The Billionaire's Ginger Girl

Sofia I didn’t mean to ask him for ginger. Not really. But when you’ve seen someone three times a week -same building, same brooding face, same designer suit -you kind of feel like you know them, even if you've never said a word. He always looked like he was on the edge of a million-dollar decision. Or maybe a meltdown. Either way, the man screamed power with problems. Today, he walked out of the building with shopping bags in one hand and a phone glued to his ear. He looked mad this time, and I’m sure it was his driver, Henry, again. I’d seen him yell at the poor guy before, so that look just screamed trouble for Henry. I’d just come back from handing out pitch decks to skincare investors who didn’t believe in young black women with big ideas and big dreams. So yeah. I was a little fed up. And hot. And when he passed me by, I just… blurted it. “If you’re heading to the store, could you grab me some ginger?” He stopped. Slowly pulled the phone from his ear. Looked at me like I’d asked for his car keys. “I’m sorry?” he said, crisp and clipped. I gestured to his bags. “Looks like you just came from the mall. I ran out of ginger this morning -you know, for tea. Or maybe to rub on the ego of the fifth investor who told me my business idea was ‘cute.’” A pause. Then something surprising happened. His mouth curved slightly -like he wasn’t used to smiling and wasn’t sure if it was allowed. “I don’t do personal grocery runs,” he said. “Pity. You look like someone who could use a little root in his life.” I stood, brushed off my skirt, and turned to leave. I swear I saw him glance back, just once. No ginger, though. Nathaniel I recognized her. She was always in the lobby. Talking to the receptionist, sipping cheap tea, pitching to every suit who made eye contact. Hustler energy. Sharp, confident. The kind of woman who walks like the city owes her a favor. I admired it, from a distance. Until she ambushed me about ginger. It was bold. Irritating. Almost impressive. I should’ve walked away. But I didn’t. She made me smile. That doesn’t happen much. Then I watched her walk away, forgetting how mad I was at Henry for making me waste more time here than necessary.