Page 160 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

I squint. “What?”

Jordan smirks all-knowing,

biting into her lip.

The Escalade slows, headlights splashing gold across the hotel awning, brakes sighing to a stop.

Door swings open, and I’m out first.

Jordan next.

Celie sinks deeper in the leather, palms flat on her lap, strapping herself down. “Nah, y’all go on. I’ll… stay.”

Jordan’s laugh takes her sideways.

I move in front of the driver and poke my head back inside the cabin. “Celie. The fuck’s wrong with you?” I hiss. “Get outta the car.”

Jordan waves her hand. “Nah, uh-uh, that’s just the feelin’. Ain’t nothin’ comin’. Move it, boo. Get out this car.”

Celie shakes her head.

“Mm-mm. Nah. My ass says otherwise.”

Jordan waves Celie on, trying to reassure her. “Girl, I promise—once you start walkin’, that feelin’ goes away.”

I cock a brow at her.

“The fuck you mean, feelin’?

“What feelin’?”

Celie groans, palms the seat for balance, then finally hauls herself up and out of the car.

The Escalade peels off, red lights bleeding into traffic, leaving the three of us dropped off at the entrance, surrounded by guests, doorman, and bellhops.

Celie takes one step, and mutters,

“Hm. Guess you⁠—”

Then her face freezes,

eyes saucer-wide.

“Nope—nah—oh shit, ohhh fuck.”

She’s staring at me, gaze terrified and screaming for me to save her as she lowers, knees bending, sinking in slow-motion until her ass hits the curb.

Then the faintest squelch.

A wet little betrayal.

Jordan folds in half,

pounding her knees,

her laughter taking her out.

I point at Celie, looking at Jordan.