ᴍɪɢɪ ᴠᴀʀɢᴀs
𝗳𝞂𝛍𝗿 𝞈𝒆𝒆𝗞𝙨 𝗹𝝰𝙩𝒆𝗿:
Code-switching and multitasking with a burning blunt on a Friday morning is my weekly pattern now.
The clock struck ten thirty and today's schedule was no different. Coming through the speakers of my home office phone was Ms. Tamela at DFW. Then, there's James, on my iPhone.
He called concerning a late shipment. In five days, From the Sole, is having an in-store and online flash sale — so this delayed delivery is needed sooner rather than later.
"Just send me a screenshot of the QR code and I'll sign into the delivery app." I told James, making sure to mute Tamela's side of the conversation.
"Alright, I gotta find it. Shit." A low grin left me at James' exhausted expression.
DFW and FTS were two vastly different operations — which required different skill levels. One outlet ran itself with the amount of staffing and intelligence involved. While FTS demonstrated more of a family-operated function.
With James on his barcode mission, I gave time to Tamela's current list of concerns. As DFW's Senior Property Manager, her list could be extravagant at moments. Today is nothing short of the typical, but it also includes hiring an assistant. Plus a reminder to myself about endorsement deals, meetings with our newest investors, and eviction plans.
"I'll consider it," I stated after unmuting the office line. "The idea of the protection plan was to be proactive. Get ahead of the late fees and before the resident hits three months of nonpayment. One of your candidates is currently sitting at five months of nonpayment and breadcrumbing me with three hundred dollar checks. While living inside a twelve hundred dollar apartment,"
My own words made me stop and inhale my blunt. Sometimes? I rather go back to my old ways of making money.
Being the CEO of DFW has come with many blessings and perks, advantages even in my personal life. There's an unspoken curse within the real estate industry.
"Also, there are eight receptionists. I would recommend that you find the two of them, preferably with A.A degrees to offer the position to. Or whichever candidate fits the role better. After a month or so, we'll replace the receptionist position."
Tamela could be heard finalizing her notes on the points made by myself.
An interrupting knock came from the opposite side of my office doors. I knew who it was before she poked her head inside.
"What's up, mama?" I muted the phone back, smiling as Sehven stepped inside the office.
She made a beeline for my desk. Her smile turned into a blushing grin and I love having that effect on her.
Turning my chair, I allowed the space for Sehven to take a seat, licking my lips when her arms wrapped around my neck. My own hands navigated to her backside in the sweats.
"Hi," She whispered in a soft tone. "You okay?"
"I'm good, baby." She kissed my neck before attempting to stand up — the moment over in her mind. But? My grip tightened and Sehven shook her head.
"Migi, move...I didn't come for that or to stay long. Nasty self."
Just her presence alone made me relax and the irritation evaporate. Sehven attempted to stand, but my hands had a mind of their own while tracing the outline of her frame.
"I like knowing when you ain't got no panties on. And when you ain't got a bra on. Ya' nipples get hard in like two seconds." She rolled her eyes and I smirked, locked in on the curve of her titties before going back to her face.
