Chapter 3 #2
“Frankie please. That lady left home when she was nine. My grandmummy raised her here. The only reason she sent Jabari over there was to prove to people back home she wasn’t going soft as a mother.”
“… Huh?”
“And! Daddy made such a big deal about it that the only way he’d compromise is if Bari got sent to a private, prep school with the best football program.
He didn’t even stay on their campus! They paid a family over ￡5000 a month to let him stay in their guesthouse.
And Mommy was so paranoid the whole time, she flew there months later, begging for him to come back and act right. ”
I blink slowly. “… ￡5000?”
“Girl, tell me about it. Loans were taken out! I almost had to quit theatre to start working to maintain the house. But luckily, their investment paid off. He got a contract with a team and paid them back. Even bought them a house. No wonder he acts like he’s better than me.”
I shrug. “That arrogance didn’t just come out of nowhere. Your parents raised and nurtured it. He’s spoiled!”
Zaza lets out a little laugh. “You’re not wrong.”
I lean in. “But you gotta stand up for yourself, Zee. What did I tell you? Your parents control you like that because you let them. You aren’t a child. You’re an adult.”
She blows out hard, cheeks puffing. “I know, I know.”
“Seriously. When your mum tried to get on my case about my tattoos, what did I do? I told her respectfully, it’s not her place. Love your mum to death, but she can’t tell me what to do.”
Zaza gives me a flat look. “Yeah, but you ain’t her kid, are ya? My mum would slap the taste out my mouth.”
“Just say it respectfully.”
She snorts. “Ha. You don’t know anything about African parents.”
“Oi. I got a Jamaican mother, innit? They’re just as intense.”
“I know, I know. I just—” She starts. “I don’t wanna disappoint her. But she’s so hard to please.”
“There is no point in being a people pleaser. People are impossible to please.”
Before she can argue, the waiter swings by to pour our waters and take our usual order we’d jokingly christened the ‘Free for Frankie’ because Benny never charged us for it.
Old flames have perks, I guess.
Once he’s gone, Zaza leans forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But Frankie, listen. When Bari called me to talk in the hallway, he asked about you.”
Hm. I figured that was the case but still, I was curious. “Why?”
She shrugs in response. “I don’t know.”
My face draws up. “Well, did he say anything about me?”
Zaza hesitates. “He said you look different.”
I scoff then snort under my breath. “Yeah, no shit. I ain’t a kid anymore.”
She fiddles with her straw, frowning. “He tried to pass it off as curiosity, but I think it’s more than that.”
“More how?”
“He’s… he’s weird about you.”
I arch a brow. “Weird?”
“Yeah, weird. Like, he kept staring all through dinner. Don’t even try to tell me you didn’t notice.”
“I noticed.” I take another sip, biting back a grin. “I just assumed he was pissed I was acting like I didn’t know him.”
“I mean, that’s part of it. But it’s more too, I can tell.”
I cock an eyebrow. “You’re making no sense.”
She sighs. “Look. All I can say is—he’s not as confident as he pretends to be. Any idiot can see he’s using that as a front for whatever reason.”
“True.”
“When you shut him down, it was like something shifted. He wasn’t as confident anymore. He actually shut the fuck up for once.”
“Wow,” I laugh. “You really paid attention to everything.”
She shrugs again. “You gotta when you’re raised the way I was.”
I nod in understanding. “I get that. But what does all this have to do with me?”
“Knowing my brother? When he feels like people aren’t paying him enough attention, he’ll do one of two things: completely shut them out and ignore their existence…” she trails off.
“Or?” I press.
“Or—become obsessed with them acknowledging him.”
I stare at her, then scoff, then laugh outright. “Excuse me, but what?”
My friend has lost it.
“You laugh now, but I’ve seen it. With classmates, teachers, our parents. Even women.”
She fixes me with a pointed stare at that last word.
“No,” I shake my head. “No. No. Not me.”
“Yes you, stupid. He’s gonna try to get you to. I know it.”
This is so amusing to me.
“Well, he’s only gonna hurt his feelings more. I’m not interested.”
She folds her arms, unconvinced. “You say that, but Bari’s persistent. Once he gets something in his head—”
“Then let him drive himself mad.” I lean back into the booth and fold my arms as well to mimic her. “Me not remembering him? That’s already making him crazy. Anything he does to get a reaction out of me will only make it worse.”
Zaza studies me for a long second, chewing her lip.
Does she really think…?
“Chinaza,” I sit up. “You really think I’d go for it?”
“No. It’s not that. It’s just…he’s not a terrible, irredeemable monster. He’s just a cocky arsehole. If not feeding into it makes him dial it back a bit, maybe we could be close again.”
Her voice softens on that last bit, and I catch something deeper behind her words.
Zaza’s childhood had always been in his shadow—everyone watching Bari, praising him, expecting him to shine.
She got used to people using her as a shortcut to get closer to him, or worse, forgetting her entirely.
I’d been there through it. That’s why I am her safe place.
Her one person who never chose him over her. No matter what I felt before.
“Do you even want that?” I ask carefully.
Her eyes dart around the room in thought. “Maybe.”
Interestingly, I’m actually shocked by her answer. Rebuilding the relationship between her and her brother is something she never discussed with me before. Well, if lowering that ego is what needs to happen to make my best friend happy, so be it.
“Hm. Okay.” I nod, already plotting ways to tear his arrogant arse apart.
For Zaza, of course.
“Frankie,” Za eyes me.
“What?”
“This is between me and my brother, okay? I don’t want you involved with him at all.”
Damn it. She saw right through me.
Well, I see through her also.
I scoff. “You really think he’s gonna lure me in somehow.”
Her tone softens, almost pleading. “You laugh, but I’ve seen him do it before.
It’s sneaky and slow at first, then next thing you know, you’re caught up.
It always happens. But you’re different from all the other people because you’re all I’ve got.
You’re my only real friend who never tried to use me to get to him, or chose him over me like my parents do. You don’t understand, Frankie.”
My defense stills a little.
What she doesn’t know is, I do understand. I’m very aware of Jabari’s allure and the charm that comes with it. I’ve been aware of that charm for the majority of my childhood and not once did it ever get in the way of Chinaza and the way I feel about our friendship.
The girl had a charm of her own.
I reach across the table and touch her hand lightly. “I’m not interested in him, Za. You’re my girl. He’s your brother. It would be weird as hell. So you can stop worrying.”
Zaza exhales, finally unclenching. “Good. Because if you even think about it—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I warn with a fake gag. “It ain’t happening.”
Our food arrives then, and before I could so much as stab my salad, the waiter leans in.
“Benny wants to see you.”
“Christ,” I groan, dropping my fork. “Can I at least taste the damn food?”
Zaza smirks, already reaching for the chips. “You’d better go before he brings his bald arse out here.”
“Ugh.” I roll my eyes before getting up and grabbing my pint for the journey. Might as well keep hydrated.
I weave through the bar, slipping past as the bartenders greet me and push into the kitchen. The smell of grease and onions clings heavily in the air. Past the clanging pans, Benny’s office door is cracked open, a golden strip of light spilling out.
I knock once before nudging it open. “Benny baby, you could’ve at least let me taste the food.”
He looks up from his desk with a grin.
“Food’ll still be there,” he says. “But I needed you now.”
“Mm.” I step inside, shutting the door behind me. “That sounds like I’m in trouble.”
Benny’s eyes drag over me like they’ve done a hundred times before.
Oh Benny. Benny, Benny, Benny.
Divorced, owns a bar, two years of casual, no-strings hooking up, wrapped in an awkward friendship. These are words I’d use to describe Benjamin. Because outside of that, I don’t know much about him. Well, I don’t know much about any of the men I rotate.
“What’s so urgent this time?” I tease, setting my pint down on the edge of his desk.
Benny leans back in his chair. “You left my place so quickly last week, I thought you wouldn’t come in anymore.”
I sigh, dropping into the chair across from him and stretching my legs out. “I had work.”
He arches a brow. “You own the company, Francine.”
“Co-own,” I correct, rolling my eyes.
“Tuh.” He waves me off like the word makes any difference. “I know you better than that, Francine.”
“Yeah? And what do you know about me?”
His eyes narrow. “You’re losing interest.”
Fuck. Not this shit again.
I tilt my head, innocently. “That’s not true, babe.”
“It isn’t?” He pushes. “I’m not stupid, Frankie. A young, attractive woman like you doesn’t sleep with divorced single dads like me without some alternative motive. So when you find someone else to give you what you want, it becomes obvious you’ve checked out.”
I look at him in confusion. “You have kids?”
His fingers tap the table impatiently. “Two boys, you’ve met them before.”
Fuck me.
“Exactly!” I play it off. “Why would I meet your kids if I’m losing interest?”
He isn’t buying it. “Are you sleeping with someone else?”
No, I’m seeing five other people actually.
“Worry about yourself, babe.”
“Answer my question, Francine.”
“Benny,” I drag. “Don’t be like this. It’s not helping anyone, is it? Let’s just move on, okay? What do you want me to say to make it better?”
He examines me. “Say you’ll come over tonight.”
Christ.