Love Delivered

“Yeah. Irregardless of what you think, I’m not a dry snitch. I didn’t tell Stenton about—”she glanced around, lowering her voice—“Dallas. Don’t get excited or anything, Mascot, but I’ve always been #TeamMascot when it comes down to Erika.” Then her voice lowered even more and she drew closer to me so as not to give away the new plea in it. “That fucking Alton went through my phone when I fell out that night. And he told Stenton that night at the club where you were staying when he was telling him you wanted to leave.” Tynisha backed away and returned to her usual tempo. “Me nuh fuckin’ snitch.”


And there was where her Jamaican roots wanted to flare. What I wanted to reply was irregardless is not a word…for the millionth time. I still was stuck at that. I decided against it, considering her humility. Ughhhh! I didn’t want to recall that horrific night. I just wanted to move past it, and I had been using the bakery as a distraction.

“Zo, we got customers outside,” Angela reminded with a snare in her tone.

“Don’t interrupt when two business women are speaking business!” Tynisha returned.

“Bitch, only business you got here is these cameras. You betta—”

Tynisha immediately returns, “Cunt, who de hell you call bitch—”

“Hey! No we will not!” I yelled over them. “Tynisha, you are in my place of business. You’re not going to bring that ratchetness here! And Ang, you will not talk to my friends like that!”

Surprisingly, that ceased the fire. It didn’t, however, halt the nasty looks they threw each other.

Needing to stop that, too, I asked, “Ty, you still haven’t explained why you’re here with your crew.”

“I can answer that, Ms. Barrett. I’m Chad Windthral, the producer of Taking Tips from Tynisha.” A short man with silky hair falling below his ears, who appeared more indigent than an entertainment shot-caller, moved between Tynisha and me. “Ms. Lang would like to shoot a few scenes here, starting today. This will give diversity in locations. In return, it will bring attention to your bakery…a form of marketing…free publicity.” He handed me a document packet. “We’ll need your consent first.”

My eyes flew to Tynisha. “Did Stenton put you up to this?”

Tynisha flinched. “Stenton? Why would he ask me to do this? He’ll probably kill me for being here with my crew.” I chewed my lips in contemplation. She was right. “But don’t think this will involve you. We have a script already. You just keep doing what you’re doing. You and…” she tossed a dismissive glance over to Angela. “…your people can be cut out on the editing floor if you want. We just need the facility for this.”

My shoulders dropped. This was Tynisha’s way of rekindling our friendship, a friendship she’d always denounced. I’d been ignoring her since Dallas, upset at the world for my decision. And here she was, waving the white flag when she didn’t do anything wrong in the first place.

“No fighting, cussing or arguing, okay?” I begged with a moue.

Tynisha leaped. “I swear! No drama!” She raised her right hand.

“That includes with my cousin. She’s my employee and won’t be harassed on the job…or off,” I amended.

Tynisha growled as she sent another nasty scowl over to Angela, who returned it.

“I’m serious!”

“Yeah…yeah, Mascot! I know how to behave,” she hissed while turning to convene her staff.

Tynisha shot a total of three scenes at the bakery, one including Alton that had Angela gagging. That strategy and Stenton’s forced me to hire a second employee within a week to increase production. Life had turned hectic almost overnight. Between Jordan, school and the bakery, I had no idle time to reflect on my heartache. I used my hunger for success, something I’d lost focus on some time ago, to keep my mind.

~~~~~~~~~~

~Stenton~

“C’mon, man. C’mon! You can do it for Daddy,” I tried appealing to him. After seconds of observing his blank face, I attempted again. “Right?”

“Da-Da…” Jordan inclined on the toilet seat.

“Yeah, man?”

“Wan’ play, Da-Da.” His face fell into a frown.

We’d been at it for some time; I didn’t want to torture him, and adverse my efforts at this damn potty training shit! I’d heard horror stories about it and even read up on all the studies, articles and testimonials. Jordan was a bright kid so far, I was just sure he’d pick this up without delay.

“Did he do it yet?”

I glanced up to find Alton’s head craned into the bathroom door, pinching his nose.

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