Page 47 of Hired By My Rich Baby Daddy

I nodded, smile big as day. "Yeah, maybe, but…" I lifted my arms. "Okay, I’m a lil' tart. Let me hop in the shower."

I was almost in the bathroom when she said, "Oh. And Nourah?"

"Yeah?"

"Pack a bag."

I turned around. "For what?"

"Because after those two women got kicked out, they let me put you on the list for the rest of the weekend. You staying at the hotel too, boo boo!"

I ain't say nothing for a second.

"The St. Regis Crescent? Biiitch! You lying!"

"Nope. Annnd per the itinerary, we're going to the club tonight and brunch in the morning, so pack accordingly."

I screamed so loud my neighbor probably called 911 on my ass!

An hour and forty minutes later, we were standing in front of my hallway mirror, and I ain't gone lie, we ate.

Noree had on a green two-piece skirt set, side part, hair straightened and laid the fuck down, with gold accessories and heels. I had on cut-up jeans, a cowl-neck top, back fully on display, titties sitting, with tan heels, and Noree did my face. My hair was in a high pony. I put on my sunglasses and added the finishing touches with my lip gloss

We must've snapped a bunch of pictures together before I grabbed my duffel and threw the strap over my shoulder. I had packed it like I was going on a seven-day cruise.

We hopped in Noree's car. She pulled off, and she turned the music up. As we rode down 85, I sat there thinking about how yesterday I was down, and today I was on my way to an Ozy Love video shoot.

“Hey,” I said.

"Hm?"

"You think it's gone be food there?"

She busted out laughing. "Nourah."

"What? Hoe, I'm starving!"

Paisley, my baby mama, came out the house in a robe that wasn't tied all the way, a pink bra and black panties, which clearly wasn’t a matching set, house shoes, and a bonnet that was barely on her head. Her hair was all over the place, and she walked straight up to me with her fucking hand out like she always did.

"You got it?" she asked, straight to the point.

No good morning. No nothing.

I kissed my teeth, leaning on my white Mercedes-Maybach S-Class. "Good morning to you too, Pais."

"PB, don't start this early. Just hand it here,” she had the nerve to say, and I chuckled.

I ain't say nothing right away because I was looking past her through the screen door. Rah, her other baby daddy, was on thecouch, no shirt, blunt in his hand, feet up on the coffee table like he paid something in there. Nigga should’ve been getting up, going to work.

"So, we still doing this?" I asked.

"Doing what?"

"This. Where I pull up every other week with money for Summer, and your nigga sitting in there with his feet up."

She rolled her eyes so hard I thought they was finna get stuck. "Here we go again, Princeton, damn! Worry ’bout yo’ own shit." She tried to get loud, but that loud shit ain’t work with me.

"Nah, explain it to me because I be trying to understand, and I can't." I leaned off my car. "You got a man living in that house, you had a new baby by this nigga, moved him in, but you calling me about clothes for summer school? You don’t even be helping my baby with her fucking homework. Mrs. Wilamena said she’s a good kid but struggles with numbers and reading ’cause she don’t get to do it when she get home. Why the fuck is that?"