Zane's Busy Bodies: Chocolate Flava 4 by Zane Page A

said.
    “I know. Monica, you’re not going to believe this, but Mr. Johnson called me back and told me that they were willing to come down on the price of the house. So, baby, that house is going to be ours in a couple of days!”
    We both screamed and yelled because it was our dream home. A few days later, we met with Mr. Johnson to seal the deal. We put our signatures on all the needed paperwork. He shook our hands and said, “Congratulations, enjoy your new home,” and handed us the keys and paperwork with a beautiful smile.
    Richard and I kissed and he hugged me so tight that he lifted me off the ground a few inches. On the way out of the signing, Mr. Johnson walked us out of the office and congratulated us again. My husband told him, “Thanks again, but we got to get out of here to go christen our new home,” while looking at me passionately.
    I don’t know why he’s thanking Mr. Johnson; he should be thanking my pussy!
    I turned back to Alexis, smiled, and said, “Yes, thank you, Mr. Johnson.”
    I gave him a wink and he winked back.

On the Eve of Tomorrow
    Ran Walker
    Grant Darby could barely hear the light knocking at the front door, and had the apartment still been full of boxes and furniture, he might not have heard it at all. He was surprised by how quickly he could move through an empty apartment. Except for the day he’d moved in, he had never seen the place this bare. The power would be turned off the next day, probably shortly after he left the apartment for the last time, headed to Virginia for grad school. Still, he had chosen to stay there one last night, although his roommate had gone home to Knoxville earlier that week. Only one person knew he was still in Atlanta—and she was at the front door right now.
    He opened the door casually, as if he had not been waiting for her the last hour.
    “Come on in,” he offered, needlessly, as she walked into the dark apartment. Only the streetlights outside glinting through the blinds gave any kind of lighting to the front room.
    “No power?” Kamara said, a slight chuckle in her voice.
    “It’s on until tomorrow.”
    “I see. So this is for me, then?”
    He smiled and took her hand, guiding her down the hall into the master bedroom in the back of the apartment. The blinds were parted, angled downward so that they could look out, but no one could look in.
    “They never did fix your front door,” Kamara said.
    “I guess it doesn’t matter now,” he responded. He had reported the hole in the outer part of his door when he moved into the apartment complex, and the front office had assured him it would be fixed. They never came to fix it, though. At first Grant had started to go down and raise hell, especially since he was the only one in the building paying full price for his rent, but the hole didn’t go all the way through the door and since none of his company seemed to complain about it, he let the issue go. In fact, as time went on, the hole became part of the apartment’s character, a reminder that he had slummed it his last year in college before heading on to Virginia.
    “Want anything to drink?” he offered.
    “Do you have anything to drink in here?”
    “Some bottled water left over from when I loaded up the truck.”
    “Sure, then.”
    As he walked back toward the front of the apartment to the kitchen, he marveled at the fact that Kamara had even come. She was not his girlfriend and would probably never be, now that he was leaving Atlanta. He had run into her the previous day while combing the bookstore for college and Greek paraphernalia to take with him. They had had three classes together over the past two years and had always been cordial, but it wasn’t until they pledged and became fraternity brother and sorority sister that they began to talk more regularly. Even then, he had suppressed his attraction to her because there was already so much hooking up going on between the frats and sorors. Still, he considered her a good