Reality Check Read Free

white designer T-shirt with a pair of black shorts that barely contained her ass cheeks. It was a little cool for shorts, especially those shorts, but this was California. I was still adjusting to that.
    Diversity at its finest.
    “So, are we gonna do this, dawg? The tall one’s callin’ to me, and I’m ready to scale Mount Everest.”
    “Smitty, you don’t even know if they’re game. Besides, we’re all sweaty and shit.”
    “Hey,” he grunted with a shrug. “Sweat now, sweat later. Does it matter?”
    I wasn’t going to admit it, but Smitty was right. It had been too long for me.
    And my days of being a good boy had only resulted in pain and disappointment.

5
     
    Glover
     
    New state requirements, along with the plethora of new forms they entailed, had descended on the California Employment Development Department. We were sucking air. Charmaine was in charge of data entry and filing, so the day was wearing even on her usually upbeat, devil-may-care attitude. Mona was confirming employment searches of benefit recipients who sometimes creeped her out, and I was doing a little bit of everything. During our first break, we managed to chat some.
    “Shred this one. Send these back. Retain these for five years,” Charmaine muttered. “Rules, rules, rules. These motherfuckers are gonna make me go postal in here.”
    “And you’d be on lockdown so quick,” Mona replied while shuffling through the worn Los Angeles Times on the table.
    “Lockdown? At a male prison, I would hope.”
    “Please. No prison talk. Mona, we don’t need Charmaine’s graphic imagination going to her mouth.”
    “Speaking of lockdown, you about to go away for a stretch with Mr. Moneybags?”
    “If you’re referring to Lionel, Charmaine, we’re having lunch today.”
    “What I’m referring to is whether Lionel’s going to make you an honest woman.”
    “I’m as honest as they come already, girl. I don’t need some man to do that.”
    “I heard that,” chimed in Mona. “Girl, let Glover do her thang.”
    “Honestly, we really haven’t discussed the marriage issue that much. I mean, Lionel appears to be interested, but he’s not pressuring me.” Much. “I mean, he asked me to move in with him and quit my job, but—”
    “Hold up! Quit your job?” Charmaine barked out loud enough for half the office to hear. My girl was flabbergasted. “And you haven’t skipped out on this place yet? Girl, I would have told everyone in here to kiss my white ass, especially Mr. Marx.”
    Mr. Marx was the office supervisor, a Grinch of a man. Charmaine hated him with a passion but still needed her job, so she nervously looked around the break room to ensure he wasn’t within earshot.
    “That’s why she’s with Lionel and you’re not, Charmaine,” Mona chimed defiantly. “Glover’s not weak and dependent like that.”
    “Thank you, my sister!” I said with a high five, while Charmaine rolled her eyes and hummed the notes to Destiny’s Child’s “Independent Women.”
    The lunchtime crowd at New Japan sushi bar in Little Tokyo was massive. Luckily, Lionel had told me their service was fast once you got in. His work schedule hadn’t permitted lunch together as frequently these days, so I was already in line when Lionel pulled up in his Audi. I watched as he casually flipped his keys to the valet, running up to give me a kiss.
    “Any problems finding it?”
    “Not with your directions, baby,” I answered, knowing lustful eyes of single women of many shades were upon him. Without missing a beat, he pulled me along, strolling to the head of the line, where he gained us immediate seating with a mere whisper of his name. Doors and obstacles were a minor inconvenience in this town for the Dunnings, as I had been quick to learn.
    I was new to some of the stuff to which Lionel was exposing me, but that made every encounter an interesting experience.
    I staked out the safe shrimp tempura lunch, while Lionel went with the raw salmon