Chapter 8 Mehar
MEHAR
“You sure you’re ready for this?”
Serenity was leaning against the kitchen island in our penthouse, coffee in hand, watching me closely.
“No.” I grabbed my keys off the counter. “But it doesn’t matter. Zainab needs me to be ready.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I stopped. Looked at her.
Serenity and I had gotten close these past few months. Two women running from different demons, finding each other in the wreckage. She’d lost her marriage, her baby, her sense of self. I’d lost… everything I thought I knew about who I was supposed to be.
We understood each other in ways most people couldn’t.
“I’m not ready,” I admitted. “But my sister’s locked up for something she didn’t do, and her bakery is sitting there. She has employees she doesn’t want to let down. And her dream can’t die. I won’t let it.”
Serenity nodded slowly. “Then go hold it down. But call me if you need anything. I mean it.”
“I will.”
I’d been working side by side with my sister the last several months, helping her execute her vision.
I needed something to do after my marriage imploded.
Just like her, I had no education so I got my G.E.D.
and now I’m working for her. I have other dreams. I still want to go to college and start a business but for now I’m dedicated to Zainab.
She and Prime showed up for me and got me out of a bad situation. And then Serenity has become like a sister to me. We met months ago and instantly bonded.
Although sometimes she is reckless and wild as fuck. She’s still working for Brick City Crew underneath Mega, whom she also fuckin’. Mega is cool but he’s a lil crazy for my taste. The organization was dangerous but with Shadow aka Rashid out the way, things had simmered down.
There was just one problem. I glanced over at Serenity as she pulled out the white powder and sprinkled it on the counter. She then pulled out a hundred dollar bill, rolled it and snorted the line.
“You want some?” She offered, as she always did.
I can’t lie. I’ve tried it a couple of times, especially on nights when we went out to party. But she was more habitual with it. And that was starting to make me nervous.
“I’m good, girl. The only pick me up I need this morning is caffeine. And there’s plenty of it at Sweet Zin.”
“I feel you. I just wanted a lil hit because I was up all night doing accounting. I’m so tired. Working the books for a criminal enterprise is a lot different than what I was doing at Banks Reserve.”
“I bet,” I smirked. I’ve already said my piece to her on how I wanted her to go back to her brothers but it started a fight between us. I wanted peace, so I knew not to say anything again.
I slipped on my shoes and grabbed my purse. I was almost to the door when she called out: “Mehar?”
“Yeah?”
“She’d be proud of you. Zainab. For stepping up like this.”
“I hope so.”
Sweet Zin was everything Zainab dreamed it would be.
Pink and red everywhere. Retro vibes—checkered floors, vintage light fixtures, little café tables with fresh flowers. As soon as you walk in, you can’t help but smile. She’d poured her whole heart into this space, and it showed in every detail.
But the thing that got me every time was the photo by the front door.
Zainab and Zahara. Maybe ten years old. Matching ponytails, big smiles, arms around each other like nothing could ever separate them.
I touched the frame as I walked past. “I got you, sis,” I whispered. “Both of you.”
The team was already inside when I unlocked the door. Three employees Zainab had hired before everything went to hell.
Shayla and JoJo were in the back, prepping dough. Both culinary school graduates. Both talented. They’d been trained on all of Zainab’s recipes before she got arrested, and they took it seriously. Like they knew they were protecting something important.
Brooke was up front, wiping down the espresso machine. She was young—maybe twenty-two—with box braids and a nose ring and the kind of customer service personality that made people want to come back.
“Morning, Mehar,” Brooke said when she saw me.
“Morning. We ready?”
“Born ready.” She grinned. “First day back. Let’s get it.”
I flipped the sign on the door from CLOSED to OPEN and took a breath.
This was for Zainab. For Zahara. For the little girls in that photo who deserved better than what life gave them.
The first few hours were busy. Word had spread that Sweet Zin was reopening, and people showed up. Some were regulars who’d been waiting. Some were curious after seeing the news about Zainab’s arrest. A few were clearly just there for the drama, hoping to catch some gossip.
I didn’t care why they came. As long as they bought something.
By noon, the rush had slowed down. I was behind the counter helping Brooke restock the pastry case when the bell above the door chimed.
I looked up.
And there was Thad.
He walked in like he had all the time in the world. Fresh haircut. Black Amiri jeans that fit just right, fitted black tee, white Alexander McQueens. That same gold chain catching the light.
And those eyes. Finding me immediately. Like he knew exactly where I’d be standing.
“You gotta be kidding me,” I muttered.
Brooke glanced between us. “You know him?”
“Unfortunately.”
Thad strolled up to the counter, that smirk already in place.
He glanced at the photo by the door. “That your sister?”
“Yeah. Both of them.”
“Cute.” He said it casual. Easy. Then turned back to me like it didn’t mean nothing.
“Nice spot. Cute. Very… pink.”
“Can I help you?”
“Damn. That’s how you greet customers?”
“That’s how I greet you.” He put his hand on his chest like I’d wounded him.
“Cold.”
“Are you gonna order something or just stand there?”
“Depends. What’s good?”
“Everything.”
“Then give me one of them red velvet joints.” He pointed at the signature red velvet cinnamon rolls in the case. “And a…” He squinted at the menu board. “A cap-a-CEE-no.”
I stared at him. “A what?”
“Cap-a-cee-no.” He said it slower, like I was the one who didn’t understand.
“You mean a cappuccino?”
“That’s what I said.”
“No, you said cap-a-CEE-no. Like it’s a new Pokemon or something.”
Brooke turned away, shoulders shaking. Trying not to laugh.
Thad’s smirk cracked into an actual smile. “Aight, you got jokes. Just make my coffee.”
I made his cappuccino—pronouncing it correctly under my breath the whole time—and handed it over with the red velvet roll.
He didn’t leave.
Instead he sat down at one of the little café tables near the window. Stretched out like he would be here for a while. Took a bite of the cinnamon roll and made a sound that was almost inappropriate.
“Damn. This is good.”
“I know.”
“Your sister made this recipe?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s talented.”
“I know that too.”
He took another bite. Watched me while he chewed. I went back to restocking the case, trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes on me.
It didn’t work.
“So,” I said finally, turning around. “You just happened to be in the neighborhood?”
“Nope.”
“Then what are you doing here, Thad?”
“Came to see you.”
“That’s called stalking.”
“I won’t deny it.”
I blinked. Wasn’t expecting him to just… admit it.
He leaned back in his chair, cappuccino in hand. “I told you I’d be seeing more of you. I meant that.”
“And I told you I don’t trust easy.”
“I remember.” His eyes held mine. “But I’m patient.”
Something moved in my chest. I ignored it.
“What do you want?”
“I’m having a party tonight. I want you to come.”
“A party.”
“Yeah. At Upstage. It’s a new spot. I’m part owner.” He shrugged. “Thought you might need a break from all this.”
I gestured around the bakery. “I’m a little busy.”
“You’re not gonna be here at midnight.”
“My sister is in jail. I’m not really in the partying mood.”
He set down his coffee and leaned forward. Those dark eyes locked on mine.
“Look. I get it. Your sister’s going through something, and you feel like you gotta put your whole life on pause.
But you standing here running yourself into the ground ain’t gonna get her out any faster.
” He tilted his head. “When’s the last time you did something for yourself?
Not for her. Not for this bakery. Just… for you? ”
I didn’t have an answer.
“That’s what I thought.” He stood up, pulled out his wallet, dropped a fifty on the counter. “Bring your girl Serenity. Make it a whole thing. You deserve one night to breathe.”
“How do you know about Serenity?”
“I been asking about you. I know you live with my cousin.” He walked toward the door, then turned back. “I’ll send y’all a car around 10:30. I’ll text you when the driver’s on the way. ”
“You don’t have my number.”
He pulled out his phone. Read off my number like it was nothing.
My mouth fell open. “How did you—”
“I told you.” That smirk again. “I been asking about you.”
“That’s creepy.”
“That’s thorough.” He pushed the door open. “See you tonight, Mehar.”
He walked out.
I watched him through the window. Watched him climb into that red Porsche and pull off without looking back.
Brooke appeared beside me. “So… we not gonna talk about that?”
“Nothing to talk about.”
“Girl. That man basically admitted to stalking you, knew your number without you giving it to him, and you didn’t call the cops. That’s something.”
“Shut up and restock the napkins.”
She laughed and walked away.
I looked at the fifty on the counter. Then at the door where he’d disappeared.
A party. Tonight. With Thad.
I should say no. I knew I should say no. My sister was locked up, about to be shipped across the country for a murder she didn’t commit. Going to a party felt wrong. Selfish.
But he wasn’t wrong either. I’d been running on empty for days. Barely sleeping. Barely eating. Just moving from one thing to the next.
One night. A few hours. That wasn’t betraying Zainab.
That was letting off a lil steam.
I pulled out my phone and texted Serenity.
You busy tonight?
Three dots. Then:
Serenity: Depends. What you got in mind?
Me: Your cousin invited us to a party.
Serenity: Who?
Me: Thad.
A long pause. Then:
Thad???
Yeah…
Girl. He fine but he’s… a lot. You sure about this?
I chewed my lip. Typed. Deleted. Typed again.
Me: No. But I’m going anyway.
Serenity: Lol say less. I’m in. Somebody gotta keep an eye on you.
I put my phone away and got back to work.
But my mind wasn’t on cinnamon rolls anymore.
It was on tonight. On Thad. On whatever I was walking into.
There was something about him that lit me up inside. I wanted to fight it and just stay focused but he was so fine. And cocky. And arrogant. I was drawn in. But what did Serenity mean by he’s a lot?