Chapter 3
“…this coochie like a crouching tiger
My shit is guaranteed to take you higher
This is real; a bitch ain’t braggin’
I just want some of your hidden dragon…”
Nodding my head to the beat of a certified Bambina classic, I stood in my kitchen making a sandwich since I didn’t manage to eat anything at the team party. Turkey and Swiss on honey wheat bread didn’t have shit on some ribs, but I was paying for spending the whole day staring at a woman I’d never get to know know, let alone be with. What grown-ass man sits and daydreams about a woman like that?
Me.
That’s who.
I leaned against the counter as I took a bite of the sandwich and shook my head.
Damn, I wish I’d eaten some ribs.
The music on my phone stopped, replaced by a ringtone pouring through the connected speaker in my living room. I took another bite of the sandwich and shuffled toward my phone, taking my time because no matter who it was, I wasn’t in the mood to talk to them, hadn’t been in a long-ass while.
By the time I’d picked it up from the coffee table, the call had ended and another one was coming through from the same unknown number. Spam? Scam likely? Telemarketer? It didn’t matter. I wasn’t answering anyway.
Then a text popped up on the screen: Mr. Rapp, please answer your phone.
The fuck?
Another text popped up from the same number: Calling you again.
And then another call.
Perplexed as hell, I answered this one.
“Hello?” I barked into the phone.
“Mr. Rapp?” a soft, feminine voice returned.
“Yeah. Who dis? How you get my number?”
“It’s-uh…this is Ishmia Désir.”
I frowned. “Who?”
“You’re a fan of mine, but you don’t know my government name, Mr. Rapp?”
I almost dropped my phone, but instead, I just held it up to my ear with my jaw on the floor.
“Hello?” she said after a few moments of muteness from me.
“Uh…are you serious?” I finally said.
“About what?”
“About who you are? You’re Bianca Bambina? Is this a prank or something?”
I heard her sigh before saying, “I’d prefer you called me Ishmia.”
“Okay…uh…”
“Would it help if I FaceTimed you?”
“Help what?”
“Help you believe I’m me.”
“Uh, yeah.”
The FaceTime notification popped up, and I stared at it for a second before realizing I needed to accept it. I did, holding my breath until her face popped up on the screen, signature sunglasses and all. In response, I dropped my phone.