Color Blind (BWWM Single Parent Romance Novel)

By: Vivian Ward





“You see Mr. Handsome out there?” I pointed to the table he was now slowly walking away from. “He was trying to demand my number so he could take me out this weekend. I told him I don’t give my number out, but he got all cocky and arrogant. I think he was even trying to bribe me with a $50 tip!” I explained.



“Are you for real?” Rachel asked, checking out his ass as he walked away. “Girl, you’re crazy! That man’s got to have some money! Look at his suit and God, look at that body! You know he works out,” she laughed.



“Well, I don’t care how much he works out or how much money he has. Some men need to learn respect. Just because he’s got money doesn’t mean he can walk up in here and demand phone numbers.”



“What? Why not?” Sherry challenged.



“Because you can’t.”



“Girl, if some rich dude was asking me for my number, I’d give it to him. Why don’t you go out to the parking lot and give it to him before he leaves?” Sherry asked.



“I’m busy,” I announced.



“Doing what?” Rachel contested.



“Working and taking care of Nevaeh. I don’t need no man in my life, especially a white one. My momma would skin my ass if I ever brought him home.” I paused for a minute. “Speaking of Neveah, I need to make her a doctor appointment real quick. I’ll go make it now since I have no tables at the moment. Will you keep an eye out for me?” I asked my friend.



Rachel nodded that she would. I dashed into the manager’s office to use the phone. As it rang, I wondered how I would even explain these symptoms. What would I say? My daughter has swollen knees and a fever that’s been coming and going for the last few days? Those hardly seemed like reasons to call, but being my child, it was every reason.



“Dr. Herber’s office, Janice speaking. How may I help you?” his assistant answered the phone.



“Hi Janice, this is Kimberly Harris. I was wondering if the doctor could examine my daughter Nevaeh this week. She’s been complaining that her knees hurt, and she’s been running a low-grade fever the last few days.”



“Okay, um, let me check the schedule to see if I can fit her in. Do you have any idea why they might be swollen?” Janice asked as she tried to shift around the appointments to make room for us.



“No, I thought maybe she fell, but she keeps complaining about them. The real reason I wanted to bring her in is because of the fever; that concerns me.”



“Well, sometimes children can catch a bug or a virus and run a low-grade fever as their body fights the infection. You guys are welcome to come in on Thursday at 4:30 in the afternoon. Does that work for you?”



“Thursday?” I asked as I looked up at the schedule hanging on the wall. “Yes, that’ll be perfect. I might be a few minutes late getting her there because I don’t get off until four. Is that okay?”



“Sure thing, that’s no problem at all.”



I hung up the phone, relieved that they worked her in within the next couple of days. It was Tuesday, and I hoped that Nevaeh would feel better before Thursday afternoon so the appointment wouldn’t be necessary. I hated to rush around after work, but if it meant helping my sick daughter, I’d do it in a heartbeat. As I walked away from Kevin’s office, I saw that Rachel was taking a drink order from a two-top table. I met her in the kitchen.



“So what’d they say?” her co-worker asked as she made the customer’s beverages.



“They said they would squeeze her in Thursday at 4:30. I don’t get off until 30 minutes before her appointment, but we work together. Would you mind if I left a few minutes early?”



“No, girl. I wouldn’t care. You make sure she gets better.” She faced me and handed me the drinks, “Give the husband this diet soda and his wife asked for water.”



“Oh, thanks,” I said, taking the glasses from her before heading out to serve my last table of the night.



I cashed out and counted my money when I was off work. This was an unusually slow summer; I only made $32 in tips. Suddenly, I began wishing I would’ve taken that $50 tip from the sexy guy who’d tried getting my number. With a crawling start to the season, it looked like bills would be tight. I couldn’t afford for my daughter to be sick. My credit cards were almost full, but I could squeeze a small office visit on my Visa card. Although I hated my dead-end job, I continued to serve tables at the restaurant because it was close to home and was able to work the hours I needed for Nevaeh’s sake. A full-time day job was hard to find. Nevaeh was going into the third grade when the school year started up in the fall so it was important to me that someone greeted her as she got off the bus.

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