Read Online Baby Momma 2 by Ni’chelle Genovese - Free Book Online Page B

state-of–the-art bullshit, teeny as hell and hidden around the outside of the house. We had one at the front door, one overlooking the garage, and I was pretty sure there was another that looked out over the back toward the pool.
    â€œSo why don’t you just use the li’l touchscreen pad things that’s all over the house?”
    We had one in every damn room. They looked like mini TVs on the wall beside the light switches and they controlled damn near everything. You could dim the lights, turn the music on or off in each room, and, duh, look outside using the cameras.
    â€œBecause, Ris, those cameras are real time, we need to access shit that’s already passed. So we need to go back a few hours. After a week the files are archived so we can’t access them.” She sounded irritated. There was no reason for her to talk to me in such a know-it-all tone.
    â€œWell damn you ain’t gotta snap at my ass. I was jus’ askin’.” Shit, I’ll keep my suggestions to myself. She sure did know a lot about all of this, and my ass just felt more and more alienated as she put in her password and pulled up her site, more shit I was oblivious to. It was a wonder she didn’t spy on me when I was home with the kids.
    She scrolled her finger along the screen and the footage zoomed forward through the day, and I watched us leave in the limo, and a few minutes later a white flower delivery van pulled up, and we watched as a figure got out and walked up to the house with what had to be the largest bouquet of lilies in history. The sun was setting and it was shadowy, so we honestly couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. Damn, why hadn’t Darla turned on the front light? We might have been able to see something if she had. He or she had on a huge gardening hat and the lilies completely blocked the side view of their face so watching the video any further was pointless. Michelle groaned and touched stop on the screen.
    â€œWhat? It’s just a damn florist. Probably from one of your fuckin’ side hoes.” Jealousy seared through me in an instant, flashed with a mixture of anger and pain. It wasn’t anyone sendin’ me flowers, that was for damn sure. Climbing off her lap I started to make my way upstairs, intent on thinking my way out of this no-win situation with her lying ass. The thought of being close to her and thinking that once again Rasheed or Lania or whoever the fuck else was touching her or sharing her with me was tearing me up inside.
    â€œLarissa. It doesn’t bother you that this florist had on a sun hat and was trying to deliver flowers damn near in the middle of the night? Every house out here has security cameras somewhere. You don’t think whoever it was wasn’t trying to hide their face on purpose?”
    Her words fell on deaf ears. She was pleading her case, trying to cover up her lover’s tracks because the flowers probably should’ve gone to her fuckin’ office and not to our damn house.
    â€œAnd they just happened to know you love lilies. Most deliveries for most normal companies do stop at nine, Michelle.” I couldn’t hide the smirk on my face. Oooh my ass was heated. I stormed out to the garage, intent on rolling me a fat one and putting some clouds up in the air because this bitch done straight chased away all of the buzz I had. She had some nerve having niggas sending flowers and shit up here, and then on top of that Lania’s ass trying to get at her with me right there just feet away.
    I stomped into the garage, the humidity immediately making me break out into a sweat, pissing me off even further. I looked at the layer of dust gathering on my silver Jag and my candy-red Mercedes coupe, both gifts from Michelle. I needed my own got-damn car that I paid for. Not something that was given to me like I was a spoiled brat or someone’s child who needed an allowance and permission to do things. At one