Taming Mr. Black

NAOMI

"Naomi!" The sound of my name makes me jolt up from my bed at once. I rub my eyes with the heel of my palms and stare at the person next to my open door. My younger sister, Rachel, stands next to my door with a toothbrush in her hand, as she smiles at me.

"Good morning. Mama said I should tell you that you will be late for work if you don’t get up." Rachel says and disappears down the hallway, leaving my door open.

I groan and get out of bed. I quickly take my bath, get dressed in my previous day's clothes, and head to the living room. The house looks lively and smells beautiful.

"Pancakes," I say as I walk toward the kitchen.

Mom's making pancakes as I predicted.

"Good morning, Mama," I say, and kiss my mother on the cheeks.

"Good morning, baby. How did you sleep?" Mom asks and scoops pancakes on a plate and pushes it to the edge of the counter for me to take. I give her a grateful nod and brew coffee for myself.

"Good," I say while adding sugar and cream to my coffee.

"Mmm…"

"Is this about that boyfriend of yours? Is that why you spent the night, Naomi?" Mom asks in Spanish.

I groan. Every time she speaks our language to me, I feel like a child. She always does this on purpose.

"Mama." I blow air into my coffee and take a sip. I sit down to start eating.

"I thought you two were, like, done," Rachel says and pokes her head into the kitchen through the open kitchen door. I glare at her.

"Out. The seniors are talking." Mom says in English. Rachel rolls her eyes and disappears behind the wall.

Mom sighs and turns to look at me. I avoid her gaze. I can't do this with her right now. I don't want to talk about my bad relationship with George. Period.

"Sweetheart," Mom says in Spanish.

I look up, trying to eat up my pancakes and get the hell out of here. I'm nearly late for work and my mother knows that.

"Are you okay?" She continues in Spanish.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say and stand up, carrying my plates with me to the sink.

"Okay, I believe you." She continues to speak in Spanish.

I ignore her and drop my plates in the sink. I turn on the tap to wash my hands.

"Is he still bothering you? I mean, after you told him you were done?" Mom asks in Spanish.

" Yup," I mutter under my breath. George is the last person I want to talk about right now and she knows that.

"What did you even see in him? I'd never liked him. He's just so privileged with daddy and mommy issues. He's too full of himself, and God, he's so arrogant. I mean, not standing up for you when his mother was berating you, that was so shameless of him. And his parents, who do they think they're? The fact that they're rich doesn't mean they'll treat people like gum. Chew them up and throw them away when they please. God, they are just out of control. These privileged people…" Mom goes on and on with Spanish.

"Mom, It's okay. George and I are over. We're not getting back together. I didn't know it would turn out like this. I'm done with him. For good. And I don't care about his parents berating me. I'm a successful woman and a graduate with a marketing degree. The fact that I don't have a good job, yet, doesn't make me useless." I say and sigh, as I turn off the tap.

This is why I don't want to talk about George or his family. They just give me a headache that tends to stay for too long.

"I'm happy you're finally moving on and becoming a real woman. I know I trained you to be better." Mom says and leans against the counter as she watches me. I don't say a word but drink my coffee in peace and quiet.

"So, when are you planning to leave that job? It's bringing you anything, but good. You don't live in a good apartment, Naomi. You have a roommate, and yet, you feel so content with that bartending job." Mom says in Spanish.

"Mom, I'm not content. I just don't have a choice. Plus, you taught me how to work hard and earn money the right way." I say and drop my cup of coffee on the counter.

"That job of yours, bartending, is not even that good of a job. I want you to do something else. You have a marketing degree, start job hunting again." She still speaks in Spanish.

"I'm not a bartender, mama, I'm a server. There's a difference between a bartender and a server."

"They both work in a club or bar." Mom points out in English.

"Mom, you need to cut me some slacks. There are no jobs in the city. I have tried before, and trust me, I'm still trying." I grab my coat and wear it.

"I thought you hated your boss." Mom says again. I groan and roll my eyes.

"I didn't say that. I remember I only said he's an arrogant, privileged asshole."

"He's never said a word to you and you hate him. Are you sure that's hate? I mean, you always talk about him every chance you get and he's never for once stared at you. I don't even think he knows you exist." Rachel says as she walks into the kitchen.

"Shut up, Rach." I playfully glare at her.

"I'm gonna go now." I walk towards my mom and hug her.

"You know I want the best for you, right?" Mom asks me in English. I smile and nod.

"I know." I pull away from the hug and turn to leave.

"Don't forget your nephew's birthday is tonight. You can't be late." Mom says.

"Yeah, sure. You know I won't miss Charlie's birthday for anything in the world. Where the hell is he?" I grab an apple and walk toward the living room.

"He's still sleeping. I've tried to wake him up." Rachel says behind me.

"Charlie! You awake? Oh my God, Charlie, Bruno is about to eat your Spiderman toy!" I lie and pat my family's dog, Bruno, on his head. He whines and tilts his head to the side.

"I'm awake!" I hear Charlie's voice and his small feet racing down the stairs. I laugh and head out of my family's house.

I breathe in the warm morning air as I look around for a cab. I see one and enter inside and I shut the door. I give my address to the driver and he starts to drive. I shut my eyes and take in a deep breath. My phone rings and I pull it out of my coat pocket. Bianca, my roommate and close friend, is calling me. I pick up and put the phone to my ear.

"Hey, Bianca."

"Hey, Naomi. How are you? Are you off to work?"

"Yeah, I'm good. And, I'm off to work. What's up with you? Leaving for work too?" I ask.

"Something like that."