So Gone - By Jennifer Luckett Page 0,41

a mess,” I remarked. “You can go ahead and give your friend my number, but please make it clear that I've just come out of a relationship, and I'm not looking to jump into another one anytime soon.”

“Will do,” promised Leesha.

“Toodles.”

“Muah.”

I pulled my keyboard closer to me and began going over the school's budget for the upcoming semester. I was busy crunching numbers when my cell phone began to vibrate with an incoming call.

The photo that I had saved of Blunt standing by his ride in his superstar attire showed up identifying the caller. I pressed ignore and sent him to voicemail. Seconds later a text came through that read: Baby a nigga missing you. Can we move pass this.

I ignored the text and started back working.

Towards the end of the day, as I was wrapping up my work, my secretary knocked on my office door and informed me that I had a special delivery. I stood up, stretched, and then followed her out into the outer office. The delivery guy stood there holding a teddy bear and a bouquet of yellow, white, and pink flowers.

“Hello,” I spoke, smiling at him pleasantly.

“Are you Molaysia Alexander?” he asked.

“Yes, I am.”

He handed me the gift and asked me to sign for it. I smiled as I signed my name, while wondering who had thought enough of me to make my day.

I pranced back into my office, reading the attached card as I closed the door behind me. Baby, please forgive my transgressions. They are mistakes of the mind, not of the heart. In matters of love, you are my one and only. Love and kisses, Blunt.

I placed the flowers on my desk. They were beautiful, but they could not make me forget about what had happened. I doubted if an Iyanla Vanzant session could fix our broken relationship.

Driving through my neighborhood on my way home, I noticed that the “for sale” sign was gone from my elderly neighbor's yard. He had put his bricked three-bedroom home up for sale six months ago and moved into an assistant living apartment. I wondered who my new neighbors would be, and made a mental note to get them a present welcoming them to the community.

I pulled into my garage anticipating a nice long bubble bath with soft music playing in the background. After a trying day at the school, it always felt good to come home and pamper myself. And that's exactly what I did.

A Nice Interruption

Molaysia

Later, sometime after six, I was in the kitchen preparing a supper of spaghetti, salad, sweet peas, and garlic bread when my doorbell rang.

I moved away from the stove, washed my hands, and dried them on a paper towel, before I answered the door. “Who's there?” I asked.

“Rocco, I'm your new neighbor.” The voice was deep and masculine, but not scary.

I stood on my tippy-toes and looked through the peephole. A tall, handsome man stood there with a child at his side. I unlocked the door and opened it.

“Hi, I hope I'm not interrupting you. I saw you pull in a while ago, and I wanted to come over and introduce myself and give you one of my business cards. Maybe my services will come in handy.”

I saw his lips moving, but I didn’t hear one word come from his mouth. He was gorgeous. He appeared to be at least 6’2, chocolate as a Snickers bar, well built, with a shaven head. I was in a zone.

Once I came out of my trance, I looked down at the little girl who was standing beside him. Her hair was in two ponytails, and she had a dimpled smile. I guessed that she was two, maybe three years old. Looking over her head, I noticed a woman across the street stepping to a u-haul. I presumed that the woman was the child's mother and Rocco's wife.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” I asked, embarrassed that I had gotten lost in my thoughts.

He smiled with perfect white teeth. “I came over to give you my business card. I’m a licensed contractor. I wanted you to know that if you ever need any house work, I’ll gladly come over.”

“Thanks,” I replied accepting his card. “And I welcome you and your wife to the neighborhood.” I forced a smile.

“Well, that's kind of you, but I don't have a wife. This is my niece, and that’s my sister that you see at my house,” he clarified.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” I apologized, brightening up. “I’m Molaysia Alexander.”

“Pleased