38. Corinthians
Corinthians
Igot out of the car, locked it, and walked through the parking lot of Psalms shop.
The sky was overcast, making me feel like it was going to start raining any second, so I walked faster than usual.
Just as my hand touched the cool glass, I felt the first drop of rain.
I said a quick prayer of thanks as the chimes over the door rattled when I pushed it open.
The smell of dirt, water, and the sweetness of flowers filled my lungs.
No matter how many times I walked in here, it always amazed me that my sister could grow and care for plants the way that she did.
Psalms’ green thumb was a talent that superseded anything anyone could have taught her.
It was instinctual and done from a place of love.
“Hey,” she said, coming from the back. As always, she wore her green smock with her company logo on the front. I looked down at her feet and shook my head. No matter how many times we fussed at her, she never wore shoes. She said she liked the feel of dirt on her feet. “What are you doing here?”
I looked up to see her watching me, her eyes cautious yet questioning.
Psalms and I never danced around a situation before.
This was new for us. Sighing, I rounded the counter, pulled out two chairs, sat in one, and pointed to the other.
My sister, my very headstrong sister, looked at the chair, then at me.
For the first time in a long time, I saw her as the little girl who feared everything, and my eyes watered.
She may have been grown, owned her own home, and run a successful business, but she would always be Bug, my little sister, who needed me.
“Sit down,” I said, pointing to the chair again.
“Please.” Once she was situated, I waited.
Psalms always gave me time to process what I was feeling, and I was going to do the same for her.
“Tell me how you feel when you’re ready.
It doesn’t matter what time of day it is.
You can either call or show up, and I will listen. ”
“Even if you don’t like what I have to say?” she asked.
I didn’t have to like what she had to say, but I was going to listen because her opinion mattered. I told her that, and her shoulders dropped like she was no longer carrying a burden.
We turned and looked when the chimes above her door started. The door opened, and Wednesday stood there, a mug on his face and a bag of flowers in his hand.
“Psalms.” He held up the bag and shook his head. “This isn’t what we agreed on.”
“It is,” she replied with a soft laugh as she shook her head.
“It’s not,” Wednesday insisted. “We said blues and whites.” He pulled a flower from the bag. “This is neither.”
“How do you know? You can't even see color?” she replied.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I took it out to see a text from Uri.
Uri: You want to have lunch?
Me: Yes.
Uri: I’m on my way to get you.
Me: I’m at Psalms shop.
Uri: My office isn’t far from her shop. I can come get you.
Me: I drove. I can meet you at your office.
Me: If that’s okay.
*Uri shared his location*
Me: I’m on my way.
I stood, picked up my purse, and dropped my phone into it. Psalms and Wednesday were still going back and forth. I patted her on the shoulder as I passed her. She nodded in acknowledgment, then crossed her arms and glared at Wednesday.
“Hold on, Corinthians,” Wednesday said when I got to the door. I turned to look at him. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“You don’t have to,” I said, shaking my head.
Wednesday ignored my protest and approached me. He opened the door, then turned to look at Psalms. “Don’t think this conversation is over. When I come back, we will talk. And if you lock this muthafucka, I’ll smash that damn window.” He pointed to her floor-to-ceiling window in front of her shop.
“You’ll replace it just like you did the last time,” Psalms replied.
We walked out of the building, and we were barely away from the door when we heard the locks engage.
I looked through the window to see Psalms standing at the counter, her phone in her hand and a smile on her face.
Wednesday chuckled, then took his phone from his pocket, swiped it, then put it to his ear.
“Yeah, it's me. I’m about to smash this fuckin’ window again.
You might as well start heading this way,” he said.
He looked over at me and shrugged. “Nah, I’m going to pay for it just like last time.
” He stopped talking and nodded. “Yeah. Appreciate it.” He hung up and put his phone in his pocket.
“You not gonna ask me what’s that about? ”
We got to my car, and I put my finger over the sensor to unlock the doors. “Nope,” I answered him as I opened the door. “You’re grown. You know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“You know most big sisters would be ready to burn down the city about a nigga threatening to smash in her sister's business windows,” he laughed.
I tossed my purse into the car and turned to face him.
“Wednesday, would you like for me to threaten you?” I asked, tilting my head to the left.
“Because if you do, then I can tell you right now that I won't. This thing between you and my sister, it’s not my business unless she comes to me crying.” I got in my car, pressed the push-to-start, closed the door, then rolled down the window.
“Cross threatened me,” he replied with a smile. “Exodus, Judge, and Krude warned me.” He used his right hand to block the sun from hitting his eyes as he talked to me. “You’re telling me as her big sister you won't do either?”
“Nope,” I answered, shaking my head.
“Why not?”
“Because she hasn’t cried yet,” I told him. “The last man who did, mourned his entire family, and we sat in the back of the funeral watching.”
I put my car in drive and pulled off, leaving Wednesday in the parking lot to think about what I’d said.
I didn’t believe in threats, not when it came to the people I loved.
I got to the end of the parking lot, pulled up the location Uri sent me, and followed it.
His office was less than ten minutes from Psalms' shop, which meant it was five from my shop.
“Hello?” I answered my phone as I pulled into the parking lot.
“Don’t park in the lot; drive down to the garage. They will let you through. Park on the third level, next to my car,” Uri instructed.
“Okay,” I said, then hung up.
I did what he said; once my car was parked, I looked around.
There was only Uri’s car and two others on this level.
I got out of my Jeep, grabbed my purse, and then walked towards the elevator.
I tried calling Uri back, but he didn’t answer.
Instead of worrying about it, I pressed the elevator call button and waited.
I had no idea where I was going, but common sense told me to check in with the receptionist.
The elevator doors opened, and Uri stood there, dressed in a tan suit, black button-down, black tie, and matching shoes. He looked good as hell.
“Hey,” he greeted me with a smirk, then put his hand out. I willingly took it and stepped onto the elevator.
My free hand went to his chest, and I looked up at him. The second I touched him, his bracelet started to beep. I put my hand over his heart; its rhythm matched the bracelet's sound. “Hi,” I replied. “I tried calling you.”
“I-I-I-I-I-I-I left mm-m-m-m-m-m-my phone o-o-o-o-o-o-n my des-de-de-de-de-desk,” he said, then licked his lips. “I was coming to you.”
“Okay.” I watched as he licked his lips again. His tongue moved slowly, and damn it if I didn’t want to taste it. Typically, Uri was the aggressor with us, but today I wanted to be the aggressor. I lifted to my tiptoes and nibbled on his bottom lip.
“C-c-c-c-c-cori.”
“Hmmm?” I replied as I kissed under his chin.
His beard was starting to thicken, and I loved the feel of it on my skin.
Uri let go of my hand and held on to my waist. I nipped at his Adam’s apple, and I felt him shiver.
That was the biggest turn-on I’d ever experienced in my life.
He stuttered my name again, and I smiled. “Yes, Uri?”
“We ain’t gonna make it to lunch if you keep this up,” he told me. I laughed and stepped back. His eyes were dark, his breathing deep, and I could tell this look of barely hanging on was different than the other.
“Would that be a bad thing?” I asked. I don’t know why the urge to do more was so strong, but it was.
But I was also scared. That wasn’t something I could easily get over because I was horny.
That would take time. Even though Uri was a patient man, I wasn’t dumb enough to think he wouldn’t have questions, especially when he saw the brand on my stomach.
That was a conversation I wasn’t ready for.
He wiped his hand over his mouth and nodded. “Yeah,” he answered, and my brow went up. “I got something special planned for you. My hard dick can't be the head I’m thinking with when I’m trying to show you this shit ain’t a mistake.”
“Uri,” I sighed and shook my head. I hated that I used that word to describe what we were doing.
“It’s cool.”
The elevator door opened, and he let go of my waist, took my hand, and guided me off and onto the rooftop. There was a table set up in the middle of the rooftop with covered plates waiting for us. Uri helped me with my seat, kissed my cheek, then rounded the table and sat down.
“You planned this in the short time it took me to get here?” I asked.
“No,” he answered. “I already h-h-h-h-h-h-had it planned. I was j-j-j-j-j-j-j-just going to bring it to y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-your shop, but s-s-s-s-s-since you said you-u-u-u-u-u-u would come he-e-e-e-e-e-ere, I pivoted to this.” He looked around before bringing his eyes back to me. “Is it okay?”
“It’s perfect.”