Lev: a Shot Callers novel

Nas laughed at me as I fanned my face, making our way to the bar. She nudged me. “You better get used to guys falling over themselves like that. Especially with a face like yours.”


I was confused. “What do you mean?”

She raised a brow. “Fishing for compliments?” But as I lowered my face, my brow furrowed in confusion, she muttered to herself, “Dear God, she doesn’t know.” Before I could say another word, she pulled me into the mirrored foyer. Thankfully, it was deserted when she placed me right in front of it and stood behind me. “What do you see when you look in the mirror?”

I hated my reflection. It was cruel to look so much like the person I missed most in the world, my mother. I loved her until the very last moment of her illness, and when she died, my love turned to feigned indifference. I pretended it didn’t hurt to lose her, my mom, my best friend, although it was agony. Every breath I took over the next year proved difficult. My life would never be the same. She was pure sunshine. The person who took care of me when I was sick and made me laugh when I was sad. I depended on her. She was everything to me. And then she was gone.

My eyes trained on my chin, I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Look at yourself. I mean really look at yourself.” My eyes met my reflection as she asked, “Don’t you see it? Can you even comprehend how attractive you are?”

“I look like my mother,” I whispered.

Nas smiled gently. “I’ll bet she was beautiful.”

She was. “She was lovely.”

“Can you see it?” Nas probed softly. I shook my head. She reached around me to place her fingers under my chin, lifting it, and my reflection was forced into my line of sight. “Look harder.” She moved to stand by my side. “You have elegant cheekbones. Your skin is impeccable and creamy, like porcelain. You have a small, full mouth, which I’ll bet gives men all sorts of naughty ideas.” My blush was intense. “Your hair is smooth and shiny, and dark without being black. Your big green eyes and long lashes make you look exotic and mysterious. And I’m guessing that when you get some weight back on that tiny tight body, you’re going to have curves in all the right places.” She placed her hands on my shoulders and squeezed hard enough to make a point. “You’re lethal, Mina. And you don’t even know it.”

Her speech had me really looking at myself. I never viewed myself as beautiful. I’d always viewed myself as passable, but only just. But as she pointed everything out, bit-by-bit, I supposed it was there. For the first time, I could see it.

“I’m pretty?” I asked carefully, inspecting my reflection.

“Now you’re fishing for compliments.” She groaned as she pushed me to the side, causing me to stumble and laugh. “You little shit.” She chuckled as we went into the bar area.

I winced as soon as my eyes hit the rows of glasses on the counter. “Are you sure you want to do this? Chances are I’m going to drop a glass, accidentally slit my wrist, and die on you.”

Nas tilted her head up in thought. “Hmmm. Yes. That could be a problem.” She shrugged. “Again, a risk I’m willing to take.”

She gathered a bunch of different glasses and pointed to each one as she named them. “Highball. Tumbler. Sifter. Shot. Cocktail. Martini. Wine. Flute.”

“No beer glasses?”

She seemed pleased that I’d noticed. “We are a high class establishment. We do serve imported beers, but you’ll find that majority of our patrons will ask for mixers. Otherwise,”—she reached under the bar to pull out another tall glass from inside the refrigerator—“beer glasses are kept chilled and served with a wedge of lemon, strictly no ice.”

“Chilled. Lemon. No ice.” I nodded. “Got it.”

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