Something Worth Fighting For

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An Excerpt From: SOMETHING WORTH FIGHTING FOR

Copyright © LENA MATTHEWS, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One

"I need help."

Tisha Nichols blinked her eyes several times, trying to determine if she was still asleep or if the little girl in front of her, brandishing a hairbrush as if it were a weapon, was real. Stunned, Tisha ran her hand through her sleep-warped hair, not sure what to make of the brown-skinned cherub. She couldn´t be more than twelve. The girl was as thin as a reed with skin the color of milk chocolate and ebony hair that stood as if in salute on top of her head. Tisha didn´t have a clue who she was or what she wanted, and it was too damn early to care.

If the blaring red lights on her alarm clock were right, it had been seven twenty when the first ring from her doorbell penetrated her consciousness and pulled her out of her slumber to answer the door.

Seven twenty, for Christ´s sake. Anyone who knew Tisha knew better than to talk to her before nine, especially on a Sunday or Monday, her designated days off. She´d hung up on her momma for less.

The kid was cute and all, but she was going to have to die.

"Well?"

Taken back by the snotty tone, Tisha raised a brow in irritation. "Well, what?"

"Can you help me?" the little girl repeated, speaking slowly, as if Tisha were dim.

"With what?"

Sighing, the girl waved the brush about, as if the answer was obvious. "My hair of course."

"Of course..." Tisha didn´t work out of her home, and she definitely didn´t work before ten a.m. "Look, I think you might be mistaken."

"You do your own hair, right?"

"Yes." And for the last eight years, a good portion of the women who came through the doors of Q´s Salon, not that Tisha felt the need to give her credentials to a sleep-robbing brat.

"Today is picture day and if I can´t get someone to do it, then Uncle J is going to try, and lady, his efforts aren´t pretty."

"Look, kid-"

"Cami, okay, not kid. I´m almost ten."

Almost ten, why didn´t she say so. She was practically grown. Tisha would have rolled her eyes if she weren´t so tired. "Not to be rude or anything, but it´s early."

"It´s seven thirty."

"My point exactly."

"This is an emergency." Cami´s eyes filled with tears, cracking the tough façade she´d been fronting. "I don´t want to look bad on picture day. Uncle J tries. Really, really hard, but he doesn´t have a clue how to do hair. I can manage ponies fine, but today I want to look pretty. As far as I can tell, you and Mrs. Laine are the only other black people on the block. I was going to ask Mrs. Laine, but her hair looks worse than mine half the time and yours always looks really nice."

Always looked nice? Tisha wasn´t sure she´d ever seen her before. "You live around here?"

Cami pointed across the street. "Over there. We moved in a couple of months ago."

Squinting, Tisha looked to where Cami gestured, wondering whom she belonged to. As Cami said, the Laines and she were the only black people on the block. So who did...wait a minute. There was a new guy across the street, but he couldn´t possibly be this kid´s uncle.

He was white.

Or at least Tisha thought he was. He could have been very, very light-skinned. She hadn´t exactly made it over to their house to do the neighborly thing yet.

"You mean the..." Clearing her throat, Tisha tried to think of a delicate way of phrasing her question. "Do you live in the blue house?"

"Yes, Uncle J and I moved in two months ago."

"Oh." That explained nothing. Of course, Tisha didn´t require an explanation. This was a colorful world they lived in. Black people came in many different shades, and for all she knew, this little girl could be mixed. Either way, it wasn´t her business, or it hadn´t been until she´d been woken up. "Did your uncle send you over here to ask me to do your hair?"

"No, he was in the shower when I left."

Not good. "He doesn´t know where you are?"

"I left a note. Sheesh, I´m not a child."

Of course she wasn´t. "Sorry."

"So, can you fix my hair? Pleeease."

Tisha knew even if she slammed the door in the girl´s face right this second and ran faster than time itself, she wouldn´t be able to go back to sleep. Besides, there was something about the smart aleck she liked.

Furthermore, the girl´s hair was a hot mess and there was no way in hell Tisha was going to have the tangled halo on her conscience. "Okay, here´s the deal. I´ll open my garage door, and we can work in there, in case your uncle steps out to look for you, but you´ll owe me."

"Owe you, what?" Cami narrowed her eyes as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"We´ll work that out later." Tisha extended her hand. "Do we have a deal?"

After a second of hesitation, Cami gripped Tisha´s hand in hers and gave a fierce shake. "Yes, ma´am."

"Anyone who can survive waking me up this early in the morning without me maiming or killing them has earned the right to call me Tisha."