Taste Test (A Dave East Story)

Chapter 3

Dave

"My moms said you needed some help?" I say to the woman at the car.

I'm not gonna lie though, her ass is lookin' real nice in them leggin' joints. I just wanna grab it.

"Just one second please," she says. 

She stands up and turns around and I almost choke on air.

"Well, if it isn't Mr. Dave East," she says real slick like.

This is shorty from yesterday. She lookin' bad as hell right now too.

"It's Kennedy, right?" I ask.

"Yes. Kennedy Shaw, of KenShaw Eats," she says as she extends her hands for a handshake.

I shake her hand and smile, "Oh so you cooking for me tonight?"

"I am," she says confidently.

"Mmh. I hope I like what I taste." I say.

"Oh I know you will. Come grab these boxes," she demands.

"Yes ma'am," I say.

Shorty feisty as hell. I walk over to the car and start to grab the boxes out. Roc and Shooter come outside to help.

"Hello gentleman. I'm Kennedy Shaw," I hear from behind me.

I turn around from getting some boxes and see   Kennedy reaching her hand out to shake Roc's hand. Shooter looks at me and eyeballs towards her.

"It's nice to meet you gentlemen," she says.

"Didn't we see you yesterday wit ya friends?" Shooter asks while grabbbing boxes out of my hand.

"Yes, you did. Will that be a problem Mr...?"

"Shooter," he says.

"Is that the name your mother gave you?" she asks.

"Call me Will," Shooter says submissively.

Damn. She got this nigga saying his government name and shit. I chuckle and walk into the house to take the boxes into the kitchen. After about 5 more trips, everything is inside of the kitchen. She got 3 workers with her and they asses look like they finna cook some good ass shit.

"Y'all need anything right now?" I ask as I watch them get things ready.

I see Kennedy in the corner taking off her heels to put on some sneakers. She pulls her hair back into a bun and secured it with a rubber band. A nigga can't help but to look at that body. Her ass is sitting right as hell in them pants.

"We're all good in here, boss," the little white girl says. She must throw down like a black woman if she's cooking with Kennedy.

Millie comes into the kitchen and stands next to me. "What's going on in here?" she asks.

"They"re about to get dinner started," I say as I watch Kennedy.

"Excuse me? Are you Kennedy Rae?" Millie asks.

"I am!" Kennedy says with a smile.

"Your food always looks good as hell on Insta. I need to book you for a dinner for two," Millie says.

"I'm 'bouta go downstairs in the basement. You coming?" I ask Millie.

"Yeah. I am not staying up here with your crazy ass mom," she mutters.

"Aye watch ya fucking mouth about my moms," I say, "Forreal."

She rolls her eyes. This girls attitude is on another level and it's really startin' to irritate me. We go downstairs to the basement and leave the older folks upstairs.