The Appraisal

by Brielle Montgomery

  “I am.” He paused, his chocolate eyes piercing hers. “So now that we can agree on that, we should get together to learn more about each other.”

  Jayla held his gaze for a moment longer, the denial prepped on her tongue. He seemed like he could match her, physically and mentally. And she was mesmerized. She pictured his body on top of hers, his lips caressing her thighs....

  Jayla wanted to laugh out loud at the vulgar thoughts. Here she was, still warm from Chris’s good dick, and she felt her body vibrating at the delicious image of Derrick stroking her from the inside out.

  She was usually in good control of her body, could almost get her own juices flowing as easily as if she’d flipped on a switch. Another key to her success. Now, the fact that Derrick’s smile alone had her moist . . . Needless to say, the sensation felt damn good.

  Jayla kept her eyes fixed on the man across from her. Of course he looked good, no question. But he also seemed very intelligent. Too intelligent to settle for just a fuck buddy. He probably had standards. He wanted a full-fledged relationship, she would bet. Shit, he would probably be one of the ones who could remain faithful for a long time before he cheated. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t work.

  “You’re charming,” she said. “And I do appreciate the offer. But I told you before, I’m not interested.”

  An element of surprise flickered on his face before he masked it with another smile. “I did say you were direct.”

  “You did,” she agreed and rose to her feet. He remained silent as she busied herself with collecting her half-eaten sandwich. The sexual tension was high, and that she could handle. But it was something else that hung between them that was beginning to make her feel awkward.

  “Hopefully, you’ll change your mind,” he said as she turned to go.

  Jayla tossed an apologetic smile over her shoulder. “No, hopefully, you’ll change yours. You enjoy the rest of your day, Derrick Lewis.”

  Back in her car, Jayla let out a staggered sigh. He was already making this complicated, and he wasn’t even her man. Jayla’s phone rang, and she answered it, thankful for the distraction.

  “Hey, Jasmine,” she greeted. “What’s up?”

  “I’ve been thinking about your proposition. I’m not sure I can do it.”

  Jayla rolled her eyes. She had talked to Jasmine until she was blue in the face after the cookout, trying to convince her niece she wasn’t joking, dripping words of encouragement in her ear about the money and the thrill of the business. Jasmine’s agreement had been reluctant, but it was an agreement nonetheless. She would come around once she stopped being so damn shy and opened up to her sexuality.

  “Did you do what I told you?” Jayla said, struggling to restrain her frustration.

  “Yeah. I called Keela, told her that I was wrong and that we should meet up to talk about it.”

  “Good. And did you call her boyfriend?” She started the SUV and pulled out of the deli parking lot.

  Jasmine groaned. “Yeah, I called Tony, too, and said I wanted to meet up with him. But that’s what I’m saying. I don’t want to be the one to set him up. I can’t do it. If Keela comes to the restaurant and sees me and Tony hugged up, that bitch is going to trip.”

  “So the fuck what, Jasmine?” Jayla was nearly yelling into the phone as she shot through an intersection. “That nigga is a two-timing snake, and she deserves to see him for what he really is.”

  “But can’t I just try to set it up so she catches him with another girl?”

  “Fine, Jasmine.” Jayla gave a sigh that was laced with pure agitation. She hadn’t been this difficult for her own mentor when she first started out. “Do whatever the hell you want. I’m just trying to prepare you before I start giving you some assignments. If you want to be that scared bitch, then be that scared bitch. But I tell you this. You’re going to be that scared, broke virgin bitch that’s too damn scared to speak up when you see foul shit going on.”

  Jasmine remained quiet, and Jayla lowered her voice. Maybe she was being a little harsh. “Look, I just don’t want to see nobody take advantage of you. You’re my niece, and I love you with all my heart. I’m just trying to prep you for some real shit out here. After college, you on your own, sweetie.”

  “You’re right.” Jasmine’s voice was nearly a whisper.

  Jayla wheeled onto the expressway and pushed the gas pedal. The speedometer climbed to eighty-five. “I’ll tell you what,” she said. “Why don’t you go with me on one of my assignments? See how I do it. Would that make you more comfortable?” At Jasmine’s hesitation, Jayla pressed. “Listen, I’m not trying to send you out somewhere, and you don’t know what the hell you’re doing. That’s how you get hurt. If you’re not ready, I’ll back off. But this first assignment I was going to throw your way is an easy one for fifteen thousand dollars. But I want you to be one hundred percent prepared.”

  “Okay. That’s fine.”

  Jayla smiled. “Good. I’ll give you a—”

  Her sentence was cut short when someone slammed into her car from behind. The impact threw her forward in her seat, and she dropped the phone to grab the steering wheel with both hands. What the fuck? Jayla looked in her rearview mirror just in time to see a black Toyota Sequoia speeding toward her like a bullet. Panicked, she sped up and attempted to get over, but she was not fast enough, and the truck collided with her trunk once more.

  Metal scraped against metal, and the sound of shattering glass pierced the air. “Shit!” she screamed as the impact knocked her against her steering wheel with enough force that she hit her forehead. She felt her skin split open and the first drops of blood dribble down her face. Jayla swerved again, struggling to keep her truck in her lane.

  Another glance in her mirror and she saw the driver of the truck ease off her tail before gunning the engine once more. Jayla held her breath and braced for the collision. She clenched herself and was surprised when the truck made a sharp swerve into the adjoining lane to ride alongside her.

  Jayla watched the truck shoot by and frowned when she couldn’t make out the driver through the tinted glass. Her breath got caught in her throat as she watched the truck swerve to cut in front of her. The brake lights’ sudden glare in front of her ripped another scream from her throat. She snatched the wheel to the right, and the side of her truck scraped the back of the psychotic driver’s truck and narrowly missed a car coming up in the adjacent lane.

  Horns blared, muffling Jayla’s terrified scream, as she spun out, then rolled onto the bank of the expressway.

  Jayla sat still, her body shaking, as if she were having a mini seizure. She took desperate gulps of air. Someone had tried to kill her. She shuddered at the thought and squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to erase the traumatic episode from her memory. The fear was a death grip, nearly suffocating her. She inhaled sharply through her nose and blew out a quivering breath, willing her heart to steady itself.

  Blood trickled into her eye, causing a faint red haze to cloud her vision. Calling the police was out of the question for Jayla, as she knew her line of work would be questioned, and she couldn’t chance it. She had done enough research to know that prostitution charges would stick, but even worse, she didn’t want to chance her family and friends finding out the truth about her. So just as quickly as the thought of 911 entered her mind, she dispelled it.

  It was then that she glanced behind her at the road. Of course, the traffic sped along, as if a Fast & Furious movie shoot hadn’t just taken place.

  When Jayla was sure she could drive, she eased back onto the road and made her way to the hospital, barely able to see and crying like a baby. Jayla could not help but wonder when her vengeful client or clients would give up and move the fuck on.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The outfit was nearly see-through, a dangerously sheer black piece entirely too tight, too short, and too low cut. Jayla grinned as she angled herself so that she could look at the view from the back in the full-length mirror. The matching thong w
as clearly visible underneath, the material disappearing in the crevice of her juicy ass. Jayla puckered her lips in a frown, and after deciding against the panties, she slid them off. She smiled. Much better.

  She had fixed her hair to cover the stitches, and with a little makeup, they were barely noticeable. Jayla cringed when she remembered the previous week’s near-death experience.

  Hell, yeah, she’d been shaken up. But after the hospital had drawn blood, stitched her up, and given her some feel-good drugs, Jayla had been back in the streets. It had taken some time for the anxiety to wear off when she got behind the wheel. Especially since every time she’d looked at her ride, she’d seen the dents and cracked glass. But after a few more days, and after picking up her truck from the body shop, she’d put the incident out of her mind as much as she could. But she was damn sure more vigilant now.

  Jayla checked her clock before glancing around the room. Since this was just for her clients, the studio apartment was small, but it sufficed. The furniture was minimal, and with the exception of the bed, all else was purely for decoration, to make the place look more lived in. Hell, the forty-two-inch flat screen she’d had mounted on the wall didn’t even have cable attached to it. Just a Blu-ray player was connected, for movies if her clients needed a little coaxing first. Jayla especially loved that she had opted for a studio, because there was clear view into the “bedroom,” and so she could go in and change clothes in front of whoever was in the living area.

  In the kitchen, Jayla pulled out the half-empty bottle of sangria. She had to admit, part of her was surprised when that Heather chick had called back after their initial meeting. But during their subsequent meetings, the woman had seemed to have grown a backbone, because she sure as hell hadn’t seemed as timid as she had at the restaurant. Either way, she had signed the paperwork, had paid her deposit, and had been more than generous with details of her and her plumber boyfriend. The ink hadn’t even been completely dry on the contract before Jayla shoved a dishrag down her sink, got it tangled in the garbage disposal, and called the plumber to set up an appointment. Hopefully, this would be another easy one. Especially with her outfit.

  The phone vibrated on the stainless-steel countertop, and glancing down at the caller ID, Jayla grinned and clicked on the speaker.

  “Hi, papi,” she said, flipping through her mental Rolodex. Eric Lawrence, Puerto Rican and black mixed, wavy black hair, live-in girlfriend, Kimberly.

  “Hola, mamacita,” he greeted, his Spanish accent coating each syllable. “How are you?”

  “Much better now.”

  “That’s what I like to hear. I’m at work, on a break now, but I was wondering if I could come by later.”

  “How about I just come over to your place?” Jayla suggested.

  “That would be great, but my sister is staying with me, and I don’t want her all in my business.”

  Jayla rolled her eyes at the lie. “No problem,” she said. “Come by around eight.” She rattled off the address to her studio apartment and hung up. Quickly, she punched in Jasmine’s phone number. She sucked her teeth when the girl’s voicemail came on.

  “Jasmine, it’s me,” she said. “Be at my house at six thirty sharp tonight. Don’t be late.” Her niece was beginning to pluck her nerves.

  She punched the OFF button on her phone just as the doorbell rang. Jayla hiked up her sheer lingerie a bit more, so it rode high on her succulent thighs. Licking her lips, she strolled to the front door.

  “Yes, I’m coming,” she called, then swung open the door.

  Jayla smiled to herself when the man caught sight of her and his jaw visibly dropped a few inches. She leaned against the door, placing a hand on her hip and sizing him up at the same time.

  He was buff for a white guy. His tanned complexion and blond hair suggested he had been riding waves on the West Coast rather than working knee-deep in clogged pipes. And the image did look appetizing. Plus, by the look of the instant bulge beneath his jeans, he was packing too. She waited while he cleared his throat and shifted his eyes to his tool belt.

  “You must be the plumber,” she said when he made no move to introduce himself. “I’m so sorry, but I just woke up. I think I forgot you were coming this morning.”

  He cleared his throat, keeping his eyes downcast. “It’s no problem, ma’am. Do you need me to come back?”

  Jayla pretended to contemplate the idea. “No, no, I think now will be fine, if that’s fine with you. No need for you to waste a trip.” She stepped out of the way, barely, and she couldn’t help but chuckle as Reggie made a huge effort to ease into the small foyer without grazing her exposed body. She caught the faint smell of cigarettes and coffee and wanted to groan out loud. She could already taste the burned tobacco. Great. She prayed no kissing would be involved.

  Jayla closed the door, and the sound of the lock sliding into place echoed in the empty room. She turned with a smile and caught him eyeing a picture on the wall.

  “That’s nice.” He gestured absently, and she knew he was trying to diminish the tension in the room. By the look of his eyes fishing greedily for something to focus on, anything but her, she almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

  “Thanks,” she said, not knowing or caring which picture he was referring to. She stepped around him and led the way into the adjoining kitchen. “I don’t know what exactly is going on.” She feigned innocence as she waved a hand in the direction of the sink. “It just stopped working. And it’s making some kind of whirring sound.”

  Reggie seemed grateful to get to work. He unclipped his tool belt and sat it on the floor. Then he flipped the switch for the disposal. Sure enough, a grinding and stuttering sound came out first; then there was silence. He turned the disposal off, and after giving the switch a few more flicks, he opened the cabinet and disappeared underneath the sink.

  “It’s probably just something caught in there,” he said, guessing. Jayla hopped up on the kitchen counter. She made sure to keep her knees apart, giving Mr. Reggie a full-fledged peep show, thinking he would stop acting so damn weak and indulge himself.

  “Can I get you something to drink? Coke, wine, coffee?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  She frowned. He was good at pretending to be focused. Fine. She could wait until he was done.

  Jayla remained on the counter, getting herself off by watching his muscles ripple underneath the tight shirt, watching the bend and stretch of his jeans as he leaned in and worked to remove the pipes. She imagined herself wrapping her slender legs around his waist while he gave it to her good and rough right there on the countertop. She’d had a few white guys before, and she’d been disappointed by their short compensation. Maybe Mr. Reggie would be a little different.

  He leaned back on his heels and pulling the shredded dishrag into view. “Here’s your problem,” he said. His eyes ballooned when he glanced over at Jayla.

  She smiled, pleased at his reaction. She had taken great care with shaving her pussy and was enjoying the feeling as it grew hot under his shocked stare. Still, she pretended to be oblivious.

  “Thank you so much. I’m so glad you were able to fix it.”

  He cleared his throat and tore his eyes away. “I’ll put everything back together and be out of your way shortly.” His movements were brisk as he disappeared underneath the sink once more.

  “Oh, you’re not in my way,” she said.

  He didn’t respond, just continued reaching for pieces of the pipe he had scattered on the tile kitchen floor. As soon as he was finished, he stood, and Jayla hopped down. She walked toward him, and he immediately took a step back.

  “Miss,” he gasped when Jayla pressed her body up against his and her groping hand snaked up his leg to grab his bulge. He didn’t move. Just stood silent as she continued to finger the zipper and leaned in to lick his neck.

  Abruptly, Reggie snatched away from her grasp and headed for the living room. “Miss, this is not that kind of maintenance call,” he said with surpris
ing strength.

  Jayla smiled again. Fine. Straight to level ten. She had no problems keeping up. In one swift motion, she reached behind her to the fastener hooked tight at her back. After unclasping the corset, she let the entire piece fall to her feet. She placed her hands on her hips and arched her back to give him a full view of her body in all its naked glory.

  “I understand,” she said. “But that doesn’t make me any less horny.”

  Reggie turned, and his eyes sucked in her body like a savage. Her size D cups were plump and perky, the nipples beckoning him. His face shaded to a rich crimson hue as he backed up to the door. His clumsy fingers fumbled with the lock and the doorknob, all while his eyes took in every inch of her. As if realizing his mistake, he shut them and turned around.

  “I’ll send you an invoice,” he said before snatching open the door and sprinting out to his truck. In his haste, he hadn’t bothered to close the door behind him. Slight aggravation had Jayla sighing as she moseyed over to shut it herself.

  She moved to the window and peered through the blinds to see if he was really leaving. Sure enough, he was damn near on two wheels as he backed out of her driveway, swerved, and barely missed the mailbox. As he sped away, Jayla eyed the black Mini Cooper parked across the street.

  It didn’t seem too out of place, except for the fact that it was facing the wrong way. And perhaps it was parked at the property line between two residences, so she couldn’t tell which house the vehicle belonged to. The tinted windows blocked any evidence of someone actually in the vehicle, and she dismissed her rising suspicion with a roll of her eyes. The car accident had her on edge. It wasn’t like she lived over here. Hell, people were moving in and out all the time, and she probably wouldn’t recognize a neighbor if he or she knocked on her door. She eyed the car a moment longer before letting the blinds fall back in place. First night fail. No problem. She’d be better equipped next time she met Mr. Reggie.