smells wafted from the kitchen. Our menu was always the same, but it offered a variety. Southern food covered a larger spectrum than many realized until they came in the door. Our owner was originally a Southern army brat, but he liked the hustle of the North and the food of the South.

              I just liked to pay the bills, and the restaurant saved a little on groceries. There was always waste and leftovers that we were allowed to take home at the end of the night.

              As we opened our doors for breakfast, there was a line already waiting to come in. That was normal. There was a familiar face that came in with the others. Blue Eyes from last night. He asked the hostess to seat him in the same area. My area.

              I waited on my customers in order that they were seated. He was third.

              “Welcome back. I see you are on your own today,” I said.

              “Yeah, I thought I would have breakfast. Last night was my first time here, but one of the guys in the group said you all make a great breakfast,” he said, smiling.

              He looked me in the eyes as we spoke, just as he had last night.

              “Well, it is certainly popular. We have a variety of menu items for breakfast, but most people get the biscuits and gravy or one of our styles of grits,” I replied, trying to smile as nicely as he was.

              It wasn’t hard. This white man was gorgeous. I wasn’t going to do anything about it, but I was glad I was showing a little leg today. I could flirt a little and hopefully receive another good tip.

              “Well, what would be your dream breakfast from this menu?” he asked.

              “Oh, personally I like the biscuits as they are, with cheese grits and bacon. My favorite breakfast item is actually our waffles, though. They are oversized, and the chef orders nice cane syrups that set them off just right. You can’t beat that with a glass of juice. I like to do half cranberry, half apple. Then again, I cover the waffle in more butter than I should,” I said in closing.

              “Looks like you do it just right,” he said, giving my body a quick glance, then smiling at me again.

              Well, look at him making a black girl blush. I didn’t really have time for romance, though. I gave him another smile and shifted my stance as I held the pen to the paper for his order.

              “I’ll have the breakfast you last described,” he said.

              I could see on his face he had hoped for a flirtatious response to his own flirting.

              “All right. I will get your ticket in and your order should be out momentarily. I will be right back with the juice,” I said, leaving him silverware and taking his menu.

              I included his juice with the drink orders for two other tables. I served them all quickly, took two more orders, and my first items were starting to come to the serving window.

              Most customers thanked me as I set down their food. The entire time, I felt eyes on me. When I was next at the serving window, I looked around the restaurant. Blue Eyes had been watching me as I worked.

              I grabbed my next completed dishes. I had an order for two, and Blue Eyes’ waffle. I placed the couple’s first. If this guy had a crush, I needed to turn on the charm for the tip without sending mixed messages.

              “Alright, sir, one waffle and cranberry apple juice blend. Your butter is on the side. I brought Georgia cane syrup for your meal. It is my favorite of what we offer,” I said.

              “Thanks, and you can call me Mitchell. Mitchell Durham, D’vinity,” he said.

              “Okay, well enjoy your meal, Mitchell Durham,” I said.

              We didn’t wear name tags. He remembered my name and was here two days in a row. This guy definitely was trying to show his interest. It was sweet, but I didn’t have time for any relationship except the one with my daughter.

              I continued making rounds clearing and serving. Though Mitchell was a table of one with a small order, he managed to stretch out coffee and some kind of paperwork until things started to slow down for lunch.

              “Is there anything else you would like? More coffee?” I asked.

              “Um, no. I suppose I have been here a little long,” he said, blushing and looking away.

              “Well, you are a paying customer,” I said with a smile, though I agreed.

              All the staring had made me nervous.

              “Well, all the same, I should probably go.”

              “Okay, have a great day,” I said.

              I continued to clear a few other tables until he left. After I felt it had been sufficient time for him to be off the property completely, I looked for his tip before I actually cleared his table.

              His bill had not even hit ten dollars; he’d left one hundred ten dollars on the table. Definitely a crush.

              He also left a note.

              “I will be back for a late dinner. I would love if you could join me, or if we could get drinks when you get off. Mitch.”

Chapter 5

              While it was slow at lunch a few of my coworkers purchased the bit of green I had brought with me. A couple that I mentioned having quantity to called some of their friends and made larger orders for the next day. I could probably move a little over two ounces taking care of people’s weekends, but I knew things would slow down for private sales and tips at the beginning of the week.

              I watched the clock until dinner rush. It was a Friday night, so once the crowd started coming, it didn’t slow down until about half an hour before closing. I had been so busy that I didn’t notice Mitch had returned. My section stayed full, so he ended up seated in a different area.

              As things died down, I cleaned my table and started some of my Saturday set-up. The last few guest left and we started to lock the doors. I looked up to see Mitch looking in my direction as he left.

              Oh, well.

              Once we were finally closed, my coworkers and I parted ways. As I started walking, I heard someone call my name. I looked around to see that Mitch had lingered.

              “Uh, hi,” I said, stepping back a bit and wrapping my hand around the keys in my pocket so that they poked out between my fisted fingers.

              “It’s me, Mitch, from this morning,” he said, giving a small jog closer.

              “Yes, and the large group last night and dinner this evening,” I said.

              “You have noticed me,” he said smiling.

              I nodded.

              “I don’t know if you saw it, but I left you a note this morning. Would you like to go get drinks?” he asked.

              I relaxed a little. I guess it showed, because he relaxed a bit as well.

              “Thank you, but I can’t,” I said.

              “I’m sorry, you’re probably seeing someone,” he said, shaking his head disappointedly.

              “No, it’s not that. Honestly, I don’t date. I need to get home to my daughter,” I said.

              I knew she and Mrs. Franklin were probably asleep, but I didn’t know how I felt about this guy. I had only attempted dating twice since my husband died. Both times had been horrible experiences.

              “Oh, you have a daughter? That’s nice,” he said.

              “Yes, she is eleven,” I said. “Have a good night.”

              I started to keep walking.

              “Would you like to have dinner one night that you are off? Or we could get lunch while your daughter is at school,” he offered.

              “That’s very sweet, but I have to pass,” I replied.

              “Well, if you change your mind. I’ll be around. I recently found a local restaurant I really like. Good food. Nice staff. A really attractive server I think I have a bit of a crush on,” he said, giving me one more smile.

              I smiled back, and we each went on our way.

              We closed an hour later on the weekend, so I got home around midnight. Regina was watching TV waiting for me. Mrs. Franklin was asleep in the chair this time.

              “Hi, sweetie,” I said.

              “Hey, Momma. How was work?” Regina asked.

              “Okay, I have a new customer. Big tipper with a big crush,” I said. “How was school?”

              “Fine. I need to get a poster this weekend. I have a new project in history that will be due in three weeks,” she said. “Tell me about your customer. Is he nice looking? What did he order?”

              “He is handsome. Yesterday he had the pulled pork special; today he had a waffle at my suggestion. Why do you care?” I asked, giving her my best tell-Momma-the-truth face.

              “Well, you need to get our more besides work. Plus, normally on Fridays you come in and when I ask about work you talk about it being exhausting. Tonight you talked about a customer with a crush,” she said.

              She paid too much attention for a girl her age.

              “Well, I will get out plenty when you go to college,” I said.

              I went to my room to change cloths and she followed me, still talking.

              “We have a few years before then, and you need a boyfriend now. Our teacher was mean at the beginning of the year, but over Christmas she got a boyfriend. She’s still a good teacher, but she is more relaxed now. You need a boyfriend to help you relax,” Regina continued.

              “Is that so?”

              “Yes, you worked hard when Daddy was alive, but he always seemed to relax you, too,” she said.

              I stood looking in the mirror for a moment once I put on my night shirt.

              “You okay, Momma?” Regina asked.             

              “Yes, I was just thinking about what to wear to work tomorrow. Saturday is fewer people, but larger tickets. Families come in the morning; families and couples on dates come in the evening,” I said.

              Really I was thinking about what she had said, and Mitch’s invitation.

              “Well, I think you should wear your black pencil skirt tomorrow with your white scoop-neck top. I know you just wore it, but it looks good on you,” she said. “Night, Momma.”

              She hopped across the bed to kiss my cheek. Then she went to her own room. As I passed through the living room to the kitchen, Mrs. Franklin began folding the blanket she was sleeping under and gathering her things to go to her own house.

              “Thanks again, Mrs. Franklin,” I said.

              “Sure! I like the company,” she said.

              She made her way to the door.

              “Wear a little perfume,” she called, just before she closed it behind her.

Chapter 6

              I had followed the suggestions of my daughter and Mrs. Franklin, but Mitch was not there Saturday. Me efforts were in vain.

              I made good tips anyway and the preorders on green all worked out well. The day had been a success.

              Sunday the restaurant was closed. Regina and I purchased her project supplies that morning and then had hot dogs in the park. We lay on a blanket and she read to me. Then we had Sunday dinner at Mrs. Franklin’s house.

              Throughout the week I continued to dress a little nicer. I wore my usual lip gloss, but added small stud earrings and perfume. Mitch came in for breakfast twice, lunch twice, and three dinners. Every visit, he tipped fifty dollars more than the last.

              When he came to lunch on Thursday I finally had to find out what his deal was. We were slow, and the only other people in my section were two elderly couples. They were regulars, so I knew my timing pretty well to keep them satisfied. When they ordered their coffees and desserts, I invited myself to sit at Mitch’s table.

              “So, what is your story?” I asked.

              “Excuse me?” Mitch said.

              “I know, this goes beyond the realm of our usual pleasantries, but I know all my regulars. You are becoming a regular and you asked me to drinks or dinner. I should get to know you in case I change my mind in the future,” I said.

              I had never been good at flirting. I never really had to be. My husband and I got together as children and I hadn’t felt the same attraction to anyone since he died.

              “Are you thinking about changing your mind?” he asked.

              “I’m entertaining the idea,” I replied.

              “Okay, well, I’m thirty-one,” he said

              “Twenty-nine,” I replied.

              “I have an older sister and a younger sister,” he continued.

              “Only child,” I replied.

              “I own my own company,” he added.

              “You know I’m a waitress. Congratulations on being a small business owner. Anyplace I would know?” I asked.

              “You may have heard of us. Durham Commercial Constructions, DCC. We design and build commercial properties,” he said.

              “No, I haven’t, but I don’t have a lot of friends in commercial construction,” I replied jokingly.

              “Basically we build commercial properties and public structures,” he said.

              “Sounds lucrative,” I replied.

              “Pays the bills,” he joked back.

              “Lately you seem to be paying mine,” I teased, half seriously.

              “Well, it wouldn’t be a problem. I would leave more, but I imagine that would look strange,” he said.

              “So, you intend to just come and eat all your meals here?” I asked.

              “If it means I get to see you,” he said, looking in my eyes.

              A long moment passed and I excused myself to check on the rest of my diners.

              When I returned, he was ready for his bill with his jacket on. He stood as I approached.

              “Let me take you out,” he asked again.

              “Well, I’m really only off on Sunday. That’s usually my time with Regina, my daughter,” I said.

              “Bring her, too. I like kids. Both of my sisters are married. I’m a great uncle. My nieces and nephews love me,” he said. “We could all go to dinner and a movie.”

              I thought for a moment.

              “Why don’t you join us instead? We usually have dinner at Mrs. Franklin’s house on Sunday. We could see a movie. Then walk to Mrs. Franklin’s. I can let her know beforehand that there will be one more head at the table.

              “Whatever you like,” he said. “Um, I have a meeting first thing tomorrow and I’ve noticed your Friday nights are hectic. I’ll be back for lunch on Saturday.”

              “Sure. See you then,” I replied.