Color Blind (BWWM Single Parent Romance Novel)

By: Vivian Ward

Rachel peeked her head out of the kitchen and immediately spied the hunky rich guy sitting in my section. “I think you should give him your number. If a man like that came demanding my number, he wouldn’t have to ask twice. He’s fucking hot! And girl, you know he’s got some money. Look at his clothes and his shoes.”

“I better get back to my tables,” I said pushing through the swinging doors of the kitchen.

As I waited on my other tables, I noticed that he never took his eyes off of me. Maybe Rachel was right; maybe I should give him my number. Even though my family hated white people, I didn’t hold the same grudge. I was smart enough to know that not all cops are monsters, and not all white people are bad.

“Do you need a refill?” I asked as I made my way past his table.

“Yes, please,” he grabbed my wrist. “Tell me why won’t you give me your number?”

“Why do you want my number? How do you know I’m not already taken?”

“I don’t see a ring on your finger,” he said eyeballing my hand.

I paused as I tried to find the right words. “How do I know you’re not some kind of psycho? I don’t know you from that guy over there,” I pointed to a man with a scraggly beard and dirty shirt.

“One date. That’s all I’m asking for. After we go out, you can decide whether or not you want to talk to me again, but you will. I can promise you that,” he winked at me.

“I’ll be back with that drink,” I said, breaking free from his grip.

As I made his drink, I waited for Rachel to come back into the kitchen. When she did, I told her what Dale had said.

“I’m tellin’ you, girl, you better go out with that man. Hell, even if he is a psycho, he’s damn good looking. One date won’t kill ya. Go give him your number.”

Following the advice of my friend, I walked back out to Dale’s table and took out my order pad. “Here, I’m going to give you my number, but all you’re getting is one date.”

He took the piece of paper out of my hand and pulled out his cell phone.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m calling you to make sure this is really your number before I leave.”

The audacity he had pissed me off. “Who in the hell do you think you are? You’re not God’s gift to women, I can tell you that right now.”

“Oh? I think I am,” he flashed his movie star teeth at me. My voicemail picked up. “And there you are, Kimberly. I’ll call you later.” He slipped me a hundred-dollar tip as he walked away from the table.

Chapter Two

“What did the doctor say?” Lorraine asked.

“Well, he noted Nevaeh might have a bug, which would explain her fever. He also seems to think the way she plays on the floor all the time are causing her knees to swell and hurt,” I explained.

“So what’d he say to do?”

“Just to let the bug run its course, and he suggested having her play while sitting on her bed or at the kitchen table. He thinks that will help her back and knee pain and the swelling should subside.”

“That’s good. Are you bringing her over tomorrow when you go to work?” Lorraine questioned.

“Yeah, we’ll be there at the usual time. See you in the morning,” I had said before we hung up the phone.


“What Nevaeh?”

“I was wondering if you would read me a story tonight after I put my jammies on.”

“Sure baby, I’ll do that. Why don’t you brush your teeth and hop into bed? I need to give you some ibuprofen first, though, okay?”

My hazel-eyed sweetheart nodded her head, “Momma, is it all right if I wear my princess nightgown?”

“Yes, that’s fine. Why don’t you go get your pajamas on while I pour your medicine and then we’ll read you a story?”

“Yep! I’ll race you!” My daughter yelled, running to her bedroom.

I headed into the kitchen and measured out Nevaeh’s ibuprofen before making her a cup of water. She was already in her PJ’s, waiting for me under her blanket and had her favorite book picked out— “Cinderella.” After I had given her the medicine, I snuggled beside her and began to read. As we were wrapping up the story, my little girl had a question for me.

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