“I like it here,” Nikita said. “Are these people going to give you a job? Can I stay here and play sometimes?”
“Nikita.” Jalisa sighed. “Nothing is certain yet.”
A small part of Jalisa hoped that Stone would turn them down. He did not seem like the kind of person Jalisa wanted to work for. Right now, he didn’t have that much power over her life. She could collect Nikita and walk out to find something better. The more she took from him, the more power he would have. Stone gave off bad vibes and giving him power made Jalisa very uncomfortable. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Marie came back out with a box of nail polish, nail polish remover, and a towel. She spread the towel over the white shag rug Nikita was sitting on before calling Jalisa over. The three girls sat around the towel and dug through the nail polish bottles.
“You work for Stone, right?” Jalisa asked as she eyed the bright red nail polish in Nikita’s hand.
“Yeah.” Marie hummed. “Oh, baby, you don’t want red. Boys will get the wrong idea. Try a beautiful blue or a pink. Pastels look the best on dark skinned women like you, in my opinion. On light-skinned people, they just look like how watered down soda tastes. That’s why I only wear bold colors.”
“Try a light yellow. You always look good in that,.” Jalisa said. For her, it wasn’t about what colors went with what skin, she just didn’t want men to think Nikita was older than fourteen.
Nikita was already starting to develop curves and wearing bras. She hadn’t started her period yet, but it could happen at any moment. Jalisa noticed the way men looking at Nikita had changed. Too many young women grew up too fast, and Jalisa would make sure that didn’t happen to Nikita.
“How is Stone?” Jalisa asked as she held out a pastel yellow to Nikita.
“He’s okay. I mean...he’s got his good and bad, just like any other boss.” Marie shook up a couple bottles of what was basically the same shade of red before carefully selecting one.
“And you’re a bartender? Is that difficult?” Jalisa didn’t want to deal with drunks all day, but if it kept them off the streets than it was worth it.
“It’s pretty easy most of the time. Sometimes there’s a party going on, and you’ve got to get, like, a hundred drinks done now, but most of the time it’s slow. The Semya isn’t as popular as some other bars in L.A.. This neighborhood hasn’t been gentrified yet, so tourists don’t usually come around. Those are the customers who suck the worst. ‘Oh, we just got here. Oh, what’s good? Oh, I heard this was the bar they shot some music video in.’” Marie put her hands up and mocked tourists in a high pitched voice before she remembered that the sisters had just got here today. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Nikita smiled. “We aren’t tourists. We’re living in Los Angeles now, same as you.”
“Is Stone a good boss? Has he fired many people unfairly? Ever been sued for sexual harassment?” Jalisa asked, mostly wanting to know the answer to the last question.
“Oh, he’s fine.” Marie waved around her hands while Jalisa selected the bottle of polish on top, a dark blue with some flecks of glitter in it. “We only get employees here and there. Mostly, it’s just me and Stone who run the bar.”
“But I thought that the two of you took girls off of the streets a lot?” Jalisa painted Nikita’s nails while trying to make sense of the conflicting stories.
“We do , uh, they just usually have jobs of their own.” Marie stumbled on her explanation a bit, and Jalisa started to worry that it wasn’t the goodness of their heart that was driving Marie and Stone to help young women off of the streets.
“Can you do stripes?” Nikita asked, oblivious to what was happening in Jalisa’s mind.
“I can!” Marie grabbed Nikita’s hand. “You focus on your own nails, Jalisa.”
Jalisa didn’t really want to paint her nails, but she played along. Marie chatted with Nikita like one might talk with a child. They mostly talked about softball and school, nothing of consequence. Eventually, the door opened, and Erik and Stone came back in. Erik took a seat in the corner and said nothing.
“So, Erik and I were talking, and we think it would be best if you come and work for us. We know you don’t have any bartending experience since you're underage, but Marie can show you the ropes.” Stone sat on the couch near the girls and watched them getting along with a big smile.
“That’s great. I can start work anytime you want.” Jalisa told herself that it was just until something better came along.
“We’ll have you start tomorrow.” His voice got softer, and he laid a hand on Jalisa’s shoulder. “I also think you and Nikita should move in. There’s a spare room with a queen bed and a closet.”
“Really?” Nikita said. “Praise God.”
“How much for rent?” Jalisa asked. There had to be a catch somewhere.
“It’s free.” Stone squeezed her shoulder. “You can feel free to think of this as your home, too. Any food, clothing, or things we have are yours, too.”
“How much is the pay?” Jalisa asked. Free rent and food sounded good, but she also needed money to send Nikita to school eventually. Not to mention fake IDs so they could build up a whole new life.
“How does-” Stone started.
“Five hundred,” Erik said from his corner. “Weekly.”
“Erik,” Stone growled. “This is my employee, not yours.”
“Payday is Friday.” Erik ignored Stone. “You will have to work for it, though. I expect you to be a full-time bartender. Your little sister will work, too. She will clean the bar during the day, and you will work the bar at night.”
“I’m okay with that,” Nikita said, giving Jalisa a reassuring look.
“We need Sunday off.” Jalisa was firm. “My sister and I are very religious. That day belongs to God.”
“Of course.” Stone shrugged. “Sunday off is fine.”
“I accept. I would shake your hand, but my nails are wet.” Jalisa laughed, a weight lifting from her shoulders
Chapter 3
The two girls had next to nothing when they unpacked their new room. Marie took pity on them and bought them new flannel sheets, fluffy blankets and pillows, silk curtains, and some posters for Nikita. Everything was top quality and luxurious because Marie didn’t believe in buying things that were poorly made. She insisted that they would just fall apart.
Though it was extravagant, the girls had a lot of fun decorating. Their room was small, probably a renovated office, but it had a window and just enough space for the two of them. The queen-sized bed fit the two comfortably, and Jalisa assembled a simple dresser for their clothes. Nikita hung up posters of softball stars and other people who inspired her. Their father’s Bible rested on the nightstand, and Jalisa gave it a soft stroke every night. Jalisa tried to keep a mental checklist of how much she owed Marie for the bedroom things but stopped after six hundred.
Even worse was the clothes. Every article of clothing Marie purchased the two was at least fifty dollars. Jalisa worried each time they entered a store that Marie would make the girls feel bad about spending her money, but Marie never did. She sat outside the dressing room and clapped every time Nikita came out to spin around. She even went to a salon with the girls to get their hair done. Marie ended up with a hundred dollar haircut that just barely looked different, and Nikita got a thick strip of her hair dyed teal before being styled into an up do. Jalisa was very happy with her twists and color, so she just sat in the waiting room and watched the girls.
After a couple of days had passed, the guilt from spending so much of a stranger’s money had passed. Marie never brought it up or implied that she was waiting for Jalisa to pay her back. The woman just honestly enjoyed shopping more than anything. She regularly joked about how she herself was a stimulus to the local economy. The tip jar on the bar even said ‘New Shoes.’ Jalisa saw how much went into the tip jar and wondered how she had so much money to throw around but didn’t ask. It wasn’t her business.
“Stone’s kind of cute, huh?” Nikita watched the city pass out of the window.
“No. He is not.” Jalisa’s eyebrows knitted together and she stared at the back of her sister’s head in shock. Eventually, Nikita turned around.
“He is. He’s got lots of muscles.” Nikita got a dreamy look in her eye.
“Did he try to do anything to you?” Jalisa didn’t know much about Stone and his quality of character, so she had to make sure.
“No, but…” Nikita tried to hide her smile with her hands. “I think it would be nice to hold hands. Maybe when I grow up, he could kiss me.”
“Nikita, you will find someone your own age. Stone is in his twenties; he has no business being with a little girl.” Jalisa shook her head.
Nikita pouted. Jalisa remembered being that age and still having so much to learn about the world. Her first crush was on a much older man, too. It was the teenage grandson of two elderly people from their church. He was nineteen while Jalisa was only thirteen. When he stayed with his grandparents for the summer, Jalisa fawned over him. She baked him brownies and flirted with him. She cut out pictures of wedding dresses from magazines and even told her father that they were getting married. She understood the appeal of older men, and also the danger.
“You get to have crushes.” Nikita stuck out her bottom lip.
“I’m an adult. If a man has a crush on me back, he’s not a pedophile.” Jalisa explained the difference.
“I’m practically a woman,” Nikita kept on. “You just like Stone for yourself.”
“Nikita,” Jalisa said firmly as the cab stopped in front of the first church. “Watch it. You’re not being kind.”
“You’re not Dad!” Nikita threw open the cab door and ran away into the church. Jalisa threw some bills at the driver and went after Nikita.
It wasn’t about Stone. Nikita was a girl who had just lost her father. There was no way of telling how her teenage emotions would react. In most ways, she was still a child. A child who was thrown into the cold and unforgiving world of reality too soon. Jalisa knew that this would not be the last time she lashed out.
Jalisa looked over the congregation space. It was massive, with pews made of rich mahogany and velvet. A worker dressed in a suit made adjustments to a sign near the back. Posters with an even grander church saying ‘Help us reach our goal!’ were posted near the donation and tithe cans. Jalisa immediately knew that it was not the church for them. Churches based on money were not of the Lord.
“Come on, Nikita.” Jalisa walked through the empty aisles to where Jalisa was pouting. “This is not for us.”
“Why do you always get to decide what is right for us?” Nikita balled up her fists. “Maybe I like it here.”
“I don’t decide; the Bible does. Nikita, look around. Churches shouldn’t have this much money. These seats cost thousands of dollars that could have gone to feed the hungry. Real disciples would sit on the dirt to hear the message of the Lord.” Jalisa sat down on the cushy pew and Nikita slid down the bench, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Maybe they mostly have old people who worship here. The elderly in our old church have padded seats.” Nikita defended the church and Jalisa sighed.
“Do you have the list? Maybe somewhere in a poorer part of town will focus on good deeds. Money corrupts.” Jalisa noticed Nikita was close to crying. “Do you disagree?”
“Does it matter?” Nikita huffed. “Mom.”
“You’re being needlessly cruel.” Jalisa focused on her faith so she wouldn’t snap back. “You need to pray for forgiveness.”
“I think I should decide what I do!” Nikita held her hands to her face and rubbed at the tears that were silently falling. Jalisa could see the fear in her sister’s shaking form. She pulled her in for a hug, and while Nikita resisted at first, eventually she hugged her older sister back.
“I’m so sorry.” Nikita sobbed. “I miss Dad so much it hurts. I can feel it in my chest and in my stomach.”
“Then you are alive.” Jalisa rubbed soothing circles into her sister’s back. “We will see Dad again. He is in heaven watching over us. Let’s do our best to make him proud.”
“Marie told me where Erik used to go to church.” Nikita sniffled. “Apparently, they also run a thrift store and a food bank.”
“Good. That sounds like a better place.” Jalisa looked around at all the stained glass windows. She understood wanting to build something beautiful for God to see, but, to her, that was a homeless shelter or a free clinic, not a golden steeple with a jeweled cross.
As the two girls rode to Erik’s old church, Jalisa thought more and more about how to help her sister grieve. A counseling group for girls Nikita’s age would be good, but she doubted something so specific would exist in their town. She would just have to pray for Nikita and make sure they were going to church as much as possible.
She also thought about Nikita’s crush. It was harmless right now, but it had to be stopped before anything happened. Jalisa would make an effort to introduce Nikita to boys her own age at their new church. After all, she was right. Jalisa got to have crushes. She had one right now.
Jalisa didn’t mean to have a crush on Erik; it just kind of happened one day. He was hanging around at the bar, swirling around an Old Fashioned. His handsome face was twisted up in pain, and his hands shook quite a bit. Jalisa found herself wanting to reach out, gather his hands in hers and whisper a prayer against his lips.
It wasn’t just a physical attraction, though Jalisa would not deny that it was there. He was very quiet, but when he did speak, he was whip-smart and had a great sense of humor. He respected her and was kind to her little sister, both of which were paramount to Jalisa. Erik often stopped by just to check on everyone in the apartment, making sure that they had food and necessities. Finding out Erik was a Christian was only icing on the cake.
They were greeted as soon as they walked through the doors to Erik’s old church. An older woman who smelled of peppermints pulled them into her arms and squeezed them tight. She murmured a prayer before letting them go.
“I’m sorry for intruding on our personal space, but Jesus told me you really needed a blessing.” She looked at the girls with the same kind eyes that their father had. “You’re not doing so well, are you?”
“No, we are not. It’s getting better,” Jalisa answered. She put one hand on her sister’s shoulder and squeezed. “We’re new in town, and we’re looking for a church to join.”
“You come on and stay for sermon then. Brother Mike is ideal for those of us who are having hard times. Afterward, we have a meal in the hall downstairs. He preaches love and light in the Lord, not any of that fire and brimstone stuff.” She directed the girls into the congregation room.
It was packed for such a small building. People of all colors, sizes, and ages had gathered around the podium. Some did not fit in the pews, so the young and healthy stood to the side. A couple of young men gave up their seats, and Jalisa tried to refuse, but they insisted. She sat in their seats and people all around them introduced themselves. Jalisa noticed Nikita watching a handsome mixed boy her own age walk around and hoped the two would hit it off.
Small children gathered around as two seeing eye dogs walked around the pews. The golden labs played with the children until the pastor came out. A woman in the back called their names, and they returned to their owner. Jalisa watched as they sat up in the pew like people. Nikita giggled.
“Brothers and sisters, welcome,” the pastor, a middle-aged black man with long dreadlocks and a suit with a blue tie, started. “Today is a new day. I hope today trea
ts you very well, but if it doesn't, I want you to know you are not alone. I want you all to unburden yourself today. There are those of you out there who have fear in your hearts. Trust in the Lord, and he will take that fear and replace it with love: the strongest force of all.”
“Amen,” a chorus of agreement spread through the room before the pastor went on.
“I’ve got to tell you, folks. I don’t fear evil. I don’t fear it one bit. Not a thing on this earth is stronger than Jesus. No evil a man or the devil can create, not a war or a famine or a plague, is more powerful than Jesus. I don’t care what you’re going through; you’re not alone. God is always there, and if you put your trust in him, he will kick evil’s butt.”
“Hallelujah.” A few people put their hands up.
“I don’t care is your car broke down. I don’t care if your house is about to be foreclosed. I don’t care if your son is on drugs. I don’t care if your baby momma is trying to take you to court. Put trust in the Lord and lean not on your own understanding.” The pastor looked around the room for a moment of silence. “Let us pray quickly for the new faces in the room as well as the old.”
The congregation bowed their heads, and the pastor closed his eyes. “Dear Heavenly Father, I thank you for giving us another day in this world you have made for us. I want to acknowledge the new faces here and ask that you bless them, for there is a reason they are here tonight. I ask that you bless the members here and request that you make their hearts soft to my voice so that they may hear the words which you have given me. In Jesus name, Amen.”
“Amen,” the congregation answered.
“Now, in the same way, I want you to know that we are never alone, I want you to see that God may use others to carry out his holy will. You may not see God walk through your door and cleanse your son of his addiction, but you may meet somebody sent by God to help you. Walking down the street there may be a nurse at a rehab facility. At the grocery store, there may be a mechanic willing to work pro bono. At the church, you may find help with your bills. Talk to us, people, we don’t have a lot of money, but we will take up donations to help members of the congregation.”
Her Russian Millionaire (BWWM Romance Book 1) Page 3