I woke up, refreshed, to the alarm of my cell phone.
“Call-in, baby,” my recorded voice rapped over a techno beat. “Call-in. Baby Love, love, love.”
I slapped at the table where I assumed my phone to be. “Why the f**k is that still my ringtone?” I looked around for Gigi, but she was long gone, likely off to work at her prep kitchen.
“Yo! Lane-a!” Out of nowhere, a certain six-foot-two Asian goofball with his hair in braids flopped his pro-wrestler sized self all down on my legs. His braids hung in my face as he bent to kiss me.
“Jamie!” I groaned. My boyfriend was like a large breed dog with the mind of a puppy. He was a good hundred pounds heavier than me, and he knew that.
“What, babe?”
“I’m suffering an emotional hangover.” If that wasn’t bad enough, the sunlight cut through the n
