Chapter 10
One month later
“Keep me updated,”I said into the phone.
“You know I will,” Tasha reassured with a sigh. “Are you still coming over tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” I said before shifting my car into park. “Of course. I’ll be there around ten. How’s ma?”
Samuel was transitioning and had been for weeks. However, the last few days had been the roughest. On all of us. Well, not all of us. Jah’s feelings toward it hadn’t changed and they wouldn’t. Since the sit down with Jah, the way I felt about everything had indeed shifted. To be honest, the only person I gave a fuck about in this whole process was my ma. She was the one who would hurt the most. If there was ever a reason I would want him to come around it would be for her—not Samuel. But, I refused to revisit a dead conversation with the nigga. The only place that could go was left. But, I’d be lying if I said her asking for him every day didn’t fuck with me. That shit ate at me.
“The same. She’s been in the room all day.”
I brushed my hand over the top of my head and hit the send button. Leaning my head back against the headrest, I sighed. “Aight. Make sure she eats, Tasha.”
“I will,” She paused and took a deep breath. “Listen, fré... Try to have a little fun, alright? And be nice.”
I grunted and shifted my eyes up at the two-story house I was parked in front of. I would be nice. Didn’t have any choice but to be. The fun shit? Nah, I couldn’t imagine that happening.
“Yeah, I hear you,” I responded, brushing my head over my waves. Love you, sé.”
She sighed. “Love you too, fré. Call me when it’s over.”
It was the night of The Black Effect event, and I was picking my date up. Her name was Dion, and I didn’t know shit about her. The only thing I did know was that she was nice looking and knew how to carry herself. The agency Jacqueline found her through was very distinguished. The ‘escorts’ at ‘The Colony’ went through a vigorous screening process. They took etiquette classes and shit like that. That was good enough for me. I skimmed through the profile a little, took a away a few key details, and that was it. As long as she was classy, I was cool. The only purpose she would play for me would be that of an accessory. A nice ass lil’ cufflink. That was it. Nothing more nothing less.
The event started at seven. I was scheduled to pick her up then and pulled up ten minutes early. Baptiste men had a reputation for chivalry and charm. So, despite not wanting to do any of this shit, I played the role. I always played the role, didn’t I? Against my will with a fucking smile. Would rather be Saint Baptiste with her. Would have rather pulled up with her on my arm as my date. She wouldn’t have been an accessory. She would’ve been mine. I would’ve been proud to wear her. She?—
I was tweaking.
Naoki was still in the front of my fuckin’ mind. The last time I saw her was at Jah’s house a little over a month ago. I told her how I felt, she received it how I expected her to receive it and I walked away... with a ton of hope and a little less pride. Fuck it. I said I was wearing my heart on my sleeve from now on, didn’t I? Fuck pride.
There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of her, however, today she’d been on my mind a lot more than usual. All day she was there… lingering. I faced about five blunts trying to chill. But... I couldn’t. Tonight was a reminder of just how far I’d fallen off. I had a limitless amount of money sitting in my bank account. Thriving businesses. Was in good health. But, I fell off. Fell off because I had to go out and get a fuckin’ date. I had nothing against arranged dating. In my opinion it was convenient, and genius. Perfect for niggas like Blaise and Simon. Sad for men like me.
I took a deep breath and got out of the car, deciding I’d spent enough time wallowing. I wouldn’t be the best Baptiste I could be if I sat in this bitch full of regret, now would I? I couldn’t disappoint the family, could I?
I climbed the stairs, knocked on the door, and waited... full of nothing. I didn’t anticipate the smell of her perfume. Wasn’t excited to see what she would look like in her dress. Didn’t give a fuck about ‘stealing pieces of her’ through wavering eye contact. I just... stood there and waited. Bored out of my muthafuckin mind.
I flicked my wrist to check the time. 6:55PM. A couple of seconds later, she opened the door, and I was greeted with a big smile.
“Good evening,” I greeted with my hand extended. “Saint Baptiste.”
She looked up at me with a smile. She was straight. Shit, a nigga was in his feelings a lil’ bit. I couldn’t front. Shorty was more than straight; she was beautiful with deep dark chocolate skin and slanted brown eyes that all but closed when her full pouty lips curled up into a smile. If I had a preference outside of anybody other than Naoki, Dion would have worked. She would have worked very well.
“Good evening, Mr. Baptiste,” She placed her dainty hand in mine, and I shook it. “Dior.”
I nodded and led her to my car.
She was beautiful. However, she wasn’t her. Dion didn’t have that walk. She smelled nice. Too fruity. Childish almost. She didn’t have a scent that would be cemented into my memory at the end of the night. I didn’t get lost in her eyes. Didn’t want to stay there to steal bits and pieces of her. There was no mystery. She didn’t have feeble walls to maneuver around. She was beautiful. But beautiful, only.
I really, truly didn’t want to compare. However, that’s what I did. That’s all I’d done for thirty-six days. I compared. I waited, patiently, and compared. When the silence at home was too loud, when I was tired of sitting alone in misery, stuck inside of a fantasy I’d never be able to live out again, I posted up at bars, and people watched, compared, and suffered. While the rest of the world carried on without me, I suffered. That wasn’t me. That wasn’t how Saint Baptiste rocked. But shit... that’s who I’d turned into. That’s what she did to me. I didn’t want to think about her. Hated thinking about her ass.
But damn I loved it.
I could sit up all night thinking about her,
Getting lost in the thought of her was my favorite thing to do.
Most nights, when it was time for me to turn in, I didn’t take a detour. Didn’t go to the bar. Damn sure didn’t go to Pandoras. I didn’t care to satisfy ‘my reason’. Fuck the reason. The reason was ‘the reason’ behind my suffering. I didn’t give a fuck about that shit anymore. At the end of the day, you know what I did? Carried my lame ass home, showered, laid in bed with my eyes on the ceiling and escaped. Went to Pandora’s alright. To the night we made love. To the night I caressed and ran my tongue over every inch of her.
“This is a really lovely car,” Dion complimented, pulling me out of my thoughts, just before I opened the passenger door for her.
I nodded. “Thank you.” She smiled and grabbed the back of her long dress, giving me an opportunity to finally take in what she had on. With furrowed brows, I shook my head at the color. “The memo said fawn; that’s caramel.”
She looked down at her dress and her jaw dropped. “If you would like me to, Mr. Baptiste, I’ll go in and?—”
“Nah, it’s okay, sweetheart. My apologies. The color is perfect,” I apologized before reaching down to help her with her dress.
I was tripping over a color. A fuckin’ color? That was the Naoki effect. She did that to me. Colors were her thing. Years ago, she came to me with the dress shirt, I called it burgundy. But she called it maroon. Told me burgundy was lighter. Since then, every time I saw a color, I thought of her. The world didn’t even look the same. She didn’t just change me, she changed the world around me. That’s what separated her from the rest. She was exciting. Her life. Her mind. Her layers. She had those. Multiple layers... meticulously stacked up on top of one another. And after almost four years, there were still several layers I had yet to peel back.
Wondered if I ever would get the chance to.
Once Dion was safely inside, I closed the door and heeded to the driver side. Sighing, I massaged the back of my neck. Shit. I had to get her out of my head. How long was this waiting shit supposed to last?
Forty minutes later I was in a building I didn’t want to be in with people I did not give a fuck about, wearing a smile I had to find. Shit was getting old, low key. The more I had to do it, the more I hated it. Every day, I found myself thinking about the conversation I had with Jackie. Every day I thought about what she said about being dethroned by Emu. And every day, the shit started to sound better. We had been at the top of the business since before I was born. The beginning was easy. Before we went corporate, it was easy. Before I had to step into Jah’s position, it was cool. Couldn’t imagine doing this for another five, ten years. Couldn’t imagine how he did it for so long. Shit was draining. I could handle doing what I did. I could handle mingling with my peoples, walking around Vault shaking hands, smiling and shit was easy. This... doing this shit, although I didn’t do it often, came with too much.
I couldn’t fuck with these niggas.
I was seated with a bunch of real blue collared niggas. We were at a gala for black people. A gala to celebrate black excellence but as I sat at the table listening to these niggas speak, all I heard was code switching. We didn’t need to code switch here. The fuck was wrong with ‘em? I was surrounded by a bunch of black people who weren’t comfortable, not even amongst people that looked like them.
And my date. My date was worst.. All she did was smile. Nod, smile, sip champagne, and dab at the corners of her mouth. Couldn’t hold an entertaining conversation to save her fuckin’ life. She was like a robot, to be real. A beautiful robot, though. I didn’t know if I was just... in a mood. Pissed about my circumstances, or if people really were just that fucking intolerable.
I flicked my wrist to check the time. I was ready to go. Had just walked in and was already, ready to skate. Couldn’t leave just yet though. Hadn’t gotten the award and even after that I wouldn’t be able to leave. Couldn’t grab the shit and go. Had to stay professional.
I dragged my hands down my face with a laugh.
“Right? You agree with me, Saint?”
Asked the weird ass nigga to the left of me.
“Agree with what?” I asked with a smirk.
I hadn’t heard a fuckin’ thing he’d said. Jackie would be disappointed. Jah too. Samuel for sure. I could see the scowl deepening in his face now, with every second I sat there unengaged. With the people... with my date... with everybody. I just sat there, existing. Feeling out of place like a muthafucka. All I wanted to do was burn one. Burn one, stare at the ceiling and escape to that got damn illusion.
He lightly chuckled and looked around the table. “Damnit man, I thought I had someone on my side?—”
“Hell nah you don’t, buddy,” I said with a light grin.
He laughed. “—Obviously!” He joked. Corny ass nigga. “But hey! It’s cool. Not everyone gets it. I was talking about gentrification and...”
And just like that, the minute he mentioned gentrification, whatever the fuck he was talking about faded out. I couldn’t sit through anymore of the bullshit sober. So, I turned to Dion and asked if she wanted another glass of champagne. I needed a drink. Would have gotten up and gone to the bar without asking but... Baptiste men had chivalry, remember?
She smiled and nodded. “Sure, babe. I thought you’d never ask.”
Babe? We didn’t discuss terms of endearment. I stared at her. Just... briefly. With a light squint that I was sure she didn’t notice. The smile never left her lips.
She turned away, grabbed her bag and pushed back against her chair to stand. Asking if she wanted another glass of champagne wasn’t an invitation to walk with me. But... I didn’t say anything. Decided to just go along with the flow. What else was I supposed to do anyway? Shit, we were here, and she was my date, right?
“We appreciate everyone for coming out tonight,” said the host and creator of The Black Effect, Cornell, standing at the podium.
I was behind him. Backstage, waiting for the nigga to finish up so I could get the fuck out of the building. Time moved like molasses all got damn night. It had only been an hour since my trip to the bar. Felt a lot longer though. The night was dragging. I tried to embrace it. But… I couldn’t. Was hit with a reminder text from Tasha and everything. That shit didn’t help. Dion had become a little less intolerable. Turned out to have more personality than I thought. Had to get a couple shots of tequila up in her to bring it out though. Had she become more tolerable? Or had the few shots I tossed back made it easy to sit with her?
I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my slacks and paced, waiting for Cornell to finish up.
“…If you’ve been in business for a while, I’m sure you’ve heard about The Baptiste Family and the contributions they’ve made over the years. Tonight, we’re honoring a pillar of the black business community, Saint Baptiste, independent owner of Vault Nightclub, Taperz Barbershop, The Jooce Bar, and Spinning Wheelz Car Wash.”
The audience erupted in applause, and I stepped out onto the stage to accept my award. Shook hands with Cornell and walked up to the podium. As soon as I looked out into the crowd, my eyes met hers.
Not Dion’s; Naoki’s. What the fuck was she doing here? I was stuck for a moment. She was too. I was caught off guard not only by how beautiful she looked, but by the nigga standing beside her. Was tempted to say fuck the award, jump off the stage and go across the niggas head with it. A couple times. On God. Would have for sure did damage.
But as a Baptiste, at a formal event, with about two hundred sets of eyes on me, what the fuck did I have to do? Be a good ‘ol boy like Pops ‘nem wanted me to be. Couldn’t lose sight of what was important. Couldn’t lose focus again. Couldn’t do shit but be a puppet, smile, and watch the only woman I loved drift further and further away from me.
Scratching the top of my head, I ran my tongue over the corner of my mouth and cleared my throat. “Damn, don’t you look good tonight?” I complimented. Spoke into the crowd but my eyes never left her.
She was beautiful. Absolutely fucking breathtaking. Did she know? I mean, truly. I didn’t think she did. I couldn’t imagine. There was no way in hell she knew. If she could see it, she would then know why I couldn’t let go. She knew what I’d said was for her only, because the minute I said it, that hand went to her neck like I knew it would. That told me all I needed to know. She was mine, still, even with a nigga standing beside her. He was on borrowed time.
Once that was settled, I turned my attention and did what I came to do; pretend. However, it wasn’t all about pretending. The fa?ade was just a front. I did appreciate the acknowledgment. Any time I was given recognition for anything separate from the family as a collective, it meant a little more. Held more weight. That didn’t change just because I didn’t want to be in attendance. Damn sure didn’t change because she was in the crowd with… who was she with again?
Naoki was alone.
Shit, so was I.
I didn’t give a fuck about anything outside of us.
Less than five minutes later,I was joining her in the women’s restroom. I cut the acceptance speech Jackie drafted for me short as fuck. I told a couple jokes, thanked the alliance and got the fuck off the stage. Was greeted at the bottom by ol’ girl I came with but shit… I walked right by her as if I really was alone. Remember? If Naoki was in a room, my attention stayed on her. I couldn’t see past her. She was, and always would be, the focus.
When she noticed me walk up behind her at the sink, she flinched.
“What are you doing in here?” Sighing, she brushed her hand over her forehead. “You need to get out.”
“Have I given you enough?” I asked, ignoring her.
I was aware of what I needed, and it wasn’t to get out.
She turned around to face me. “Have I given you enough—Huh?”
“Time. Have I given you enough time?” I asked, standing directly in front of her. My eyes landed on her lips, and I wanted nothing more than to kiss her. However, I played it cool. Respected her boundaries—as much as I could at least. Putting my eyes back on hers was the safest thing for me to do. Lost in her eyes was one of my favorite places to be any fucking way. Despite how bad she wanted to keep me out.
“Saint, I—you know you cannot be in here,” she whispered, with shifty eyes. Always had shifty eyes. Always hated to be seen. By me. That’s why I knew she didn’t know how beautiful she truly was. She couldn’t possibly know. “You’re not at some party. You’re here on business. You literally just got an award. You can’t be caught in the women’s restroom.”
“I don’t give a fuck about shit outside of this restroom, cheri,” I honestly told her.
“You need to,” She looked up at me with raised brows and my eyes traveled down her slender neck. I waited. Watched as that pulse increased. Pausing, she glanced by me, at the trash can I pinned against the door. “Saint, I need?—“
“I know what you need, Naoki. I know,” I interrupted. “I’ve given you what you needed. Time. Space. A lot of it. Enough, I hope. Please.” Delicately, I grabbed her by the waist. “Tell me I’ve given you enough.”
There wasn’t one grandiose thing about Naoki that made me fall. She didn’t cook me meals, surprise me with shit… didn’t ‘do’ anything to make me love her. All she did was ‘be’. What she gave me wasn’t tangible. It was a feeling. It had always been a feeling. The minute I put my eyes on her at Vault the first night I met them—her and Sienna— I felt it. Ignored it then because how was I to explain to even myself what I felt? For a stranger? Thought I was imagining things. But then I saw more of her. At parties. At the house. And that feeling she gave me, when I looked into her eyes, I wanted more of it. Got it and then fucked around and lost access to it. That was on me.
The past month in a half had been fucking torture. Not because of anything anybody else had done. But because of what I did. I had to live with the person that ruined my life. Self. That shit was unsettling. That shit was uncomfortable. I never had to do that. Never had to stand in the mirror and question myself. Never had to sit with self and truly ask… was it worth it? Trying to hold on to that power?
What power?
Control.
My reason.
At Pandora’s everyone had a why. I didn’t have it anywhere but there. The only thing I did have true control over was women. The way I handled them. Pussy. The way I handled it. But Naoki. Shit. Naoki… She challenged that. Made me fucking crazy. I—I needed control. Didn’t have any over my life per se. Was thrown into a position I wasn’t ready for. The lifestyle—the business, that was chosen for me. Shit, what if I wanted to play basketball? Football? What if a nigga wanted to be a got damn doctor? I didn’t have a chance to decide. I never had a choice. But with women? Oh, hell yeah. Once I realized I could choose that, it was up. When I learned how to intertwine control, sex, and women… it was up.
And then she came along. And I found myself losing it. That control I had finally got a hold of… that power. Inch by inch. Bit by bit, I found myself losing it. That shook a nigga. Made me lash out. Sent me spiraling. I didn’t want to lose control. But, tonight, as I stood before her, I could say with confidence, that I was ready. Ready to give it all up.
I didn’t need control here neither. What she gave me felt a million times better.
Naoki took a deep breath and shook her head. She looked away and I gripped her chin. “Have I given you enough time?”
“I don’t need ‘time’ Saint. I’m trying to… I need?—“
“You need more time,” I pause to clear my throat. I felt her slipping. She was slipping and I was losing her.
“I—“
“Tell me you need more time, Oki.” I paused. “Tell me I’m still too early.”
I was fucked up.
“Saint, look, you know I’m here with someone and?—”
“What the fuck that gotta do with us, Naoki? Hmm?” I coldly interrupted.She drew back with wide eyes, and I took in a deep breath. “Listen. Don’t mention that nigga to me...” I paused and ran my hand over the top of my head. “Not right now. Not while I’m...” I took in another deep breath. “Oki, just… tell me you need more time.”
The confidence I felt up on the stage earlier when I noticed her hand go to her neck? Lost every bit of it. The longer we stood in silence, the further in the opposite direction she went. I felt it. It wasn’t in the way she pulled her hand away. It wasn’t in her tone. It wasn’t the things she said. It was in the air. It was the connection. It was that... thing. I was losing it.
She didn’t reject me. Didn’t tell me what I needed to hear, neither. And I let her have it. I didn’t push. Didn’t beg. I let her pull away. The difference between her pulling away and those feeble walls she liked to put up with me was that this time it was for good reason. This time, I understood. She didn’t want me. She wasn’t trying to keep me out because she was afraid I would hurt her. She was pulling away because I’d done too much damage, and she was in no position to risk her anymore. In all of the years I’d known Naoki, I had never felt her drift away. Only draw closer. That thing I longed for. That feeling. Those feelings. The feeling of her… it had this subtle draw back. Like the sun when it sat. It didn’t just leave. It had a slow descend and that’s what I felt with her. The sun was setting.
Before it could leave completely, I grabbed her by the waist and forced her to face the mirror. I stood behind her, and we connected there, through our reflections.
Her chest heaved, her pulse raced. It tapped at an insane rate against my lips as I lowered my head there. Inhaled. Tom Ford, Lost Cherry.
“When you put that on earlier, did you think of me?”
She didn’t say anything.
Didn’t have to. I got my answer when she swallowed. I brushed my hands up the length of her arms and pressed my body closer against her. “You look absolutely beautiful tonight. But then again, Naoki, you’re beautiful every day. In ways and places you can’t see. When I call you beautiful… when I look at you the way I look at you, why do you think that is? Hmmm, amou?”
Nothing. Her pulse steadied. Breathing too. I closed my eyes and inhaled more of her. Wished there was a way I could bottle the shit up and keep it on my nightstand for the times I would miss her most. Which was every got damn day. I would need it. To bottle her up. Because although I was pressed against her. And although she felt like mine, she continued to drift. Further. That sun… continued to set.
Me, standing with her, turning to face her toward the mirror, it stopped being about me getting her to understand the way I felt about her, the minute I felt her descend. She’d never understand. She’d never hear me. Because not only couldn’t they see her the way I saw her, she couldn’t neither.
So, I had to show her.
“Because everything… I mean, everything about you is beautiful. Especially the way you try to hide. Especially when you get to scrabbling for walls that never worked on me. Oki, you never needed walls with me. The minute I saw you, I saw you. A woman, hiding her true beauty behind a mask. A woman who came with a set of rules, a box, and walls because she was afraid of being seen. Afraid to be vulnerable. Afraid that one day, someone would see that, it was love she wanted all along. I noticed. I noticed off back. Knew I wasn’t prepared to give you what you desired but… I stayed, and I stole pieces of you because the light you carried behind that mask unveiled a truth of my own. I wanted it too. The things I did… the actions I took… they were never taken to hurt you. Leaving was about me. Leaving was me running. Leaving was me staying in my box. Pandoras and the invitation? Kept it from you because I could see you. Behind that mask… the truth? I saw it. That place… it was no place for you, Oki.”
I paused to snatch a couple of Kleenex from a box sitting on the vanity. Stood behind her again and dapped at wet eyes that were drowning with sadness.
“The only time I fucked up was when I mishandled you and made this,” I motioned between us. “More about me. By bringing my bruised ego into a situation that didn’t require ego at all. With you… I just was. Didn’t need to pretend with you. Just existed. I fucked up. And I’m fucking up again. Pushing against your boundaries. Trying to get you to tell me what I need to hear instead of giving you what you require. Time, space, distance, room to grow. An opportunity to heal whatever demons wake you up in the middle of the night. What I need is to let you go… is to accept shit for what it is.”
I placed a kiss on the side of her neck and, again inhaled. “I trust that it is time you need. Could be wrong. But… that’s what I choose to believe. I won’t force my beliefs on you though, Cheri. If I happen to be wrong, I’ll just be wrong. If you happen to one day look up and realize I was too early, I’ll be here… waiting… ready to receive you. Don’t give a fuck about how much time it takes. I’ll be here… always, waiting. You hear me? I’m patient as fuck, baby.”
Although I’d said what I said, in the back of my mind, I knew it was too late.
I wasn’t too early. I waited too long. It wasn’t patience I needed; it was to let go. And that’s what I did. Walked out of the restroom, found Dion, thanked the Alliance again, and left. Couldn’t imagine spending another minute in that bitch with her there, with him. I didn’t have enough restraint not to follow through with the desire to go across the niggas head a couple times.