Free SELFLESS by Lexie Ray Page B

about this. It was too fresh. I didn’t think I could ever talk about it.
    “In a way,” I said finally. It wasn’t all the way true, but I didn’t know how else to explain it. I didn’t want to get into the fact that I would be a disappointment to my absent parents, that I missed my obnoxious female contingency, that I wanted to go back to the man who tried to strangle me.
    That I thought this was all a big mistake.
    “I understand,” Mama said. “We’ll start you off tomorrow night then. You’ll shadow Cocoa to learn the ropes—of the downstairs business, not the upstairs business.”
    “Okay,” I said, staring at my feet.
    “Mama, Pumpkin is gonna need a few things,” Cocoa said. “She came to us with a few clothes, but she’ll need to go shopping.”
    Mama clapped her hands, her eyes gleaming. “Sugar, we’re gonna get you all dolled up,” she said. “Make sure everyone at this establishment knows what a fine ass you have. Cocoa, honey, I don’t wanna knock you off your pedestal, but I think Pumpkin can give you a run for your money.”
    “Aw, Mama,” Cocoa said, laughing. “You’re gonna start a roommate rivalry.”
    “Customers won’t know what hit ’em,” Mama said, winking at me. I blushed in return. This kind of banter made me miss the female contingency especially.
    “Well, girls, I’ve got some more things to do before I turn in,” Mama said, taking out a flask and pouring herself a nip in a small glass on the desk. My mouth watered stupidly. I needed to forget about that drink. It wasn’t going to happen.
    “We’ll get outta your hair, Mama,” Cocoa said.
    We left her to her box of money and closed the door behind us.
    “Come on,” Cocoa said, hooking her arm through mine in an easy, intimate gesture that made me jump a little bit. “You’re going to get something to eat whether you like it or not. You just look like you need something.”
    I needed lots of things, but nothing that I believed this place could give me.
    “What do you like to eat?” Cocoa asked as she ripped open the door to the refrigerator again in the kitchen. “I make a mean breakfast. And mostly simple stuff. I could make tacos! We have ground beef.”
    She announced menu possibilities as she moved things around in the refrigerator, glancing at me every so often over her shoulder as she moved things around. Cocoa was bending over backwards to try to make me feel at home here. I gave myself a little push outside my comfort zone to try to meet her halfway.
    “Tacos?” I asked. “I’m Puerto Rican, not Mexican, and I bet you’ve never had a real taco before.”
    Cocoa straightened slowly from her exploration of the lower shelves of the refrigerator and turned around, placing her hands on her hips as she did so. She was grinning, and I had to smile back.
    “Well, hello, Pumpkin,” Cocoa laughed. “It’s good to see you out of your shell.”
    I took a deep breath. If I wanted anything here, I was going to have to ask. That was clear to me. I needed to start standing up for myself. I didn’t have the female contingency to protect me anymore.
    “Tell you what,” I said, eyeing the inside of the refrigerator before taking stock of all of the pots and pans and utensils in the kitchen. “If you can rustle up some beer, I will make you real tacos. I have to warn you, though—once you’ve had Puerto Rican tacos, you’ll never go back to those sad, sad substandard things you used to call tacos.”
    “Look at this sass,” Cocoa said appraisingly. “You get those fancy tacos started. I’ll be back.”
    I pulled a huge pot from beneath the countertop and started heating oil in it. It needed to be nice and hot for what I had planned. Then, I started gathering the rest of my ingredients—the ground beef, an array of spices from a rack, and others. I wasn’t expecting to find any masa in the kitchen. That would’ve been a miracle. But I could make do with cornmeal.
    Within a few minutes, I had a