Chapter 4 Bishop #3
It was unnerving but ultimately I liked it, the thought of being able to let my mask slip even if it was just for a moment and maybe Asante would cultivate a space for that.
If he was the man he seemed to be, he was a good man. He hadn’t done anything wrong and I didn’t want to treat him like he had. I didn’t want to be a catalyst for him shifting how he handled things or men.
If he wasn’t the man he seemed to be, who cared? I wasn’t looking for a fucking husband. I’d be married off eventually, but maybe Rook was right. Maybe I just needed to enjoy the ride along the way to marriage.
I sat back up and focused on the rest of my meeting, making a few quick changes to some of our security protocols. Then, I had a quick meeting with Novalie’s father who headed our ground security working specifically with the actual guards so I could focus on our technological aspect.
After our meeting, I dapped my brothers up, planted a kiss to the side of my mother’s head and headed out letting Rook know I’d see him at home.
I was halfway there before I hit an unexpected left and headed toward the club instead of our house.
If I’d hurt Asante’s feelings, I owed him an apology.
He hadn’t done anything wrong and me thinking he’d shrug it off and not care that I hadn’t responded had obviously been wrong. If it hadn’t, he wouldn’t have shut down at the gym.
I’d fucked up. I could admit that and I practiced what I wanted to say to him the entire drive to the club, through security and to his office door but all the words dried up and died in my throat when I tapped on the door and it flew open so that one of the bartenders could file out, pulling her shorts down and giving me a small smile as she went.
I turned to watch her go, my eyes following her until she disappeared around the corner.
“You going to stand in my door all night or you going to tell me what I can do for you, Barron?” Asante’s voice pulled my attention to him and I walked into his office and slid the door shut behind me.
He was sitting behind his desk with an array of papers covering it. His eyes never lifted to me. I pushed my glasses up my nose and walked further into the room, cautiously, one step after another until I came to stand before him.
Then, I collapsed in a chair.
“Can I have a drink?”
“What?” Asante chuckled and he lifted his head. His smile slowly fell and he exhaled and nodded. “Yeah, sure. Pick your poison.”
“Surprise me.”
Asante leaned down and pulled one of his drawers open to grab a bottle of brown liquor and two short glasses that he filled quickly.
He plucked up his glass and I mirrored the gesture. We tapped them against each other, tilted our heads back and took long sips.
I rolled my shoulders and set my glass down. Asante leaned back in his chair, one hand under his chin, the other holding his glass balanced on his knee.
“For real, Bishop, what can I do for you?”
I opened my mouth and snapped it back shut. None of the words I’d pierced together in my mind seemed to make sense to me anymore.
I shrugged.
“I just want to talk.”
“Alright.” Asante shifted in his seat and gestured at me with his glass. “Then, talk.”
“Alright.” I exhaled and tilted my head back, downing the rest of my drink. “Give me a minute.”
“Take all the time you need.” Asante looked back down at the papers in front of him.
He flipped through them, reorganizing their order and occasionally scribbling something on them.
I reached over the desk and for his glass. He didn’t even glance at me as I took it and finished his drink off too.
“I enjoyed our conversation the other night,” I said quietly and set his glass on the corner of the desk.
His eyes slowly lifted to mine and he sat back in his seat. “Okay?”
“It was a little unnerving.” I shrugged.
“Usually me and the men I hang out with don’t really do the long term conversation shit.
We just kind of do what we do and part ways and after you uh, called me out on my word choice I didn’t think you were the type so I cut my losses, but honestly, you were worth responding to so I’m sorry if that was some scary ass, loser ass shit. ” I scoffed.
“Nah, nigga. That’s for sure some weak ass, scary ass shit,” Asante deadpanned.
I swallowed. A beat passed. Then, another. Then, a smile slowly stretched across his face making me smile in return. I chuckled and shook my head.
“I can take that on the chin.”
“Good.” Asante pulled his glass closer to himself and refilled it a fourth of the way up. “So, what’s up, Bishop? What do you want for real? You came out here just to apologize or what?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I mean, I think it would be cool to get those drinks with you one day and just talk but I also want to make sure it’s real clear that I’m getting married in two years.”
“I hear you, Bishop, and I want to make it clear that you can choose how you move and navigate your sexuality, but you can’t dictate how I move and navigate mine.”
“Asante-”
He cut me off. “I’m a grown ass man. I don’t need you trying to protect me or make choices for me and I’ll be sure that I do the same for you.
I’ll make sure you have all the information you need to know how you want to move, and I’d appreciate it if you did the same, but ultimately, we make our own choices and we decide what we want and don’t want to do.
I’m not going to presume to know how you feel or what you think. Do the same for me.”
“Yeah, alright.” I nodded at that. “That makes sense.” I shifted in my seat.
Asante lifted an eyebrow in obvious amusement. “Let me hear it.”
“Rook has it in his mind that we should enjoy our time before our marriages since we’ll never get this chance again and I don’t know, I think he might be onto something.”
“So, what? You want to spend that time with me?”
“I want to get to know you and see if that’s something we both want to do,” I confessed.
“That’s fair.” He nodded once.
For some reason that shocked me. I blinked at him and swallowed nervously.
“You uh, sure?”
“Yeah. I’m positive.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“You out of your element now, Barron?” Asante asked and I tried to ignore how fucking shocked he sounded by that realization.
“I’ve never dated before.”
“Dated?”
“That’s what people call it when they meet up and get to know each other and shit, right?”
“Depending on who you ask.” Asante smiled and there was a glint in his eye that had my eyes focused on his. “I’ll take the lead on this one then. What do your days look like?”
“I don’t work a nine to five, remember?”
“Good. Me neither.” He plucked his glass up and drank it back. “How do you feel about Monday night, seven PM, here at the club?”
“Sounds good.”
“Alright. Then, I’ll see you then.”
“Alright.”
I climbed to my feet unsure what to do next whether that was offering him a hand to shake or circling the damn desk to hug him. I did neither. I slipped one hand in my pocket and pushed my glasses up my face with the other one.
“Should I bring something?” I asked as an afterthought.
“Nah. You’re good.”
“Alright.” I licked my lips and nodded. “Have a good night then, Asante.”
“Have a good night, Barron.”
To say I was nervous about meeting up with Asante for drinks was a fucking understatement.
I flirted and fucked, usually with people I met in the club or at parties that were made up of other people who dealt with the underside of Crescent Falls and Miller’s Pointe.
This was uncharted territory for me and I found myself mentally repeating that this shit wasn’t that deep.
No matter how shit went, this was a three year contract at best.
I parked outside of the club at 6:45 PM anyway. I smoked a cigarette and listened to some music while I waited. I tried to think of other shit for us to do to hang out so we didn’t have to just fuck our livers up to spend time trying to get to know each other.
I took note of a few different events we could probably check out before the alarm I’d set went off at 6:59 PM. I sent Asante a text letting him know I was outside the club, locked my car up and hopped out.
When I made it to the front door, Asante was already out there waiting for me. He grinned and waved as I closed in on him. When I was close enough he dapped me up and yanked me so we could hit each other on the back.
“What’s up?” He greeted me.
“What’s up?”
Asante yanked the door open and moved to the side so I could walk in ahead of him. I looked around the empty space as we walked further inside.
I paused the second I saw the set up. The club had pretty much been cleared out.
There was a simple table in the middle of the area with two spots made up.
I looked back at Asante who brushed past me and continued his trek to the table.
I didn’t comment. I just trailed behind him so we could sit together.
There was already a pitcher of water on the table and Asante plucked it up immediately.
“I don’t drink on weekdays but you’re more than welcome to have whatever you want.” He poured some water into his glass.
“Nah. I’m good.” I picked my glass up and he filled mine up too.
My head jerked to the side and my eyes immediately went to a woman who was peeking from behind a wall near the bar. Asante shook his head and she nodded and slipped back behind the wall.
“You got us a private chef?” I looked back at him.
“It made the most sense to me,” he said. “I figured you weren’t the kind of man that was going to be going on public dinner dates and shit with another man so this seemed like a good enough first date.”
“A date,” I repeated after him, slightly astonished that I was actually on a date with a man, a man that was out here hiring private chefs and making up his work space for us to spend time together out of the public eye.
“That’s what you wanted this to be, right?” Asante teased.
“Yeah. That’s what I said.”
“Then, welcome to our first date, Bishop.”