The Enclave of Jyme (G Street Chronicles Presents) (17 page)

Read The Enclave of Jyme (G Street Chronicles Presents) Online

Authors: Phoenix Rayne

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Women's Fiction, #essence, #maintenance man, #relationship, #reshonda tate billingsley, #drugs, #wahida clark, #action, #Thriller, #stripper, #deceit, #Contemporary Fiction, #motivation, #Suspense, #tv, #gstreetessence, #connie briscoe, #series, #short story, #kimberla lawson roby, #david weaver, #scandal, #street lit, #victoria christopher murray, #urban books, #porn star, #movie, #fast paced, #music, #gstreet, #domestic abuse, #zane, #lies, #eric jerome dickey, #urban fiction, #Erotica, #true glory, #womens fiction, #goodreads, #ericjdickey, #michaelbaisden, #Sex, #African American, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Urban, #bookclub, #drama, #love, #kwan, #Mystery, #urban lit

“Hello?” she answered.

“Cricket?” I asked.

“Yes, this is she; may I ask whom I’m speaking with?”

“This is Jyme.”

Shit, she probably had no idea who I was. I’m sure Charlotte told her my name was Lil Samson. Everyone called me Lil Samson even though I preferred Jyme but I never corrected people.

“Uhh, okay,” she sounded confused.

I laughed and explained myself. “I’m the guy who helped you get out of the mud last night.”

I heard a squeaky bed and then the phone fell silent.

“Hello?” The phone was still silent, and then I heard a dial tone. I had four bars. I redialed, but the phone went straight to her voicemail.

Hello, you have reached Cricket Hooper with Starbucks Corporate International Consumer Methods department. My office hours are Monday thru Friday 8:00 a.m. till 5:00 p.m. Pacific Standard Time. If this is an urgent matter, please contact Starbucks Corporation on Utah Ave S in Seattle, Washington.

And then the sweet voice was gone. She was a professional at being professional; I could tell it in her voice. I was a thick-headed beast, and she was the most delicate of chocolate Swiss mousse. I thought about her voice for the rest of the night.

When I slept, Ms. Cricket Hooper joined me in my dreams. We were in a movie theater watching a movie; sharing a bucket of popcorn. Our hands met in the middle of the bucket and then the bucket was gone all together and Cricket was giving me a hand job. She wasn’t afraid of the beast below at all. She worked him up and helped him release. When I woke, I realized the beast had released himself in real life, so I stripped the bed and put on fresh sheets.

I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I went for a run and instead of clearing my mind, it just made me think of her more. I had to talk to her; I had to let her know I handled everything poorly and that I wasn’t a racist.

When I got back, the guys were up and ready to go. I showered quickly and went to the leather chair. I swiped the phone then scrolled back down to the C’s. I tapped the phone again and waited for the rings to start. The phone rang twice.

“Hello?” she didn’t have the same sweet tone from before or from her voicemail. I had to get out what I needed to say to her.

“Look, I talked to Sal. That’s the man’s mailbox you knocked down. I told him I would come down and fix it, and he was cool with that. So the mailbox is back in the land of the living,” I assured her. The phone fell silent again. I looked at the phone and it was still lit up with her name so she was still there.

“Are you still there?” I asked her.

“Yes, I’m here. You really didn’t have to do that and I will pay you for your services.”

She was starting to piss me off. If she only knew all the shit I had to do to get that fucking mailbox back up for Sal’s greedy ass. If she only knew Sal was the one person on the reservation you never wanted to have any interactions with. He was a pure crook and tried to get something from everybody.

“Listen, I wanted to do this, and I feel horrible about what I said. Charlotte told me you were from the South and that you took total offense to what I said.”

“Wait a sec. Did she give you my number?” she popped off at me.

“Yeah.”

What difference did it make to her if Charlotte gave me her number? I handled the situation for her. The only thing she should have been saying to me was
thank you
.

“Unfuckingbelieveable! The Rangers are now giving out people’s private numbers. I mean, that’s my own private information,” she yelled in the phone.

“It’s not like that around here,” I told her.

“Okay, I’m done with this conversation. Thank you, and have a pleasant day,” she hung up on me again. I slammed the phone to the floor. I heard the guys beating on my bedroom door. I got up and left the phone where it fell.

I was in a fucked-up mood for the rest of the weekend. Everyone stayed away from me as much as they could. Sheen and Kanoke tiptoed around the condo. I stayed in my room as much as possible.

At the end of Sunday’s shift, Loon walked up to me as I was packing a box. “Hey man, what’s up?”

“Nothing.”

He cocked his head at me and laughed. “Man, you’ve been over here working like He-Man. No one wants to cross you. Now who pissed you off?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I got time, brother,” Loon told me, genuinely trying to help the situation.

I told him the whole story. I hadn’t mentioned Cricket anymore to the guys, so they knew nothing of my obsession about making sure she didn’t think I was a racist. Loon listened to me ramble on about her and what had been done for over thirty minutes. By the time I was finished, Sheen, Kanoke, and few of the other guys were behind me listening. I didn’t know they were listening to me tell Loon my troubles. I felt embarrassed, so I started packing the neglected box.

“You should send her some chocolates,” one of the guys called out.

“No, an expensive purse,” Kanoke said aloud. The guys talked amongst themselves, trying to figure out what I should do. Loon was the only one who was silent. He was looking up at the sky.

When I was done packing the box and the guys were almost done fighting over who had a better idea, Loon cleared his throat.

“Can you get her work address?” Loon asked.

“I already know where she works,” I told him.

“You know where her office is?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Send her flowers,” he told me. Everyone fell silent and then the crooning began. They all agreed that would be the best idea. I liked that idea too. I would send her the biggest flower arrangement I could find. I would send it to her job and that would get her attention. I had a mission now and I had to win.

Sheen and Kanoke had been planning to go back to the Res, but they wanted to help me out.

“Man, we’re staying here until you talk to her,” Sheen said.

“We don’t care how long it takes. You help us with everything, and you never ask for anything in return,” Kanoke told me.

“Thanks, guys.”

We stayed up for the majority of the night trying to find the biggest and baddest flower arrangement out there. We came up with a frosted vase and wild flowers and a few plant leaves. I ordered the arrangement from a native I know from a sister reservation. I added a few of the jumbo sunflowers and cat tails myself. Kanoke made the delivery for me. Kanoke said he asked for her and held the work clipboard in his hand. They buzzed him in and told him which floor she worked on. He said he never saw her, but that the receptionist in her office floor was cute. I didn’t hear from her that day. If I didn’t hear from her by tomorrow, I would call her myself.

That night, the guys and I were watching
Deadliest Catch
when my phone rang. I looked down at it. Cricket was calling me.

“Shit, it’s her,” I said.

Sheen muted the TV. “Be cool, man. Don’t sound desperate.”

“Play hard to get and bored with her. That always work for me,” Kanoke said.

I tapped answer on the phone and pulled it to my ear.

“Hello,” I said in gruff voice.

“May I speak to Lil Samson Jyme?” my sweet caramel goddess voice was back.

“Speaking,” I laughed because she said my name all wrong. It was a mouthful, but damn, she fucked it all up.

“I owe you an apology, and I assume a thank you is in order as well,” she grinned into the phone. I could hear it in her voice. I had to shake her up a bit. I didn’t want to sound too desperate.

“What exactly are you thanking me for?” I asked her. The phone was silent for a minute, and then she went in.

“Well, first off, for helping me get out of the mud, second for repairing the mailbox, and third for the amazing floral arrangement. They’re beautiful and I’m so grateful.”

I couldn’t help but to smile at her. I swallowed and collected myself.

“You forgot one,” I told her.

“Um?” she thought for a minute.

“And for not killing you,” I told her. That silenced her again. I could hear her panting through the phone.

“I’m really sorry about all of that,” she whispered. My face dropped and I felt sorry for doing her like this. I didn’t want her to feel bad anymore.

“We’re even,” was all I could get out before Sheen snatched the phone out of my hand and hung it up.

“What the fuck, man?” I yelled at Sheen, jumping to my feet.

“You will thank me later, man. Listen, you were sounding too desperate.” Sheen admitted.

“Yeah man, you were sounding like a straight pussy. I’m sorry, but you were.” Kanoke joined in.

I snatched my phone from him and went to my bedroom.

“Don’t call her back. Let her call you,” Sheen called out to me from down the hall. I started to text her back, but decided to sleep on it. When I woke the next morning, I was anxious. I wanted to talk to her again and make everything all right this time. I went for a run and decided I would call her at a more decent time while she was on her way to work. When I got back from the run, the guys were still sleep. I showered and slid on a pair of my custom-fit boxers and went to the closet and my favorite chair. I swiped the phone and brought it to life. I tapped on recent calls and tapped Cricket’s name. The phone rang three times, and then I could hear wind in the background.

“Hello,” that sweet voice said into the phone.

“Lunch at twelve,” I didn’t want to give her the opportunity to say no.

“Alright,” she said. I smiled and hung up before I said something stupid.

Chapter 10

I sat there until I heard the guys stumbling around. They were already digging into the cheesecakes - another half dozen I picked up on my return run - when I walked in. The TV was on and they sat sleepily on the couch. I dropped down on in the leather sofa chair.

“We’re going to lunch today at noon,” I told them nonchalantly.

“Alright, Cat Daddy,” Sheen yelled.

“Meow, meow, hiss hiss,” Kanoke teased me with cat paw gestures.

At 10:30, I started getting ready for our lunch date. I tried to play it cool in front of the guys, but I was nervous as fuck. I hadn’t been on a real date since...I’d never really been on a real date. Elle never wanted to go anywhere and do anything. The nicest restaurant we had ever been to was The Fisherman’s Boathouse in Port Angeles. They served some of the finest and richest foods in the Pacific Northwest; they have starched white table cloths and they even had candelabras at each table. I walked into the closet and went straight for the leather chair. I looked up at the clothes and was stumped. I didn’t think I needed to wear a suit, but I wanted to look nice. I wanted to wear jeans and my new polo boots. I decided on a white collared, button down dress shirt with dark denim and polo boots. I wore my new belt from Zedd, and I carried my messenger bag. I loaded it with my laptop and a notebook with a couple of pens. I brushed my hair, but I had to much static. I pulled it back into a ponytail and cupped it underneath so I didn’t have any unwanted strands hanging. I walked out into the front room and the guys approved of my outfit.

“All you’re missing is a pair of square-rimmed glasses,” Kanoke said.

“I don’t have any,” I told him

“Oh well, you still look good though.”

I left the condo and headed for downtown. When I turned on Utah Street, my chest started pounding. I parked the truck and sprayed Fabreze on the back floor then cracked the windows to give it some fresh air. I left my bag in the car because I didn’t think I would need that accessory right now.

I walked into the main lobby and told the man at the counter I had an appointment with Cricket Hooper. He buzzed me through and gave me her floor number. I went up the elevator and got off on her floor. I walked through the glass doors and a receptionist with big, curly hair and a wide smile greeted me.

“Hello and welcome to Starbucks Corporate International Consumer Methods department. Do you have an appointment?”

“Yes, I have a twelve o’clock with Cricket Hooper.”

The receptionist’s eyes widened and then she bit the bottom of her lip. “I will let Ms. Hooper know you’re here.”

“Thank You.”

I walked over to the glass doors and my phone buzzed. I pulled it out and saw it was Patty.

“Big head?” I answered.

“I’m so angry with you right now; I don’t know what to do,” she sniffled into the phone.

“What is it?”

“You have a swanky condo in the city and you have a new girlfriend that I’ve never met,” she whined into the phone.

“Hey, stop it little girl,” I tried to calm her down. “I don’t have a new girlfriend, and I was going to tell you about the condo. I literally just got it.”

I saw two women coming through the glass doors. Patty was still whining in my ear, but then my chestnut goddess stepped toward me in a sexy, fitted black dress. She wore tall high heels and stepped in them like she was walking barefoot. I smiled and she smiled back. I held the door for Cricket. She smelled amazing; I held a hand out for her and closed my hand around hers. I didn’t know if she thought it was weird that we were holding hands, but I didn’t know what else I to do. The elevator arrived.

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