a wee bit.
Devin's dark fudge chocolate complexion glistened under the beaming sun. There was enough grease on his face to deep-fry a whole chicken, and his hair was cut into a mohawk. The scowl that he displayed made him look like a baby outlaw dressed in designer clothing.
“Listen closely, li’l grown boy. Now is not the time for this right here. C’mon!” I grabbed him by the arm and attempted to drag him inside.
“Let go of me!” He jerked his arm away and punched me in the stomach.
“Ouch!” I winced.
I was hotter than the concrete beneath my feet. I swept my hair out of my face and glared down at Devin with fury. It took every ounce of restraint in me not to knock him upside his head. This is what happens when men lay up with rats. They create baby mice.
I loved Blunt so I tolerated his disrespectful child, but Blunt would hear a mouthful from me concerning this ruthless li’l menace to society.
Rude Boy
Molaysia
After many threats, pleas, and bribes, Devin finally came into the building. My secretary was at her desk as we passed through. She glimpsed over at Devin and smiled.
“Whatchu lookin’ at?” he asked her with tears leaking from his eyes.
“Have some manners, child,” I scolded and snatched him by the arm. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Jones,” I said over my shoulder as we entered my office.
I flopped down on the brown leather office chair behind my computer. A photo of Blunt embracing me in his arms set in a small, white plastic frame on my desk. I looked at the picture and shook my head. This man was really taking me down through there with all of his foolishness.
Little Dennis The Menace sat in a chair directly in front of me. He was breathing heavily and rolling his eyes at me. His expression spoke a mouthful, but it wasn’t like I really cared.
With those thick eyebrows, dark complexion, and other defined features, he was the spitting image of his daddy. With that hard head and rude attitude, he would likely follow in his father's footsteps. He would end up breaking some young girl's heart and having no remorse over doing so.
I picked up the office phone to call Blunt. I hesitated before dialing his number because I suspected that my secretary was a certified ear hustler. I didn’t want my business floating throughout the school. That would've been too embarrassing.
“Devin can you get up and close the door for me, please?” I asked politely.
“Nope,” he growled, mean mugging me.
“Get up and close the door,” I demanded this time.
“I ain’t doing nothing. You can’t tell me what to do, hoe!”
My mouth dropped to the floor! I shot up out of my chair with murderous intentions. My hands were fixed to strangle the life out of him. No, Molaysia! No! my inner voice screamed.
I stalked right pass him and slammed the door shut myself. I sat back down and dialed Blunt’s number praying that I’d get an answer.
On the third ring his deep baritone voice uttered, “Whad’s poppin’, Shawdy?”
“Where are you?” I asked impatiently, crossing my legs to keep from hopping up and putting his foul-mouthed child in a grownup headlock. If he continued to hurl insults, Child Protective Services would be knocking on my door.
“You ain’t cute,” Devin interrupted.
I tapped my fingers on the desk and ignored him. "Blunt, where the hell are you?" I hissed.
“I’m out handling my shit, Baby Girl. What’s up wit’ it?” he replied.
“I need you to come get your son from my job. Chunuchi dropped him off earlier claiming that he got suspended, and she needed to get to work. Your child is very disrespectful and I can’t tolerate his behavior. Come and get him right now.”
“Mo’, why the fuck are you trippin’?"
"Now!" I repeated.
“Aight, I'm on my way,” he huffed.
"No, Blunt, I don't need for you to be on the way. I need for you to get here, asap."
I ended the call. If Blunt didn’t arrive in thirty minutes, I would develop an alternative plan to have his son removed from my office.
Adding Fire To The Flame
Molaysia
As I sat waiting for Blunt to come get his bae-bae kid, I stared out of the huge glass window beside my desk in deep thought. My nerves were shot and I kept thinking to myself that the sooner the little hard headed boy got out of my office, the better off I would be.
“Is my daddy on his way?” he had the audacity to