Sinful Too Read Free

wants to take me out.”
    Dior analyzed the situation thoughtfully before answering. “I’d say yes to nails but no to nuts. That fool from upstairs is nasty. He’s got three or four chicks pregnant at the same time and they all work for the Gap. I’d bet all hell breaks loose every time they have a benefits meeting. Unless you plan on helping him start a basketball team, Suza, just say no to janky playas, wannabe-ballers, and dudes who don’t lay down with the latex. He’s looking to buy four of everything as it is: four blankets, four bottles, and a gang of bassinets. There’s no way he can sell enough sneakers, hats, and throwbacks to support that many kids. He should’ve knocked up some sistahs from the Baby Gap instead. He could use the discount.”
    “He was kicking it with that stuck-up girl from the fragrance counter at Macy’s who we can’t stand. And she just had twins,” Suza remembered. “You saved me, girl. Uh-huh, see, he is nasty.”
    “Told you.”
    Dior left her bewildered associate alone to sort out her next move in the dating pool that mall employees dabbled in on the regular. The main reason Dior refused to overindulge in it herself was purely financial. Although there were hundreds of eligible men just around the corner if she broadened her scope, it was common knowledge that most of those who punched a clock at the mall couldn’t afford her. The few men whose pockets were deep enough didn’t set Dior on fire like Giorgio. In addition to a charming personality and a laid-back style, he had pockets deep enough to swim in. Dior loved stripping down to nothing for an occasional skinny-dip.
    In the manager’s office, Dior set her purse on the desk. She flipped on the small clock radio. Tangerine “The Midday Diva” had just begun her daily broadcast from the hip-hop station located inside the mall. “Thank God it’s Friday, y’all, ’cause I needs my check,” a lively voice proclaimed through the speakers, with a bumping bass beat in the background. “Money ain’t a thing until you’re broke,” Tangie joked.
    Dior nodded her head assuredly. “I feel you, Tangie, a girl’s gotta get that paper.” She hummed along with the music as she thumbed through the pay envelopes for the one with her name written on it. “Ooh yeah, there you are,” she said, after locating it. “Come to mama and say ahhh.” Dior wasted no time ripping it open. “Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, and sixteen hundred,” she counted, before quickly returning the bills to the envelope. Her grin was accompanied by a musical sigh. By Dior’s calculations, Giorgio had padded her commission payout by three hundred bucks. “Oomph, I like surprises. Extra cheddar does a body good. Money ain’t a thing
today.
”
    “Cool, then it won’t be no thing for you to slide your rent money over this way,” commented Dior’s twin brother, Dooney, from the office doorway. When her grin fell flat, he shook his head. “Now tell me, why is it that paying your own way puts that stank look on your face?” Dooney was tall and on the thin side of sexy. He wore his hair close to the bone and neat, like his ever present starched jeans and pressed shirts. His eyes were almond-shaped and covered by dark, perfect brows. Dooney was a bad boy, street educated and slick. His skin was smooth and a perfect match for his sister’s. Dior was quickly reminded how women found him attractive when she noticed Suza had passed by the door behind him more than once to steal candid glances. She’d commented weeks ago how she wanted the hookup, starting with a subtle introduction praising her, of course. Dior wouldn’t think of getting Suza in over her head. If Dooney was going to do his dirt, Dior didn’t want it to backfire then blow up in her face once he’d gotten bored. And Dooney was easily bored, especially where a sure thing was concerned. Oblivious to the heat rising behind him, he sat three large white shopping bags on the floor in