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Brooklyn Bombshells: Part 1

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When the door closed behind them, Bacardi turned and shouted, “Chanel, what the fuck is wrong wit’ your foolish ass!”

“I told you she’s a stupid bitch,” Charlie chimed.

Chapter Eighteen

The next day, Mateo parked his Range Rover on the Brooklyn Street and climbed out into cold air that matched yesterday’s brutal weather. This time he was alone. He wanted to give talking to Chanel another shot. Yesterday was a shock to her, and she was upset. He had been gone without an explanation for quite some time, and he understood that. Today, he came with some flowers for her along with his stubbornness. He wasn’t going to give up on Chanel. He wanted her back in his life.

He stood under Chanel’s apartment window and called her cell phone. She answered, and before she could hang up on him, he uttered, “You gonna have me freeze to death. Cuz I’m gonna wait out here all day until I get to see you alone.”

Chanel hung up on him. She went to the living room window and there he was, standing outside her apartment window dressed in the same mink jacket and clutching a bouquet of expensive flowers that looked like they were ready to freeze and turn to ice. The winter day was no place for flowers, but Mateo didn’t care. He wanted to impress her.

Bacardi gazed out the window too, and seeing Mateo standing in the winter cold holding flowers for her youngest daughter was the best thing she could see at that moment—along with the pearl white Range that was parked behind him.

Damn-it, her youngest daughter done hit the jackpot. In her eyes, Mateo was a keeper. But seeing Chanel’s reaction, how she appeared stubborn and standoffish to the man’s advances, Bacardi had seen enough. That bitch was about to ruin a good thing coming.

Bacardi spun around to face her daughter. “Are you a stupid bitch or what? This nigga out there in the cold waitin’ fo’ you to see him, and you in here looking like we don’t need his help. Ya a stubborn little bitch wit’ hurt feelings.”

Chanel stood there in silence.

Bacardi angrily continued with, “You either go out there with him or you can get the fuck out my house! We all up in here struggling and starvin’, and maybe that nigga can help out. You need to fuckin’ pull ya weight around here, Chanel. Now get dressed and go handle ya man.”

Chanel sighed. She wasn’t about to go against Bacardi, not because she was scared, but she felt her mother was right. She was being stubborn, and she didn’t want to lose Mateo. Yesterday, she didn’t give him a chance to explain. She gave him the cold shoulder because he’d hurt her deeply. But if he were to leave and disappear for good this time, Chanel knew his absence was going to hurt more the second time around.

She went to the window and hollered at him, “Just give me five minutes.”

He smiled.

She marched into her bedroom and threw on something that was appropriate for the cold outside. In her thick winter coat and snow boots, she went out the door and took the stairs down to the lobby. Even in the lobby, she could feel the cold air from outside. She went through the doors and it felt like she got hit in the face by a brick. She bundled up inside her coat and trekked toward Mateo. He kept his eyes on her with a bright smile.

“I’m glad I could change your mind,” he said.

She sighed. “So, are we just gonna stand out here and freeze to death?”

Mateo handed her the dying flowers and escorted her to his ride and opened the passenger door for her. She climbed inside. Being inside his vehicle again felt soothing to her and brought about some nostalgia.

Mateo got behind the wheel and sat there for a moment. His eyes lingered on Chanel, manifesting his feelings.

“Are we just gonna sit here with you looking at me, or did you have someplace in mind?” she said.

“You hungry?”

“I can get something to eat.”

Mateo put the car in gear and drove off. Moving farther away from the projects, he glanced at Chanel and said, “I know I owe you an explanation for my sudden disappearing act for a few months.”

“You do.”

“I’m sorry.”

Chanel sat in silence and simply looked at him. She was ready to hear what he had to say to her.

He sighed and uttered, “I had a girlfriend—”

“Girlfriend?” she uttered in disbelief.

“Yes. Her name is Nikki. Right after I dropped you off that day, I went to see her and she told me she was pregnant.”

Chanel could feel the sickness of jealousy and betrayal swimming around in her stomach. Mecca had warned her that he had other women, but she didn’t want to believe her. She wanted to be Mateo’s one true love. Truth was, she was still young and vulnerable to his charm. But hearing “girlfriend” and “pregnant” was thrusting her into pain and envy.



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