chapter 3

Nickola's alarm beeps. "Ugh," she groans as she reaches for her phone to disarm it. 7:15 the phone reads. After brushing her teeth she puts on her work uniform and goes to Zara's room. "Zara time to wake up. Vanessa's gonna be here to get you in a few," she says putting Zara's outfit for the day on her bed. Zara moans before turning on her other side. Nickola tickles her on her collar bone and Zara giggles. "Ok mom, I'm up!"

In the bathroom Nickola puts on foundation and darkens her eyebrows. "When do I get to wear makeup?" Zara asks squeezing toothpaste on her toothbrush.

"Not for a long time. Maybe when you're sixteen." She puts concealer under each eye and gently pats it with her middle finger.

Zara spits in the sink and silently counts on her fingers. "Eight years," she whines. "Can't I just put on some of that stuff for your cheeks?" she fills her mouth with water, swishes and spits into the sink.

Nickola turns to Zara," maybe for Christmas."

"Why do you have to look pretty to go to work?" Zara asks as she watches her mother apply mascara to her eyelashes.

"I don't have to, I want to. Makes me feel good."

"I think you're pretty anyway," Zara smiles showing her one dimple. Nickola kisses her cheek, "thank you daughter."

She examines herself in the mirror. "Who you trying to look good for? You always talking to these guys," said Wes. "They're my regulars." "You think they're being nice. All they wanna do is screw you." There's a knock at the door. "Coming," she shouts. "Zara get your backpack." Nickola hurries to the front door and lets Vanessa in. "Hey, thanks again for doing this."

"Yeah no problem. I'm picking you up at 5:00 right?" Vanessa ask.

"Please," Nickola says helping Zara get her backpack on.

"And we're still getting our nails done Friday?"

"Yes," she hugs Zara. "Have a good day at school," she shouts as Zara runs to the car. "See ya later," Vanessa says as she walks out. Nickola waves to Trent and Madalyn from the door. She watches as they drive away.

A bell rings when she opens the door to enter the car shop. A man with medium brown skin and light brown eyes appears from an office. "Hi, how can I help you?" he says.

"I'm having trouble starting my car. It shakes and the dash lights flash when I try to start it."

He turns to grab a clipboard. His biceps look suffocated in the gray work shirt he's wearing. "Just need to fill out the top part," he hands Nickola a clipboard. His goatee perfectly outlines his full lips. Nickola fills out the paper and gives it back to him. "And the key," he says as he types something into the computer. Nickola looks at her watch and hands him the key, "Would I be able to get a ride to work?"

"Sure, where you headed?"

"Met Transit on center drive," she notices the name Miles embroidered above his shirt pocket.

He peaks his head into the garage, "Scottie there's a customer that needs a ride."

A heavy set short man with red hair comes from the garage, "Where to?" he asks Nickola.

"Center drive," she answers. "Do you think it will be ready today?" she asks Miles.

"We'll take a look and I'll call you to let you know." Nickola thanks him and leaves with the red haired man.

Its 5:00 pm. Nickola clocks out, walks to the foyer and waits at the entrance inside of the building. Just as she is pulling out her phone from her work bag a black Audi with tinted windows pulls up. She exits the building and the front passenger side window rolls down.

"Herring, what are you doing here?" She steps up to the passenger side door.

"Trent is not well so Vanessa asked if I could pick you up. I sent you a message," he says. Nickola opens the door and gets inside. She takes a look at her text messages;

Vannesa: Trent just puked all over himself. Herring is gonna pick you up.

Unknown number : Hey this is Herring. Vanessa asked if I could pick you up. On the way now.

"Where to?" he asks.

"The Midas on Brewster Boulevard," she looks around the inside of the vehicle. "This is a nice car."

"Thank you, I picked it up yesterday," he says as he puts the address in the GPS.

The car has all black interior, leather seats, manual transmission, and touch screen controls. "What happened with your car?" he asks.

"Not sure. It was having trouble starting." The radio volume is low but she can hear music playing. "I didn't take you for a rap guy," she says with slight surprise in her voice.

He smiles, "this is actually a demo from Bronze. But yeah, back home I like to listen to U.K. rap."

He turns the volume up. Nickola's eyes wander to his hand on the shifter. A gold bracelet hangs from his wrist. He's wearing light blue distressed jeans and a plain white t-shirt that gives a soft glow to his warm ivory skin. Two gold necklaces short in length hang from his neck. In between shifting he takes the longer chain and makes a half circle with it above his chin but below his bottom lip. Her eyes stop at his lips. Your destination is on the left speaks the GPS. Nickola snaps her head forward. Herring pulls into a parking space.

"You need me to wait?"

"No, I got a message it was ready," she said getting out of the car. "Thanks, I really appreciate this."

"Anytime," he smiles and drives away.