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us?” I managed between breaths.
    â€œI don’t give a damn,” Jrue growled, and pressed his lips to my ear. “Nothing is gonna stop me from making love to you.”
    I wanted to say his wife had last night, but decided to leave it alone.
    â€œHow about on Sunday we drive down to Charlottesville and have dinner?”
    What he really meant was Ms. Netta was on the menu.
    â€œIt’s gonna cost you,” I warned.
    Grinning, he nodded. “I think I can afford it.”
    Yes, he could. His grandfather, a real-estate tycoon, was loaded and had left him millions.
    We fixed our clothes; then he kissed me once more and returned to his office. I reached for the can of air freshener from under my desk and quickly sprayed the room before I opened the door. No one would think twice about the heavy scent since I always liked my office to smell good. Just like me.
    The phone on my desk rang, indicating it was time for me to get my ass back to work. I grabbed the phone and sang, “Great Expectations, Trinette Montgomery speaking.”
    An even, merry voice came over the phone. “Good afternoon, Trinette. This is Natasha, Dr. Parks’ nurse.”
    As soon as she identified herself, I sat up straight on the chair. “Oh, yes. I’ve been waiting for your call.” My heart was pounding so hard I could barely get the words out.
    â€œI just wanted to call and congratulate you. Your test came back positive. You’re pregnant.”

5
    Nikki
    I pushed the cart to the front of the store. My assistant, Karen, had been busy checking out customers all morning, so I had no problem pitching in when time permitted. The one thing I loved about owning my own bookstore was seeing all of the new books as they came in from the distributor.
    I was in the African-American section adding a few new authors to the shelves, as well as some of the more popular ones. I noticed two copies of Naomi Chase’s latest book that were supposed to be on reserve behind the desk had accidently gotten in the wrong pile. Ever since that author came blazing into the literary world, her books were hard for me to keep in my store.
    Some of my customers complained that I segregated black books, but I did it for a reason. I wanted to make sure that African-American authors had a chance. How else can you introduce readers to new authors if their books are thrown on the shelves with all the others? As soon as you walked into my store, the colorful books were proudly displayed with eye-catching banners, poster-size cover displays, and more. The large section was proof that AA books were popular and our folks really do read, but I’m not going to lie. I kept the section close to the front of the store where Karen could keep a watchful eye on anyone who was browsing the aisle. No offense, but the popular authors, Carl Weber, Mary B. Morrison, and Zane, their books always seemed to come up short in my inventory and I just wasn’t having any more of that. It’s a shame that black folks would rather borrow and steal a book before spending money, yet we had no problem getting our hair and nails done on a regular basis. All I can do is shake my damn head. Sometime our priorities aren’t where they should be. Hell, I would know. I had been that same person back in the day.
    I spent most of the late afternoon rearranging books on the shelf to showcase a new author who was coming into the store next weekend for a book signing. I also had a dozen on display in the storefront window. Like I said, I believed in supporting authors.
    I was down on my knees when I remembered I still needed to get the podium and microphone from the storeroom and set them up. Wednesdays were open mic night, and by seven o’clock the couches in back would be filled with students from the University of Missouri–St. Louis and from the local area for poetry, singing, and spoken word. Mia, a student, facilitated the event, while two others