5. Tegan
TEGAN
COFFEE DATE – NEXT DAY
“What are you doing, meeting this man for coffee, Baby?” Palmer asked as she hitched her workout bag up her arm.
She was heading to her job at River Oaks Retreat, a yoga and wellness studio located in the upscale community of River Oaks.
She taught hot yoga and yoga retreat, and her dedicated practice showed in the lean frame and toned curves of her body.
I had stopped at her place before heading to the bakery, half-hoping she would talk me out of my decision, and half-hoping she would talk me into it.
I was truly on the fence about meeting Harlem for coffee.
After thinking about my past and all I had gone through with the last two important men in my life, one a mentor and the other my boyfriend, I didn’t want the added stress of being around men in any capacity other than work-related or familial.
I had never been good with having male friends. So, while I tried to convince myself that was all Harlem would be, I knew better. The truth was, I was attracted to the man, and I wasn’t completely convinced that I shouldn’t at least meet for coffee to see where that might lead.
“I don’t know. He’s the unofficial welcoming committee.”
“He’s the what?”
“The committee who welcomes new business owners to the business district.”
“Says who?”
“Says him.”
She shot me a judgmental glance from the corner of her eyes and bunched her lips in a little moue of disappointment. “You don’t have to go you know.”
“I know.” I grew silent and thought about that for a few seconds. The chiming sound Palmer made, mimicking Jeopardy’s Think! countdown tune, filled the pregnant pause. “There’s just something about him that pulls me in,” I finally explained.
“I hope it’s not that bad-boy energy that got you in trouble the last time.”
I rolled my eyes. “Nobody was thinking about Carl. You had to go and ruin a perfectly good day.”
She grabbed her keys, and I followed her to the door.
“No, Baby, I’m just trying to make sure that you keep your heart and libido in check so that your pocketbook doesn’t get hurt again.”
“That was a one-time mistake. Besides, nobody said anything about dating. I just said that he—”
“Pulls you in,” Palmer repeated, finishing my sentence.
I watched as she locked up, and we both jogged down the stairs.
“Listen, I only dropped by to get your advice on whether I should go or not, not to get a lecture.”
“You dropped by hoping to convince me to go along with your little shenanigans.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. I can tell by how you’re dressed in your sexy little outfit.
How many times you’ve gone to meet someone for coffee with your tight, olive-green leather shorts, showing off those golden, thick thighs, and your fitted couture blouse.
Did you know you can see your nipples poking through it? Seriously, sis, they are!”
“Girl, shut up!” I hissed, buttoning my brown suede crop jacket over my nipples.
“Them boots with the fur.” She sang Flo Rida’s “Low” as she pointed at my brown, six-inch, fur boots.
I laughed so hard. “Girl, I can’t stand your ass.”
“Ba-by! Them boots got that booty sitting up fat and high like a donkey’s ass, looking so delicious, you know that nigga’s gonna wanna bite.
Hell, I want to bite, and I don’t roll that way, friend.
You look fine as fuck, and you know it. You just wanted me to see you all dressed up and tell you that this is a great idea,” she replied, throwing her hand at me to indicate my outfit.
I held my brown and olive-green handbag up and twirled myself in a circle. “I look good, friend?”
She laughed and shook her head as she covered her mouth with her hand. “You could’ve at least tried to pretend for five seconds you weren’t trying to get fucked.”
I widened my eyes and stopped twirling. “Is that what I look like?”
“No, but that’s what you’re acting like. Dial the thirst down a few ounces, and you’ll be good, friend.”
I rolled my eyes. “I mean, it really is just coffee. He owns the barber shop across the street, and since I’ve been there, I see a lot of people hanging out there.
He’s got influence in the community, and I think making a good impression on him will go a long way for me in the community, as far as people accepting me, I mean. ”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I’m serious. Besides, you know that I always love to look cute when there’s a good-looking guy in the vicinity. I might not be trying to be picked up, but I’m just a girl who does like to be admired.”
“Go be admired, Baby.” She waved her hand dismissively at me.
We hugged and said our goodbyes before I hopped into the car and drove to the other side of town where my shop was.
I dropped my things off in the shop, checked in with the contractors, and then headed across the street to the coffee shop.
I was surprised to find that he was already inside when I entered.
He was sitting at a table, waiting for me.
I would admit that I was impressed. I had arrived ten minutes early with a tight belly, worried that he might not show up after all.
Harlem looked great in a pair of distressed black, baggy Levis, a black and tan ombré Levi hoodie, and black Forces.
I noticed how the gold chain around his neck looked good against his dark, cocoa-colored skin, and the Rolex with diamond numerals glinted fashionably against his dark coloring.
He had a fresh lineup compared to yesterday’s haircut, and he was freshly shaven.
I liked a man who made a good effort to impress me, even if it was only for a coffee date. That made me feel better about all the hassle I had gone through to find the perfect outfit for him this morning.
His face lit up into a beautiful smile when he saw me, and his dark eyes gleamed with delight. I walked to the table, and he stood up and held out my chair for me.
“I already ordered our special order since I know it’s the only thing you ever order. If you want something else, I can get that too.”
“No, that is fine. Where is our order?”
“I asked them to make it fresh when you arrived. Let me go check to see if they’re starting,” he stated and stood.
I watched as he walked away, and I took in his broad shoulders, muscular body, and the tats that decorated his arms and neck.
The man was fine, but I knew that I didn’t need to start anything new at this point in my life.
There was nothing wrong with appreciating a dark, gorgeous man when he was in the vicinity, and I definitely appreciated Harlem.
He returned to the table with our orders, and he hit me with that brilliant smile that instantly made me melt.
I had never met a man who I was immediately drawn to the way that I was drawn to Harlem, which would make my entire effort to be his friend a struggle.
He seemed to have an aura about himself that a person could tell him everything, and he would hold it close.
I wasn’t about to jump into the deep that way; I barely knew him.
“So, why this neighborhood as opposed to one of the upper scale or at least mid-income level areas?” he asked, jumping right into the deep.
I sipped my coffee and closed my eyes for a moment to savor the taste. When I opened my eyes again, he stared blankly at me.
“What?” I asked, still quietly pondering his question.
“Why did you choose to open a bakery in this neighborhood as opposed to one of the upper scale or at least mid-income level areas?”
“Why not this one?”
“You didn’t grow up around here, did you?” he challenged.
“Old Barrington Heights? No, I didn’t.”
“So, I’ll ask you again, . . . why this neighborhood?”
“You say that as if only those who grew up around here are allowed to invest in this area.” My tone was petulant, as was my body language when I set my cup down and crossed my arms over my chest.
“No, I’m saying this like the only people interested in pouring back into this area are those of us with ties to this area.
Old Barrington Heights is the poorest section of Cherokee Springs.
It’s a rough section of the city, and I ain’t gon’ hold ya, the residents are not always welcoming to outsiders. ”
I nodded. “I know that. I grew up in River Oaks, but we often did community service out here when I was growing up.”
“So, you came from money?”
I released a dry chuckle and shook my head in a swift arc. “We weren’t Charley West wealthy, but more like the Huxtables comfortable,” I explained, referring to Queen Sugar and The Cosby Show.
“Definitely not Good Times though, right?”
“Not at all. My mama and daddy weren’t wealthy, but they provided a comfortable lifestyle for us.
Daddy was a judge, and Mama was a physician’s assistant.
They wanted to make sure that we understood the value of hard work and appreciate what we had been blessed with, while giving back to those who were less fortunate than us.
“Through the church and Girl Scouts, my mama made sure that we volunteered every year. When I did it through Girl Scouts, my brothers did it through Boy Scouts with my daddy. It made an impression on me, and I always vowed that someday, I would return and make a difference. I don’t have a lot of money, but I have gifts and skills. I can use those to give back.
“Another contributing factor that led me here was the prime location between the hood and downtown. I get to serve two very diverse clientele while helping one of them through jobs, donations, and taxes. I truly want to make a difference in a place that needs me, not one that has everything they already need.”
“We appreciate you.”
“So, I take it that you did grow up here.” I picked up my cup and wrapped my lips around my straw again and eyed him casually.
He shook his head, surprising me. “Nah, I didn’t.”
I released a dry, humorless chuckle. “What’s with all that talk then?”
He shined that brilliant smile on me again and replied, “My father used to do work in this area. He used to make sure that we came back and gave back too.”
“What about your mom? Where is she from?”