Twenty-five year old Adira Thompson finds herself in a position where she's single and pregnant, with dreams of becoming a plastic surgeon.
She and her family have a love for basketball, particularly their home team in Los Angeles. Her world someho...
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I leaned in closer to him to get a piece of lint out of his hair. Wow, this man smell so good. Of course, he would, he's probably at the very least dipped in gold or something. He wore an orange pullover sweater and matching pants, from his clothing line. The solid gold chain around his neck shined noticeably.
"Sorry I was getting this." I showed him the lint in my hand. His guards took a step back. They closed in on us when they saw me leaning in.
"My bad." He turned to his guards on each end of the aisle, signaling them to back up some more. They did.
"What are you doing here, don't you have someone to do this for you?" I questioned him.
"I like to pick up my own groceries." He paused, smiling, shifting his weight over to his right foot. "What, —I can't shop too?" He tilted his head to the side. I examined his cart. He looked over at mine.
"Hmm."
"What does hmm mean?" He questioned.
"Nothing, you plan on buying the entire store?"
He gazed down at his cart in front of him while chewing at the insides of his cheeks. "I don't come often. I'm restocking my pantry."
"Oh." I gave him a weak smile, then turned back to the tea. I noticed he peeked down at my ID badge for work I forgot to take off.
"I see you took my advice. You've been winning." I picked up a box of ginger tea.
"You've been keeping up." He replied, sounding impressed.
"Yes." I glanced at him.
"So you really follow sports?" He raised his eyebrows, still looking at me.
"Sure, do mainly basketball and specifically right here in my home city," I answered with little emotion, perhaps dry. I had somewhat of a stressful day, a day that should've been one of the happiest.
"Cool." He nodded, I dropped the box of tea in my cart. "Look I don't mean to pry, but are you ok?"
I gave him an arched questionable gaze and replied quickly. "What do you mean? Of course, I'm ok."
"Ok, —well, it was good seeing you." He stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do next, I assumed.
"You too." I smiled, looking into his beautiful brown eyes. He nodded, walking off pushing his cart. I noticed an audience forming.
He and his guards went on to the register and waited in line.
"Mr. Martin if you would like to skip, you can go ahead of me." I heard a lady speak loudly, standing next to a group of ladies holding up her phone, recording.
I couldn't hear what his response was, but he remained in place. From where I was standing, I could see him, but I couldn't hear everything. I was intrigued to know what Kenzo Martin was like in real life. So I pushed my cart a little closer down the aisle to the front of the store.
