The Complication

by Nia Arthurs

  Elliot carefully selected another strand of my fresh-from-the-shower hair and raked the comb through the ends.

  “That’s right, love, from the bottom to the top. That’s the way,” I murmured.

  “I know how to comb out your hair.”

  “Do you?” I scrunched my nose. “Because it feels like you need a refresher course.”

  “It’s just a lot… thicker than I remember.”

  “Thanks to low manipulation and frequent deep conditioning. My hair grew a lot since college. I told you all that, but you were so excited to do this you didn’t listen.”

  “I just need to separate it into smaller sections, that’s all,” he said.

  I glanced at Elliot from the corner of my eye and saw him working hard. His blue eyes were narrowed with intense concentration and he winced every time he hit a knot.

  I laughed. “Love, you need some help?”

  “I’ve got this. Just sit down and relax.”

  I closed my eyes and enjoyed every stroke of his fingers on my scalp. This felt heavenly. Maybe I should have Elliot do my hair after every wash. The thought grew on me… but there were two problems.

  The first? Elliot’s dedication to not hurting me caused him to move painfully slow and something that should have taken two hours stretched for half the day. Sometimes, hair needed to be yanked if only to get on with our lives.

  The second? Elliot finished my very expensive jar of leave-in conditioner.

  “Love,” I moaned when I saw the scooped-out bottle, “this costs twenty-eight bucks downtown. How could you finish it all in one sitting?”

  “I’ll just buy you another one,” Elliot shrugged. His pale fingers were shriveled up like prunes.

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ll get dressed and then we’ll head to the store and get it.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, now.”

  Elliot sighed but didn’t complain.

  After I’d pulled on some clothes, he drove me to the store and strolled beside me to the natural hair aisle. The hallway was flooded with Creole women rocking their textured hair and they all shot Elliot ‘you-don’t-belong-here’ looks when he mingled among them.

  I held his hand, staking my claim and silently explaining his presence. Hot White Boy was with me. The other locals noticed and gave their respect, but they kept sneaking peeks.

  Guess I couldn’t blame them. Elliot, with his pale skin, blue eyes and blond hair, stood out among all these black queens.

  He didn’t seem bothered though. Thankfully.

  We took our time browsing, grabbed the items we needed and then headed to another aisle looking for ingredients for dinner.

  “Mami, what do you think about this steak?” Elliot asked, pointing to the packaged meat in the refrigerated section.

  I started to answer when a familiar face appeared in the distance. My eyes widened and I dragged Elliot to a crate of fruits. We ducked behind the pineapples, bananas and oranges.

  My chest heaved. Had he seen me?

  “What’s going on?” Elliot asked, his face flushed from the run. “Who are we hiding from?”

  “I think I saw Amir.”

  “What?”

  We both inched up until our eyes were over the crates. Amir stood across from us, his head bowed toward the ice cream section. He selected a flavor and tossed it in the cart.

  My heart twinged. It had been so long since I’d seen him. I wondered how he was doing, if he was happy. I didn’t expect him to forgive me. No way did I deserve that. Still, my hope was for him to love again and have that love returned in full.

  “Looks like he’s heading off,” Elliot whispered.

  I glanced up and saw Amir pushing his cart forward while perusing a list in his hand. Suddenly, his cart crashed against someone else’s. I gasped and covered my mouth, suffering second-hand embarrassment for him.

  “I’m so sorry,” a female voice cried out. “I didn’t see you.”

  “No, it was my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

  Elliot and I exchanged glances and then crept up again to spy on the scene.

  Amir stood, gawking at a gorgeous woman.

  I recognized her as one of the ladies that had been in the natural hair section. She sported a sexy, short haircut with delicate curls. Big hoops accentuated the look. Dark skin shimmered like silk and beautifully contrasted her white crop top and shorts.

  She moved away from her cart and stood closer to him. “I didn’t break anything, did I?”

  “No, I-I’m good,” Amir stammered.

  I turned to Elliot and mouthed, “She’s flirting!”

  He just looked confused.

  Men.

  I rolled my eyes and noticed that Amir was acting equally clueless. “Sorry again.” He tightened his fingers on the bar of the cart and tried to move away.

  The woman stopped him. “I’m Kayla.”

  “Amir,” he said after several seconds of thought, as if he’d forgotten his own name.

  “Amir, I think I might have ruined your ice cream.”

  “Not really…”

  “I owe you one.” She took out a business card and handed it over. “Call me when you need to collect. I know a great little parlor downtown.”

  I slapped Elliot’s shoulder in excitement, watching as Amir scratched his head and kept pushing his cart down the aisle.

  “Okay, that I noticed,” Elliot said.

  “You think he’s going to call?”

  “Did you see her? He’s going to call.”

  I slapped my hands on my hips. “Excuse me?”

  “What?” Elliot smiled mischievously and returned to the cart. He started pushing it in the opposite direction.

  I followed him. “Do you think she’s prettier than me?”

  “Let me think about it.”

  “Elliot Patrick White,” I hissed.

  He laughed and turned to me. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You could put Beyoncé in front of me and I’d still choose you.”

  “Good answer.” I wiggled my finger. “But just know that I would choose Beyoncé over you. In a heartbeat.”

  He chuckled. “Come on. Let’s go home. I’m hungry.”

  “For me?”

  “For steak.”

  I huffed.

  Elliot winked and added, “You’re dessert.”

  I laughed and clung to his arm, sighing contentedly.

  Elliot White was my best friend. My first love and my last. I’d go through all the confusion and the pain again if it led me back to him. Because, complications or not, this was where I belonged.

  Right here.

  By his side.

  THE END

  Hello! Thank you for coming along on this journey with me. If you enjoyed this story, I would be honored if you would let others know by writing a review on Amazon. Your recommendation will help other fans of interracial romance find my work and it would mean the world to me. Thank you for your support!

  Love, Nia

  A Word From The Author

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  I would love to hear from you at corcorozal@yahoo.com. You can also follow me on IG: Nia Arthurs @nia_bks and Twitter: @niaarthurs

  Also by Nia Arthurs

  The Taming Series

  Taming Mr. Jerkface

  Taming Mr. Charming

  Taming Mr. Know-it-all

  Taming Mr. Darcy

  The Richards Books

  Call Me Torn

  Call Me Broken

  Call Me Lost

  Standalones

  Chasing Daniel

  The Switch

  Axle’s Secret

  The Good Brother

  Something New

  Love In Man
y Shades Series

  Cece & David

  Cece & David 2

  Cece & David 3

  Cece & David 4

  Lovesick Series

  Play

  Dance

  Trust

  Sneak Peek

  Swipe on for an excerpt of Sweet Treats: An AMBW Romance

  Enjoy!

  Chapter 1

  Saying ‘no’ wasn’t in her DNA.

  At least, not when it came to the people she loved. And that was on a good day. Most of the time, Sky Johnson couldn’t sum up the courage to break anyone’s heart.

  Something traumatic must have happened in her early development. Or maybe she’d missed that episode of Barney the Purple Dinosaur.

  Call her a chump or a fool or a super-sized door-mat, Sky didn’t feel like herself if a request was made and she didn’t do everything but drain her lifeblood to get it done.

  Which was why her hands were slick with sweat and her voice cracked as she stood before her cousin Phillip bright and early on Monday morning.

  “It’s only a couple hundred, Sky,” Phil pleaded. His brown eyes—already an impressive size thanks to their placement on his big forehead—bulged.

  She hesitated, going cock-eyed as one eyeball leaned toward her cousin and the other went flying left to the stacks of bills mounted like The Leaning Tower of Pisa on her table.

  Phil wrapped his hands around her wrist and pushed out his thick bottom lip. His chunky cheeks bunched under his eyes so they collapsed into twin slits.

  The pout was so familiar she had a flashback to when she was a kid babysitting Phil while her mother was at work.

  “Just one more episode, Sky-Sky,” he used to say.

  “Just one more cookie.”

  “Just one more game.”

  She fell for it every time.

  How could she not? He felt more like her surrogate son than a cousin.

  Sky was ten when her aunt and uncle died and her mother took Phil in. Mom had to work two jobs just to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads. Her job was to keep Phillip from getting underfoot.

  She had done so flawlessly.

  So flawlessly that he still relied on her to bail him out of trouble now that they were both grown.

  “Hm? Sky-Sky?” Philip tilted his head and batted his thin eyelashes.

  Great. He’d pulled out the big guns. Sky was putty when he used that dumb, childhood nickname.

  Must resist. Must…

  A switch in her brain flipped without her consent.

  Suddenly, he wasn’t Phillip-her-hard-backed-twenty-year-old-cousin. He was Phillip-the-kid-she-used-to-rock-to-sleep. Innocent. Helpless. Oblivious.

  His grip on her arm tightened. Phil was dressed for the balmy weather in a wife-beater that strained against his prominent stomach, long shorts, and those fancy Nike slippers.

  She set one hand on top of his. Her warm brown skin blended seamlessly with his complexion like a peanut butter and dark chocolate mix.

  “Are you okay, Phil? This isn’t just about money, is it?”

  “I’m stressed Sky.” He shook his head and stared at the ground like a lost child. “You know I have high blood pressure and the doctors don’t know how to fix it. I think it’s hereditary.”

  “What? I thought you were going to get treated for that. Didn’t I give you five hundred last month so you could pay for the consultation in Mexico?”

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah, you did. The report over there wasn’t good either.”

  “What about your new job? You said they had worker’s insurance, right?”

  “I realized something important, Sky.” He clasped her shoulder and leaned in like an old man about to unleash a great nugget of wisdom. “It’s impossible for me to work with my pressure so high. It’s too dangerous.”

  She gasped. “Wait… you quit your job again?”

  “That boss was a total a—” At Sky’s look of censure, Phil amended. “He was a total jerk. The guy had no chill. He’d ride you for the smallest thing. No one could last under him.”

  “You barely did a month.”

  “Exactly.” Phillip nodded. “That should tell you how crazy he was.”

  “I’m sorry, Phillip. I want to help. You know I’d do anything for you. But even a hundred is a lot for me right now—”

  “Sky, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency.”

  “Can’t you talk to your friends or old colleagues? Maybe they can help.”

  “They’re all broke. You’re the only family I’ve got, Sky.”

  She rubbed the bridge of her nose as her head started to ache. “This is a really bad time, Phil.”

  Annoyance flashed in his eyes. “I came all the way down here from Belmopan and my bus leaves soon. Are you going to give me the money or not?”

  Sky chewed on her bottom lip and worried the hem of her blouse. Her slender fingers dipped to the front pocket of her apron where she’d hidden the money for this month’s rent when she heard Phillip walking in.

  “Give me a minute. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Sky would have to be blind to miss the ‘victory’ stamped across his boyish face. If she weren’t so determined to help him despite her suspicions, she would have slapped that smile right off.

  Her hard-earned money was falling into Phillip’s clammy hands.

  And for what?

  Instead of unleashing those harsh thoughts, she ducked her head and shuffled to the bathroom so Phillip couldn’t see how much she had stuffed in that envelope.

  Just because she had a weakness for giving in didn’t mean she had to be stupid about it.

  She locked the door behind her and pulled the money out of her fluffy pink apron. Her fingers shook as she counted the crinkled twenties and tens.

  I’ll make it up in sales today.

  Her reassurances fell flat. Sky had no business giving Phillip anything, but her brain and her body had a minor case of miscommunication. While her brain warned that she should pause and think through this, her fingers snatched the money and sectioned off an amount.

  Five seconds later, she strode outside and thrust the crumpled bills at Phillip. “Here.”

  “You’re the best, Sky!” His big-toothed grin was enough to power a generator for an entire day. “I’ll see you later!” Phillip galloped out of the store.

  “You need to pay me”— the door banged shut—“back.”

  Silence.

  She sighed and collapsed against the glossy counter above the display case.

  Her eyes roved the interior of her mother’s shop. Sky had taken out a loan to renovate the place and now it boasted tiled floors, bright skylights and a tiny dining section near the window.

  Nestled in the heart of the business district, this area was the perfect place for a café with potential customers lurking all around.

  She had the grit, the baking skills and the perfect location. Sweet Treats should have been a paint-by-the-dots success.

  But it wasn’t.

  Sky was struggling. It would be a miracle if she lasted another year.

  A rich fragrance filled the store, jarring her out of her contemplation.

  Sky straightened. “Shoot! The fried jacks!”

  The side door opened just as she skated into the kitchen and pulled the handle of the industrial oven.

  Fried jacks stuffed with eggs and cheese sat golden brown in parchment-lined baking dishes. The fluffy goods were flaky at the top. Inside, they’d be chewy and cheesy masterpieces.

  “That smells great,” a voice said.

  “Morning, Jo.” Sky expertly slid her hands into an oven mitt and pulled the pastries out.

  Joana Lee Gregory appeared at Sky’s side, clutching an earthy brown purse. She pulled her sunshades up over her curly hair, revealing deep-set brown eyes.

  Sky closed the oven and gave her friend and part-time worker a once over. Admiration and a little bit of jealousy wafted through her.

  It was
a natural reaction to someone as effortlessly stunning as Jo.

  With her light brown skin and thick hair thanks to her half-black and half-Asian heritage, Jo had hit the genetic jackpot. Short and curvy with enough class to fill the Government House, she dominated the front counter of the store like a queen.

  Half the male regulars came to the café for the fried jacks, and the other half came to flirt with Jo.

  “They’re a little burnt.” Sky observed fretfully. “You don’t think it’s too bad, do you?”

  “They’re fine.”

  She blew out a breath. “Good.”

  Jo eyed her. “But you don’t normally burn your best-sellers. Is something wrong?”

  “No. I just… I was a little distracted. Phillip dropped by today.”

  Jo clasped her hands on her hips. “You’re kidding. What did that bum want now?”

  “He’s not a bum,” Sky defended. “He’s a good kid. He’s just… misguided.”

  “He’s lazy, is what he is. If I’d been here—”

  “If you’d been here, there would have been an MMA-level fight.”

  “You know it.” Jo clenched her fist and threw a punch into the air.

  Sky grinned.

  Jo Gregory was kindness personified… until she saw anything that was perceived as injustice. An idiot would take her five-foot-two-height and assume she wasn’t a threat.

  “It’s almost time to open,” Sky said with a glance at her watch. “I already baked the johnny cakes and the paninis. I’m going to warm up the second batch of fried jacks and bring them out to you.”

  Jo snatched Sky’s hand so she couldn’t walk off. “Wait.”

  “There’s no time. I have to—”

  “What did you give him?”

  Sky stalled and avoided her friend’s dark eyes.

  Jo’s gaze was unwavering, focused. “Well? How much?”

  “Not a lot.” Sky pulled her lips in and stubbed her toe against the tile. “I swear.”

  “What’s your definition of ‘not a lot’? Did you give him more than a hundred?”