"Christian, baby, pray over your food before you eat." I said sternly.

"Okay," He closed his eyes, bowing his head. "Thank you Jesus for making mommy cook my favorite food. Jesus, I luh you and mommy do too. In Jesus name, amen."

I giggle, proud of my little man. "Amen. Now eat, Peter's on his way."

He gasped, stuffing food in his mouth. "Okay, mommy."

I got him a fresh pair of clothes to wear, knowing he'll ruin that one he has on in a matter of seconds. I love my son, but he is the sloppiest eater I have ever seen. I broke my gaze and sat his clothes on the couch. I sat down relaxing my hurting feet, before the doorbell rang. I smiled, knowing it's Peter.

No, Peter and I are not seeing each other. I like him a lot, but I doubt he'll feel the same way for me. I mean I'm just a regular girl from New Awlins and he's a rich producer from Cali.

Who's really into single mothers nowadays?

"Hello, Ms. Marshall." Peter smirked, handing me a dozen red roses.

"Peter, stop." I giggled. "I told you not to say my last name. Call me Sarah, please."

Truth is, I still hate my last name. Only because I was named after my parents and I want no dealing with them, let alone their name.

"Okay, I mean you won't be a Marshall for long anyways. Mrs. Jones sounds a bit better." He said, kissing my cheek. "Where's my big man at?"

"Eating spaghetti in the kitchen. Help yourself to a plate if you'd like."

"Nah, I have a new artist coming through in a hour."

"What's her name, so I can write it down." I said.

I automatically know it's a woman because that's all he signs. Women. It's annoying but who am I to question?

"Uh, August Alsina."

"That's a different name for a girl. I've heard of May, April, June, and sometimes January, but August?" I laughed slightly.

"Babe, it's a man."

I looked up. "Oh. I knew that. See, I was just making sure you knew."

"Okay." He walked away into the kitchen.

It's funny, I thought I heard him call me babe.

Oh my gosh, he did.

My eyes widen, He called me babe! "Wait, what did you call me? Peter, you just called me babe."

I jogged into the kitchen, finding Peter and Christian chatting among themselves.

"My mommy told me I don't have a daddy. She said God is my only Father." I hear Christian say.

"It's okay man, I don't have a dad either. He left my mom and I when I was your age." Peter replied and I sighed.

"Why?" He asked innocently.

"My daddy didn't like my momma like he should have. My daddy did a very bad thing and I never saw him again." Peter said, shrugging.

I remember briefly Peter telling me him father was a drug addict. How sad he was when he told me. But, a good outcome was that his mother gained a few million dollars by owning her own design company.

I meet her once and I really look up to her. After all she's been through with Peter's dad, she still managed to forgive him and continued to pursue her dreams so her and Peter could live a better life. I love her so much.

"Do you love your daddy?"

"Yeah, buddy, I do, but I don't wanna see him. He really hurt my momma and I."

"I'm sorry," Christian dropped his head down, but perked it back up when an idea came to mind. "Can you be my daddy?"

My eyes bucked as I choke on my spit causing the attention to be on me. I feel Peter pat my back and I calmed down.

"Sorry." I said.

"Were you eavesdropping on grown folks business?" Peter asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah mommy! Were you?" Christian yelled, giggling.

I laughed, pushing Peter out the way. "I mean, not intentionally."

"Bad girl." Peter grabbed my hand, before spanking my thigh.

I scream, "Peter!"

Christian ran out his chair, to comfort me. "Its okay mommy. I pray for you." He says a small prayer, making Peter look at me.

"I don't think I've ever met a mother and son as strong as you guys. He's five and he's been quoting Scriptures since I've known y'all."

"We're just an average, little Christian family." I shrugged, not wanting the attention.

We're only here because I didn't allow my past to dictate us.

"That's me!" Christian yelled.

Peter and I laughed, before he had to head out to meet his new artist.

Whatever.

"Christian, nap time." I said, wiping down his mess.

"Okay." He said. As I go to close the door, I'm called back by my angel's sweet voice. "Mommy."

"Yes."

"Can Peter be my daddy? I want two daddies."

I sigh. "Baby, I don't know. Why do you want two daddies?"

"Spongebob got two daddies. God and the cookie man." He said sadly.

"That means mommy and Peter would have to get married."

"Get married!" He said.

I laughed. "Nap time, baby. I'll wake you up when it's time to go."

I walked out of his room and into the living room. I grabbed the house phone and called Peter.

"Hello, my queen." He answered.

"Hey, um, what time am I suppose to meet up with Mila J to discuss the promotion of her next tour?"

"At 5:30, in building number 8. She's very big in the music industry. You know what best for this company. Work hard to get the promotion all over TV and on social media. I need you to let her know that I'm going to have one of my other artist to open up for her. I don't know who yet, but tell her we'll find out by this week. She's almost as big as Rihanna and Beyonce. She is a huge attraction to the JnR Productions. We need artists like her."

"Yes, sir. Anything else for me today?" I asked.

"Yes, um, meet me in my office at 7 o'clock. Dress nice. You and Christian. I have a surprise for you two."

"Peter, you know I cannot accept anything from you. You're already paying for this whole apartment. I--"

He cuts me off. "I gotta go, bye, love."

Click

Well then.

I take another shower. I have two and a half more hours to met up with Mila J. I want to look decent in front of these people. A decent look and a beautiful smile is more money added to the company.

" See, I gotta be outta my head

To deal with ya

And I gotta be outta my head

To be still with ya

See, I love you but I don't like that

I leave, but then I come right back to you

So what is the point?

I might as well sit here and roll me a joint

Or pour me a drink,

So I can wasted and wont have to think no more

Get high as a plane 'cause sober we drive each other insane

And we know if we don't

We just start fighting again

So either we smoke, or we drink or we break up

Either we smoke, or we drink or we break up

'Cause the only time we don't fight

Is when we drinking or high, oh why

Either we smoke, or we drink or we break up

I've gotta be outta my head

To deal with ya

And I've gotta be outta my head

To be still with you" Mila sang into the mic. It was her new single Smoke, Drink, Break Up.

I'm not use to listening to hip hop or R and B for that matter, but it's a nice song, I guess. Could be better.

"That's an amazing song, Ms. Mila. Mr. Jones sent me here to talk about the promotion of your next tour." I said, glancing over at her.

"Ahh, yes... See, I was hoping that he'd be here instead of you, but whatever. What do you have for me?" She said, sitting down.

"First, Mr. Jones thought it would be nice for another artist to open up for you. He hasn't figured out who'll open up for you yet, but he said you'll find out by the end of the week." I said professionally.

"Hold on! No, fuck no. This is my tour not anyone else. Why would I have someone open for me? Why? So they can steal my show and push me to the back? No, I want Peter here right fucking now!" She said harshly.

"Ms. J, Mr. Jones will be here soon. Can you please cooperate with me for the sake of Peter?"

She scoffed, "That's Mr. Jones, bitch,"

"Excuse me, I will not have you disrespect me, especially when my son is present in the building!" I said getting a bit frustrated.

How dare she? I am no b-word!

"Fuck you, bitch," She yelled. "Fuck you and your damn son. Get Peter here now!"

"And who are you talking to, boo?" I could feel that NOLA attitude slowly slipping up outta me.

"Fuck you gon' do?" She said, as people puled her back

I take 10 deep breaths before just walking out the door.

Just let it go Sarah. She ain't worth it. You good, boo. Go check on yo baby. These thin walls, I'm almost positive he heard her yelling.

I walk in the hallway, and saw Ms. Jackie comforting Christian. Once he saw me, he ran in my arms. "Mommy, s-she was yelling a-and she said bad word." He hiccupped.

My baby is just so sensitive. I pray to God he grows out of it.

"I know and guess what Peter will be here to calm her down. Stop crying, mommy's right here. She won't let nothing happen to you." I cooed.

I called over Jackie. "Yeah?"

"Watch Christian. I need to handle business in the studio. Put something on just in case she wants to yell again. He like paw patrol, spongebob, or ninja turtles." I said.

"Okay girl. Come on Christian, I can put on some paw patrol for you." She said, pulling Christian off to the break room.

I walk back into the room, to see Mila on the phone.

"This is stupid, Peter! Why do I need someone to open for me, huh? Then you send this bitch in to--... Oh, now you sticking up for her? You are a pathetic little boy. What? She sucking you dry, huh?" She turns around to see me with my arms folded.

I smile, not in a sadistic or sarcastic way. I just don't care what people say about me. People wouldn't even be living in my shoes and still be as sane and strong as I am.

"Mr. Jones wants to talk to you." She hands me her iPhone and I put it against my ear.

"Hello." I say, not taking my eyes off Mila.

"Yes, uh, babe, I am so sorry for her actions. She's just having a bad day. I just finished meeting with Alsina and I should be there in a little over 5 minutes. Where's my little man at? Was he in the room?"

"He's with Jackie, and no he wasn't in here, but he still heard her. He's fine though, but she did frighten him a little." I said.

"Okay. I'm turning in right now. See you when I get there, bye." He hung up and I handed Mila's phone back to her.

"Bye, bitch, why are you still in here?" She rolled her eyes.

"You know what, I'm sorry, but, I would like respect from you. I'm not a b-word. As a music artist, you are suppose to be conduct yourself in a manner of respect. You are suppose to respect those who are trying to take you to the next level and higher your career." I said. I'm not angry or anything, I just don't like when people who grew up the same way I did disrespect me like I'm a piece of trash. That's unacceptable, period.

"Whatever."

I walked out the studio, not wanting to be the environment of a disrespectful person. I don't want someone's spirit to jump off on me.

"Baby," I turn around to see Peter. "Where's she?" He asked referring to Mila.

"Studio. Look, my session with her is done. I told her about the promotion of her tour and she disrespected me. My son and I are going home. And I'm not your baby. Bye." I walked away from him, going into the break room to get my son and go home.

I'm not mad at Peter, I'm just honestly tired. I think a nice time with my son will cure this.

Call me crazy, the best medicine for a stressful day is hearing my son's beautiful, angelic voice and obviously prayer.