Cherry’s Jubilee (Lunchtime Chronicles: Season 7)

Chapter 1

Cherry

“Tell them, Mandy,” I say to no one as I listen to my favorite radio personality podcast.

“So, you mean to tell me,” Mandy says, “that your ratchet ass sister stole your boyfriend, is marrying him in six months, and your entire family is on board?”

“Yes,” the caller says with a sniffle.

“Girl, stop crying! It’s time to go scorched earth.” Mandy stops and takes a loud, dramatic breath. “And she not only asked you to be her maid of honor but expects you to pay for part of the wedding, throw her a shower, plan, and pay for a bachelorette party? Let me ask you something. Do you have the word doormat tattooed on your forehead?” When the caller remains quiet, Mandy says, “Answer me.”

“No.”

“Hell no, you are no one’s doormat. No one is going to wipe their feet on your face, girlie. Listen, you call that triflin' ass sister and her fiancé and tell them they can kiss your plump, black ass. They are not entitled to your time, energy, or money. And listen, they both did you dirty, and karma has a way of getting back at people. That’s my pep talk. Now, I’m going to call you out.”

“What? What did I do?” she asks, and I cackle.

“You let these people live rent-free in your head when they don’t deserve it. You show people how to treat you, and you have shown them they are allowed to treat you badly. Stiffen your spine. Get some sass. Tell them off and go on with your life. Go no contact until they get their act right.”

The call ends, but I find myself agreeing with everything Messy Mandy just said.

That is why I’m avoiding my cousin’s party today, but despite what she thinks, she did not steal a man away from me. I’ll let her believe it until it’s time for me to wipe the smug look off her face.

“Ugh!” I say, determined to take Mandy’s sage advice and not let these toxic relatives live rent-free in my head.

I knew I shouldn’t have opened my door. The minute I did and saw who was on the other side, I knew I messed up. He sticks one of his big ass feet inside, preventing me from closing it. But I try anyway. All with no success because the person trying to get in is six-foot-six and two-hundred-eighty pounds.

“Dammit, Kirby,” I grumble while I try and shove at his chest. He laughs as if my attempt to defend myself is amusing. He pushes the door in, and I stumble back. He grabs my hand and stops me from falling on my ass.

I should have just fallen because, in the next instant, he’s throwing me over his shoulder and running out of my apartment with me like I’m a bag of dirty laundry.

“Put me down, you big bully!”

He doesn’t listen. He flies down the stairs from my fourth-floor apartment to the second floor. I start to get nauseous as he runs down the hall. Of course, his door is open, and when we get inside, he drops me on his couch.

I look up into eyes similar to mine .

“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” my sister, Solange, asks.

“I told you I’m not going. There was no point in sending your thug of a husband to kidnap me.” I blow a breath up. “I should call the police and press charges on both of you. You’re the worst kind of woman, Sol. The kind who lets a man kidnap her sister.”

She rolls her eyes and extends her hands to Kirby. He slaps some clothes into them, and she throws them in my face.

“Put that shit on, and let’s go. I need your help,” she says. “And Kirby is my muscle. Aren’t you, baby?” She looks into his face and bats her eyes. He flexes his bicep and kisses it while he wiggles his brows at her.

“No one says no to my wife. Not even me,” Kirby says. “We have to go.” He whistles and gestures for me to pick up the clothes, then points to the bathroom.

I stand, knowing I’m defeated, but I still get in my brother-in-law’s face and stick my middle finger in it. All he does is grin. There’s no one on earth I love more than my sister, and Kirby is a close second. She needs me or she wouldn’t have asked. Since they just started their catering business, I guess the free labor I can provide is the best kind.

“I don’t know why you agreed to do this shit anyway,” I grumble. “And you’re a caterer, so why did you plan this stupid party?”

“Because they asked and it’s the first job we’ve had in months. We also need money to eat. It’s an expensive little habit we’ve picked up,” Solange says. “And my plans of being a gold digger fell through.” She gives her husband the side-eye.

“Sorry I didn’t make it into the NFL, baby,” he says. “Maybe I can make it up to you tonight.” He lifts his shirt and starts to gyrate.

I ignore them and leave for the bathroom to change into the t-shirt with their company logo.

I’ve worked at their events before, and it’s never been a big deal. I don’t take payment, but if I tend bar like I usually do, I get tips, which more than makes up for it, but this event is different .

This is the engagement party of Ashley Turner, my cousin of the same age, rival, and one of the vilest human beings I’ve ever met. Well, I’m her rival only in her mind. I couldn’t give a fuck what she does since I avoid her and her side of the family. In fact, I don’t remember the last time I laid eyes on her, and that’s just how I like it.

Their side of the family thinks they are better than ours. My mother is the product of an affair and has always been treated like a second-class citizen by her half-siblings. She’s been chasing their love and approval all my life. At times, she’s allowed them to treat Solange and me like second-class citizens too, but our father has always protected us.

For a bunch of people who think they are superior, they’ve always tried to copy or take whatever my sister and I have. I got into a better college than Ashley and majored in accounting. Two years later, she transferred to the same school and the same major. It was too hard for her, and she soon changed her major to Sociology.

I’m convinced she only got with the man she’s engaged to because she thought I was interested in him. The joke’s on her, though, because that was never the case. But she’s let it drop to her mother and sister a few times that she took him from me.

“Would I be terrible for wishing that her marriage fails?” I yell through the bathroom door.

“Terrible but understandable. Let’s not wish that until the check clears,” Solange yells back.

Once I put on the t-shirt and the pants she gave me, I open the door and stick my head out. “You haven’t been paid yet?”

“They paid the initial fifty percent. They still owe me half.”

I purse my lips but keep them shut. I don’t like the sound of that. Ashley is a snake, just like her mother. That’s where she learned it from, and Solange is too trusting for her own good. But I understand why she took the job. She needs it, and she’s hoping this will bring her more work. I’m fine with that, but I hate having to be a part of it .

“Let’s go,” I grumble. “The last fucking thing I need is to be working on a Saturday. Especially since I just got back from a business trip.”

As an auditor for the accounting firm, I often travel for work, though I prefer assignments that can be done remotely.

“So, it’s going to be a full day,” Simone says in a sing-song voice. “We have to set up the tables and chairs, and then you’ll need to change and work the bar for the party.”

“I’m getting drunk,” I mutter.

“And if you can smile, that would be great,” Solange says as if she didn’t hear me. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep Ashley away from you.”

“I don’t know how you can do that at her party, but whatever.”

“And we’ll pay you because I know this is a lot to ask.”

“No, you won’t. You can’t afford to, but I’m not sharing my tips with you like I normally do.” I mean that part. I’ll do anything for my sister and Kirby, but even I have my limits.

Ashley Turner and her mother are my limits.