That realization sat in his chest like a warning. He tried to ignore it.But he knew better.More importantly, he knew himself. Najee watched her disappear down the hallway, the soft sound of her shoes fading against the tile. For a moment, he stayed seated, telling himself to let her go.To let the session end where it ended. Keep this professional. Ignore that familiar urge to intervene.But then he glanced out the window toward the schoolyard. And there she was. Alone. Standing in the drizzle among a handful of parents waiting for dismissal. Najee checked his watch. He had ten minutes until the bell rang, and the schoolyard filled with kids and staff. Before he could talk himself out of it, he stood, grabbed his blazer and umbrella, and headed for the door. When he finally stepped outside, the rain wasn’t mist anymore. It was steady, and had picked up, significantly. He jogged across the lot, careful not to startle her. She looked lost in thought, arms folded tight, scarf damp at the edges. “Thought you might need some cover out here,” he said, lifting the umbrella over her head. She looked up, surprised, then gave a small, tired smile. “Thank you,” she said softly. For a moment,neither of them spoke. Just the rain between them. “I think I owe you an apology,” she said finally. He glanced down at her.
“Yeah? For what?”
“I don’t know.” She exhaled, watching the rain drip from the edge of the umbrella.
“Maybe for how I came into the session. I was hostile and you didn’t deserve all that.” Najee shrugged lightly. “It’s part of the job.” She shook her head. “Still. I thought that session was gonna be you trying to dissect me and pick apart my parenting. I just want Max to get the help he needs. To get better.” Najee’s voice stayed calm. “Helping you helps him, Jackie. You are a package deal. He’s an extension of you.” She went quiet. But the way she looked at him now, like something finally clicked, said enough. “Maybe,” she murmured, more to herself than him. Then she sighed.
“You ever had one of those days that just refuses to take its foot off your neck?” He smiled faintly. “Only every Tuesday.” That pulled a soft laugh from her. “I got this event setup tomorrow,” she said. “Small birthday dinner. Thirty people. Some half-ass balloon garland, centerpieces, backdrop installs. Sounded like light work when I booked it. But now…” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I might send the deposit back. I can’t have Max out that late on a school night. Not in that part of the city.”
“You’re thinking about canceling?” he asked. “Yeah,” she admitted. “The venue’s shady. No parking. No security. I don’t even like riding through that area solo, let alone with my baby. Plus, I’m dog-tired. I barely made it here today, and my whole crew got COVID.” Najee nodded once, then said, “So let me help you.” She looked up quick, brow lifting even behind her shades. “Help me? Like… you?”
“Yeah. Me.” She smirked. “Respectfully, Doc, I don’t think it’s safe for you either.”
He chuckled. “Don’t let the blazer fool you.” That pulled a real laugh out of her.
“You really tryna blow up balloons and fold linen napkins, Dr. Nigel?”
“Call me Najee,” he said. “And yes. Why not?” She shook her head, still smiling. “But” he added, “if I could help get us out of there by seven… hypothetically… what’s in it for me?”
She tilted her head, amused. “You won’t be able to. But… hypothetically?”
“I’m listening.”
“I’ll make you my famous brown butter bourbon peach cobbler,” she said casually. He blinked. “You cook?” She grinned. “I don’t wanna toot my own horn… but toot.” His mouth curved.
“But that cobbler?” she added. “That’s my ministry.”
“Done deal,” he said. She squinted at him. “I didn’t say I agreed to let you help.”
“I didn’t say I needed your permission.”
“Well… you do need the address,” she teased. “Well, you got me there.”
That made her laugh again. Louder this time. Warmer. The rain softened as the first bell rang. She looked at him for a long second. “You not what I expected.”
“Yeah?” he asked. “What were you expecting?” She smirked.
“A hipster motherfucker with a clipboard and a superiority complex.” Najee laughed. “Damn. What a glow-up.” She shook her head, that small smile lingering. “Seriously… thank you, Najee,” she said quietly. He paused at that. Hearing his preferred name from her for the first time.
“For what?”
“For not meeting me where I started.”
That quieted him. Then they heard it, sneakers slapping against wet pavement.
“Fat Daddy! Stop running, it’s wet out here!” Najee turned just as Maximus came barreling toward them, Syxe a few feet behind, very pregnant, umbrella in hand. “Mommy! Mommy!” he called.
“Auntie Syxe said I can spend the night with Micah and Imani!” Jackie looked at Syxe, who met her with a soft, knowing look. “Kormia called me,” Syxe said gently. Jackie swallowed, eyes shifting away. Najee stepped back, giving them space. “It was good talking to you, Ms. Brown,” he said.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Maybe,” she said, a faint smile returning. He nodded and turned toward the building. “Najee, your umbrella!” she called. “It’s yours,” he said without turning back.He told himself to leave it alone, leave the session in the session.But the truth was simple. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Jackie Brown since the moment she walked into his office two weeks ago.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
KORMIA BROWN
Wednesdays were supposed to be her money days.