Addicted 2 Moni(editing before completion for book publishing reason)

First glance, Lasting impression

Harmony☝️

I groan as I climb into bed, pulling the covers over me. A quick glance at the clock shows it's already 2 a.m.

"Shit," I mutter, knowing I've only got a few hours before I need to get up. My father's been on my back about reviewing some files for the firm.

I don't see why it has to be me when James practically leaps at every chance to prove himself. James is everything my father ever wanted in a son—early to work, perfectly organized, and always ready to follow orders without question.

I do my part, but it's never enough. Why does James get all the praise, the trust, the respect?

Since Mom passed, Dad hasn't looked at me the same. He blames me for not telling him about her breast cancer, as if that could've changed anything. Mom didn't want him to know—she didn't want to distract him when the firm was swamped in 2016 after the Wells Fargo scandal.

The firm became his life. He lived there, breathed there, and even found ways to entertain himself there when he wasn't faithful to Mom. Their relationship drifted, and I think losing her without a chance to apologize broke him in ways he won't admit.

I sigh, setting my alarm for 7 a.m. and rolling over, hoping for at least a few hours of sleep.
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Morning Routine

"BEEP...BEEP...BEEP!" My alarm blares, dragging me from whatever light sleep I managed to get.

I slap it off, reaching for my phone, and smirk at the notifications lighting up my screen.

The first is from Sabrina, the flirty white girl in the mailroom:

MailGirl: Come thru today. I have a package for you, Daddy. 😋
Me: Don't unwrap it without me. 😈

The next is from Kimberly, the long-haired mixed girl at Starbucks:

KimKat: Wayne... I want some dick. 😩
Me: Soon. Keep it tight for me.

I scroll through a few more messages and snaps before tossing my phone onto the bed and hopping into the shower.

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On the Road

Keys in hand, I double-check the house to make sure I didn't forget anything. With my briefcase slung over my shoulder, I head out to my car, tossing the case onto the passenger seat before starting the engine.

The streets are quiet, the air crisp in the early morning. I cruise down Lincoln Blvd., stopping at a red light. The road ahead is empty, no cars, no cameras. My foot hovers over the brake, and I'm about to run it when......

A thick, caramel-skinned woman jogs across the street in front of me, her white workout suit clinging to her curves like it was painted on. Her ponytail swings with each stride, and her glossy full lips catch the faint morning light.

She glances at my car, her glare sharp, though I know she can't see me through the tinted windows. Her eyes—bright, piercing green.....

For a second, I forget where I am. She glances back once more before jogging away, leaving me in awe. Damn.

When the light changes, I turn in the direction she ran-coincidentally, the way I was headed anyway—but by the time I reach the end of the street, she's gone.———————————————————————————————————————————————