Chapter 2 #2
I shook my head slowly. I wasn’t some naive ass nigga.
I knew what rolling with her on this brand trip could turn into.
Being up under her, sharing a bed, doing all that fake PDA, kissing on camera.
We couldn’t play boyfriend for a whole weekend and pretend everything was good when we got back home.
But this was Harlowe, my day one, my best friend.
If shit got blurred, surely we were grown enough to unblur it.
Our bond was solid. The only correct answer was no, but I couldn’t stand to let her down.
She looked like she was hanging on by a thread.
“Please, Hasheem. I’m all out of options. If I cancel now at the last minute, I’ll ruin a very big brand relationship. It’s Kellon and Phileigh Barnes! You know I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need this.”
I stared at her for a minute and then shook my head. “I swear you stay getting me into some shit, man. Pretend to be in love with you?”
“Well, it’s not really pretending. You do love me.”
I did love her. Next to my mom, she was the most important woman in my life, but it wasn’t romantic love. Nah. “This is different.”
“It is, and it isn’t.”
Before I could argue, she dropped to her knees in front of me and folded her hands dramatically. “Please, Hashy, please, please, please. I cannot fumble this bag . . . this opportunity. I’ll pay you back. I’ll split the money. I’ll—”
“Get up, Harlowe,” I said as I pulled her back up to her feet. “I don’t want no money from you.”
“Is that a no?”
“Nah. It’s a get yourself together. We gotta flight in the a.m.”
“Oh my God, Hasheem. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She gasped, shoulders collapsing in relief as she bounced up and down on her toes.
“Thank you! Thank you!” She swung her arms around me, damn near knocking the wind out of me.
I wrapped my arms around her, steadying her body and leaning into the hug.
Her chin fit in the crook of my neck perfectly. Yeah, this is a bad idea.
“Alright, man. Chill. You’re gonna break my damn back before we even get there.”
“Sorry. I’m just excited. You’re a lifesaver.” She pulled back, slowly, and found her footing. “Okay. Okay.” She glanced around her apartment. I have to pack, and we need outfits and scent pairings and content ideas. . .”
“There she goes,” I said under my breath.
“Huh?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head. “Look, if I’m flying out tomorrow, I gotta go home, pack, find my damn passport, and tell my chief I’m disappearing for a few days. You know I do have a job.”
“Right, right.” She nodded fast, hair bouncing. “Okay. I’ll email you all the info you need, the itinerary, the brand deck, all the talking points. And I’ll text you the flight confirmation. And the dress code. And—”
“Harlowe!”
She snapped her mouth shut. “Yeah?”
“I’m not reading a thirty-page PDF tonight,” I said. “Send the flight. Tell me what time to be here in the morning. I’ll figure the rest out when we land.”
“You’re right. Car service is picking us up at six thirty,” she said. “Flights at nine fifteen. If you’re here by like six, we’ll have time to vlog the ‘we’re leaving’ part before they get here.”
I stared at her. “You already planning content?”
“Of course! This is how I pay my bills,” she shot back. “Please don’t be late. Book nook Harlowe cannot be dragging your big firefighter ass through the airport.”
I snorted as I made my way to her front door. “I’m never late, and you know that.”
“Yeah, whatever.” She waved me off, following behind me. “Thank you again, Hashy, for real. I know this is . . . a lot.”
“Yeah,” I said, as she opened the door. “You owe me.”
“Put it on my tab.” She grinned as I stepped out onto the front porch, shaking my head.
“Yeah. Well, yo’ ass better start saving,” I tossed over my shoulder before she shut the front door behind me.
I glanced back, positive she was on the other side of that peephole watching me walk to my truck like usual.
I hit the fob on my truck and climbed inside.
For a second, I just sat there with my hands on the wheel, letting the quiet wrap around me.
The reality of what I’d just signed up for hit me.
I blew out a deep breath, dug my phone out of my pocket, and pulled up my chief’s number.
“Yeah,” I said out loud as the phone rang. “This is a bad decision.”
“Azalea County Fire Station. Richards.” My chief answered on the second ring. He sounded like I’d just woken him up.
“Hey, Chief. It’s Hasheem.”
“We got caller ID.” He snorted. “Your shift ended two hours ago, Hasheem. Don’t tell me you miss me already.”
“Opposite, actually. I need to put in for some personal days. I need the whole rest of the week until next Wednesday if you can swing it.”
“You want to take off?” I could hear the disbelief in his voice.
“Fellas!” he called to the background. “Hart wants to take off.” I shook my head as laughter erupted on the other end of the phone.
It was a running joke down at the station that I had perfect attendance.
I was never sick, never absent, always working overtime.
“A whole seven days?” he asked.
“Yeah. Taking a last-minute vacation to help a friend.”
“You picked a hell of a time, Jacobs.” He whistled. “The one time of year everybody in Azalea sets shit on fire trying to be romantic.”
“Can you just approve the days, old man?” I rubbed a hand over my face. I knew it was a busy weekend, but I also knew I was going on this trip regardless of his approval. I wasn’t calling to ask permission. I was calling to let him know I wouldn’t be there.
“For anybody else, I would say hell no,” he grumbled. “But you don’t ever ask for nothing, and you’re sitting on time anyway.”
“Appreciate you, Chief.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He laughed. “See you bright and early Thursday morning. Enjoy your little getaway.”
“See you, Chief.” I ended the call and dropped the phone into the cup holder before starting the car and pulling off. I had a vacation to pack for, even if this trip had “bad decisions” written all over it.