Page 3 of Surrender to Love

Black is straight though. He’s been working for us since Tre and I bought and took over Bako Repairs from Asali seven years ago. Each of us brothers have our own shit. For me, it’s fixing cars. I’ve been doing it since I could hold a ratchet and I spent most of my teenage years in this shop. So when Asali said he was retiring, I knew I had to finally get out of the streets and own this. I was thirty and too fucking old to still be doing dumb shit. Tre is good with the book shit—inventory, human resources, and budgeting. He handled all of that shit for Asali. When I offered to buy the shop, Tre went in with me. I’m the majority owner but we work well together.

He will never admit it but I think the real reason he took over with me was to watch me and make sure I stayed out of the streets. Me and my brothers are no angels. Even Quintus, the lawyer, got into some trouble when we were growing up, but Deuce and I gave Shuga the biggest migraines.

Before moving to Brunswick Meadows, we grew up in the D-Ville Projects, so it was only natural that we gravitated toward DP and the gang life. Shit, when I joined, I was secretly selling weed with one of the founders, Kassir. While it will always be from the cradle to the casket with my DP brothers, I’m not in it like I used to be. Hell, we have all grown the fuck up. My boy Kassir is married now and has a family and I have my business. My affiliation is really limited to the annual block party and sponsoring and supporting our streetball team, the Ballerz. All that other wild and street shit, I outgrew and really let it go the day I bought Bako Repairs.

As soon as Black pulls out of the bay, Lucky, another of my mechanics, grabs one of the seven job ticket holders from the work-wall by the door. They all hang in order of service needed. A silver Avalanche needing a radiator is next. While he gets the truck, I walk inside to see what’s up with and if I do, in fact, know the female inside.

Through the door, I make an immediate right turn down the hall toward the office, bypassing the front desk for now. Before walking into the office, I wash my hands. Tre is at his desk, pecking loud as hell on his laptop. As good as he is with this bookkeeping shit, the nigga can’t type for shit. His big ass uses two fucking fingers and pounds them like a damn fool.

“Did you see the new receptionist?” he asks without looking up.

“Yeah and I think I know her.”

He stops typing then looks up. “From where?” he asks.

“Shit. I wish I knew but I’m pretty sure I fucked her. If I did, she can’t work here.”

“Nigga, she’s hired. Today is her first day. I can’t just fire her like that. That’s a whole HR nightmare I don’t want to have to handle.”

“Why the fuck not? I don’t need that shit here at the shop. If we fucked, she’s gone.”

“Bruh, you slang dick all over the city. How the hell I’m supposed to know who you do or don’t fuck if yo’ ass can’t even remember?”

“I used to do that. Kyrah killed that behavior,” I say, referring to my girl.

“Well, she might not remember you anyway,” he counters.

“Yeah, pretend like that shit’s true,” I scoff as I take a bottle of Energized Sports from the fridge then sit behind my desk. Any woman I’ve fucked remembers a nigga and that’s a bet.

“We can’t fire her. Having Shuga here trying to fill in these last two weeks was too fucking much. I swear she gave everybody discounts and shit. We lost too much money and temps cost a grip.”

He’s telling the truth though. Shuga offered to help us out after our last receptionist quit and we agreed. I appreciate her for stepping in but her heart is bigger than our need to make money and she was definitely discounting our tickets. She can’t come back. But is having a woman I potentially fucked here better?

“What’s ol’ girl’s name?” I ask, hoping that might help me remember.

“Matika,” he says, then lifts some paper on his desk. “Matika Perry.”

“Matika,” I repeat but that still doesn’t help. “Fuck,” I grit. “I can’t call it. I don’t remember that name.”

“Then take yo’ ass out there and see, but I’m serious. She’s staying, whether you fucked or not. She’s leaving today at five. This was just a quick orientation today. Her first full day is tomorrow and she’s opening with you.”

Tre and I take turns opening and closing to keep the hours fair. Since Saturdays are our busiest days, we open at seven and I open all Saturdays. He does Mondays because I hate fucking Mondays. The rest of the days we plan week to week.

“I don’t need this shit,” I utter, then stand.

I’m already trying to convince Kyrah to be mine on some real shit, not just fucking. After two years of being friends with benefits, I’m over it. In my eyes, we passed friends a few months in and I’m trying to lock her in with me. She’s everything I want and need in a lady and I know she feels the same. She’s just guarded as fuck. Her ex-husband fucked her over bad and she’s guarding her heart when I just want her to give it to me. Having Matika working here isn’t going to help my plight.

Shaking my head, I leave the office and walk toward the reception desk. She’s standing behind it, wiping the counter. When she spots me, she stops and lifts her head. Her little smile spreads.

Although I still don’t recognize her, she most definitely remembers me.

Damn…we fucked.

Playing the shit off, I extend my hand for a shake and say, “I’m Shiro Bako, the other owner. You can call me Shiro.”

Her big ass smile somehow gets even bigger, then she starts blinking fast. “I know you, Shiro, and you know me.”

Muthafuck!