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“Yes, ma’am.”

“American?” I laughed.

“Yes.”

“Oh Lord.” She jumped up trying to do a church shout and fell over in my lap. Instead of stopping the shenanigans, she faked passed out as if I couldn’t tell her ass was faking.

“Juanita. Get your ass up.” She opened her eyes, saw I was looking at her, and sat up.

“My bad. I was slain in the spirit.” Her ass did another dip and shoulder hunch before moving back to her side. “You not playing, are you? You really going to give me all of that money?”

“Yes. Under one condition.”

“Hold on, now. I appreciate you, but don’t get to thinking you done bought you a piece of this ass.” I was not about to entertain that shit.

“No more scamming. Just be a mama. You got enough money now that you don’t have to keep doing the shit you been doing. Take care of yourself, take care of your daughter, and enjoy life.”

“Okay.”

“Just so we’re clear, your daughter didn’t get you that money. Your information was valuable, and you earned every dollar.” She nodded.

“And my daughter and your money didn’t get you an explanation. You standing on your principles did.”

“Then we understand each other.” I stood, and she did too.

“Yeah, I guess we do.” She walked me to the door, and when I got on the porch, she grabbed me and wrapped her arms around me. “Thank you, Anton.”

“You’re welcome. Oh, and it’s up to you to decide if you tell your daughter about this visit, but as far as I’m concerned, I was never here.” I walked off and got in my car. Dialing a food spot around my house, I called, put in an order, and headed my ass home.

Simone “Bubbles” Stanton

I was starting to see why rich people never wanted to leave their houses. Anton had been gone for a couple of hours again today, and it hadn’t crossed my mind to leave. I hadn’t even gone downstairs yet because there was so much stuff to see and go through upstairs. I was nosy and not ashamed. One thing about me, I was going to mind somebody else’s business if they left me alone long enough. He already gave me a tour, but showing somebody your house and letting them go through your shit was two completely different things. You could learn a lot about a nigga from what he kept behind closed doors. Medicine cabinets, locked rooms, and closets. Fuck around and go looking through his underwear drawer and find a vibrating dick. Now you standing there realizing your man got a panty drawer. So, here I was talking to Taffy while I looked through his watch collection.

“You there by yourself?”

“Yeah. He keeps leaving me here talking about make yourself at home.”

“That’s because he don’t know your ass.”

“What you mean by that?” My eyes got big as I picked up a Patek.

“What you doing right now? I bet you going through his shit.” I put the watch down and closed the drawer.

“Girl, you don’t know me,” I said as I headed into the closet.

“Mmmm hmmm.” Jesus. This man had enough clothes to open his own store. Everything had its own section, and most of it looked like it had never been worn. I flipped one of the tags over and damn near passed out.

“Gahhh damn! This shirt costs more than my car!” Taffy gave a knowing laugh.

“I thought you wasn’t going through his shit.”

“I’m not. I’m just looking. Plus, he had to know I would do this. Niggas know bitches are nosy, and he still said I’ll be here alone a lot. I need something to do to entertain myself.” Anton had some nice shit. I made sure everything was back in its place before leaving out and going to the next room.

“So, if you’re going to be over there, what you gone do when Peanut calls? That man already told you he don’t play like that.” I was regretting telling her that. I hated when that hoe was right. Opening the dressers in the guest room, I saw they were empty and closed them back. I took a seat on the bed to have this conversation. Anytime she brought up Peanut, it never ended quickly.

“If he calls, I’m going to step outside. Anton said don’t answer in his house. He never said shit about the yard.” I found my lil joke funny, but of course she didn’t.

“Keep on, Bubbles. You playing with fire, and he don’t strike me as someone who likes to get burned. He got you staying in his house, buying you shit, treating you like you his woman, and you have yet to tell him that you have no intentions on leaving Peanut.”