Chapter 5 #3
He whipped up the drink and set a napkin out in front of her before placing it down.
“None for you?” she asked.
“I’m simple. McCallan over ice works fine for me,” Cassidy stated. “Give me a second. I’ll be right back.” He went to the kitchen and dug through the pantry before emerging with a gingerbread kit in his hands. “I knew we had extras in the back.”
Sloan smiled and sipped her drink. “This is hella good,” she said. “Okay, bartender!” She praised, raising her glass to salute him.
“I’ve had to work the bar plenty of times over the last few months when we got busy. This place is growing faster than I thought it would. I need to hire more help,” he explained.
“That’s a good thing. I’m proud of you for the way you’re attacking life,” Sloan said.
“Making up for lost time. I got to go full speed, you know?”
Sloan opened the kit and laid the items in front of them. He watched as she began to put the house together. “Christmas is your favorite holiday?” he asked.
“Yeah, you can tell?” she laughed.
“This little house lit your whole face up,” Cassidy observed.
“I used to do these with my mom every year on Christmas Eve,” Sloan stated. She picked up one of the gummy candies and popped it into her mouth. “The trick is to make sure you put extra icing on the corners of the walls, otherwise, it’s just going to fall apart.”
She was so meticulous about each placement of every little candy piece.
“You eating more candy than you decorating with,” Cassidy joked. Her laughter professed her guilt.
“That’s why the back of my house always blank. Mind your business if you not gon’ help,” Sloan chastised.
“I’ma let you do your thing,” he said, admiring her.
“Whatever happened to that nigga you were so in love with back in the day?” Cassidy asked.
“Deyontae Cook?” Sloan knew exactly who Cassidy was talking about.
“Yeah, that nigga,” Cassidy said with distaste. “Old-ass nigga, dating your young ass.”
“He was only a senior,” Sloan defended.
“And you were in 8th grade,” Cassidy stated. “Matter fact, you were in the 7th grade when he first started sniffing around. Chester-ass nigga. That’s why I beat that nigga ass. Ho-ass nigga.”
“Times were different back then,” Sloan stated, laughing. “It was like a badge of honor to pull an older boy. When I look back, it was hella creepy.”
“You used to love his bitch ass, too,” Cassidy judged.
“Yeah, until he went to college and broke my heart,” Sloan informed.
“We lasted a few years. His junior year I got on BlackPlanet and found out he was in another girl’s top five.
Turns out he was her boyfriend at Michigan State.
As I was starting my senior year, I was nursing my first real heartbreak. ”
“That top five was treacherous back in the day. I remember three different girls had me in their top five, caught my ass up,” he said, reminiscing as they shared a laugh.
“Who came after him?” Cassidy asked.
Sloan frowned. “Are you checking my ho fax?”
Cassidy bellowed at that. He sipped his drink and came around the bar, pulling up the stool next to hers.
“I’m trying to figure out why a woman like you doesn’t have a man,” Cassidy pried.
“Men don’t like alpha women, Cass. I make my own money, so impressing me with money isn’t a sure win for them.
Then the ones who aren’t in my tax bracket think I’m stuck-up.
I work all the time, so I don’t have hours to spend on the phone with someone.
I don’t respond to texts right away. I can’t hang out at all times of night.
Men lose interest in me fast,” Sloan admitted.
“Being too accomplished is a thing for women.”
“Seems like a trivial thing to overlook a woman like you for,” Cassidy answered.
“Until you’re the man on the other side of 60-hour workweeks, and I’m too tired to have sex at night,” Sloan said. “The men I’ve dated aren’t wrong. I get it.”
“I don’t,” he said as he watched her closely. Everything about Sloan was feminine. From her dainty, almond-shaped, French set, to the way she sat cross-legged on the bar stool. “Niggas have made you think you’re not the prize just because you’re hard to catch.”
He watched her place the final piece of candy on the gingerbread roof, and then she dusted off her hands.
“There,” she beamed with a smile. “All done.” She cracked off a piece of the roof.
“All that work just to destroy it,” he chuckled. She bit into the gooey treat, laughing.
“Yup. You want to try?” she asked. She held it to his mouth, and he bit a piece of the snack. They were one drink in, and the temperature in the room was rising. Their eyes met, and she quickly looked away. “I should go,” she said.
Cassidy finished his drink and then set the tumbler on the countertop. He knocked on the wood before standing. “Okay,” he said. “I’ma wrap-up here. You should head home before it gets too late. I’ma make sure I drop the diapers and shit off to Courtney like you asked.”
She stood, gathered her bag, and dug her keys out . “You remembered,” she smiled.
“I know a honey-do list when I hear one,” Cassidy snickered.
“A what?” Sloan asked.
“Papa told me to always respect a woman’s honey-do list. My mama used to give him all these tasks to get done at the beginning of the day.
Didn’t matter how small they were. Sometimes it was simple shit, but he never missed one thing.
He said it was the way he built trust with my mama.
Showing up, fulfilling her needs, never breaking his word, and fulfilling that damn list. Didn’t matter how big or small.
She never needed to nag him because he prided himself on never forgetting,” Cassidy schooled.
“Papa knows something about women,” Sloan smiled. “That’s incredibly sweet.”
“I never saw a man love a woman better than that man loved my mama,” Cassidy stated.
“Is that how you love women?” Sloan asked.
“I haven’t had the chance yet,” Cassidy said shamefully. “Prison took away a lot. When I find the one, I hope to get it half as right as my parents did.”
Sloan felt like she was listening to a fairy tale. Her hand rested underneath her chin, and she gazed at him with dreamy eyes while he spoke.
“Little badass Cassidy has grown up to be quite a man,” she complimented.
He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Was I that bad?”
“Kind of. Jail wasn’t too far off-brand for you.”
“That’s fucked up,” he shot back. She laughed so hard that she snorted.
“I’m glad you find my imprisonment so entertaining.
” He couldn’t blame her, though. He had been on a bad path as a teenager and a young man.
If the law hadn’t sat him down, the streets would have laid him down. He was lucky to have a second chance.
“You seem to have learned something from it, Cass. Good for you,” she said, getting serious. “Walk me to my car?” she asked.
“That was happening, anyway, don’t insult me,” Cassidy stated seriously.
He followed her outside and walked over to her G-Wagon. “Little Sloan, pushing big toys these days,” he complimented.
She shrugged. “I wanted it until I got it and realized how much gas it sucks up and how rough it rides,” she snickered.
He opened the door for her and held out his hand to help her step up and into the truck.
“Be careful out here. Let me know when you make it home,” he said.
“Is that your slick way of asking for my number?” Sloan asked.
“It wasn’t, but that was smooth as hell,” Cassidy admitted, scratching his temple. Sloan pulled out her phone. “What’s your number?”
“810-785-1325,” Cassidy said. “Have a good night.”
He closed her door and then trudged through the snow back to his lounge as she drove away.