Chapter 10
I felt like shit.
I wasn’t hungover, but it was clear to me that I drank too much. The only thing that made sense was that the alcohol, the music, and the good time forced me to feel something I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t just harmless-attraction flutters in my belly. It was a prominent tugging at my heartstrings. Ahmad was just my friend—my married friend.
I should’ve never had that third shot.
Guilt had my stomach twisted in knots. I needed to get my shit together, so I spent Sunday trying to shake it off. I focused on me and my self-care. With a massage, pedicure, spa treatment, and no less than twelve hours of sleep, I rolled into Monday feeling good.
I felt like myself.
As I drove home from work, my phone rang. “Hey, Jazz!” I greeted her in a singsong tone.
“You sound like you’re in a good mood,” Jazmyn pointed out.
I glanced at myself in the rearview mirror as I eased around a corner. “I am in a good mood,” I replied, picking up speed to beat the yellow light. “How are you? Is everything okay?”
She sighed loudly.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she groaned. “Can we just talk about you? I need to take my mind off all the stuff here. Tell me about your date this weekend.”
“Understood. But you know if you want to talk, I’m here.”
“I know, and I appreciate it. I do. But right now, I need you to tell me about your date.”
“Oh, well, that was a complete shit show.” I launched into a retelling of what happened with Brayden and his wife. I concluded with how I spent the next couple of hours after he’d been tossed out, laughing and joking with Ahmad. “And then around midnight, it was way too busy for him to really have a conversation and I was getting tired, so I headed home.”
“This Ahmad sounds like a good one.”
My lips curled into a soft smile. “He is.”
“His wife is lucky.”
I cleared my throat at the sobering reminder. “Agreed.”
“So, who’s next on the roster?”
“Girl, I haven’t even opened the app again. I just needed a break.”
“I get that.” She paused contemplatively. “But didn’t you say you wanted a date for your birthday?”
“I did. But like I told Nina, I can’t do the bullshit on the apps. I want to meet someone organically.”
“But let’s be for real, Aaliyah. The men on the apps are the same men who are out in the streets. They are the same.”
I groaned. “I know you’re right, but, girl… where are the normal ones?”
“I’ll tell you where they aren’t—this small-ass town I call home,” she grumbled.
“You missing the city?”
“Hell yeah! It’s been made painfully clear to me why I left home and never looked back.”
“Aww, I’m sorry, girl. How much more do you have to do at the house?”
She grumbled under her breath, but I couldn’t make out her response.
“Are there any men at that bar where you’ve been meeting your dates?” she asked, changing the subject.
Nodding in understanding, I rolled with it.
“I haven’t noticed anyone at the bar,” I answered.
“Hmm.”
Looking at the Bluetooth speaker as if we could see each other, I made a face. “What? What’s that noise supposed to mean?”
“I mean, you’re looking for a man to lock it down with this summer, and you’ve been spending time in a bar not noticing the men in there. That seems counterproductive.”
“Because I’m on dates with other men.”
“I mean…” She stretched the word out skeptically.
“What?”
“You said you get to the bar early and you stay after the date ends.”
“Yeah, but…” I cleared my throat. “You’re right.”
“So, if you’re not trying to be on the app and you’re not looking around in real-life settings, what are you doing?”
I groaned. “I don’t know.”
“You need help,” she giggled.
Her words mimicked Ahmad’s, and I shifted uncomfortably.
“I don’t need help! Why does everyone think I need help? It’s these men on the dates that need help!”
“Oh, believe me, I know,” Jazmyn agreed. “I just want you to get what you want—whatever that is. And if you’re not on the apps and not looking around at the bar and not wanting to be set up, maybe you need to go out and see what’s up.”
I was quiet for a moment. “Well, I did go out on Saturday night. Ahmad invited me out with him and his friends.”
“Oh really?! So, you let Ahmad set you up with one of his friends?”
“Not exactly. He essentially said he just wants me to be around men who know how to act so that I can avoid the types of men I was attracting.”
“Yeah, that sounds like a setup. Were the friends cute?”
“The friends were fine as fuck. All three of them looked good. But it was a friend linkup. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Mm-hmm.”
I laughed. “I’m serious. It wasn’t exactly like that, but it was a good time.”
“You were out with three fine-ass men and you didn’t flirt with any of them? You didn’t get anyone’s number? You didn’t shoot your shot?”
I told her about the night, Ahmad outside of the bar, Ahmad’s friends, and the fun we all had. But I held back on all the details because anything I felt was alcohol-induced and didn’t mean anything.
“So, does that mean Ahmad’s friend is going to be the next lucky bachelor in your summer of love?” she asked. “You’re going to take him to Onyx next?”
“No! It was just harmless flirting. Leon was not actually trying to take me out.”
“What if he was?”
I shook my head.
Something about going on a date with Ahmad’s friend with Ahmad right there watching us didn’t sit right with me. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but it was uncomfortable to even think about.
“No, it wasn’t like that. I assure you. But I’m going to have to figure something else out. Nina said I should get back on TenderFish.”
“Like I said before, I want you to do what you think is best for you. And you’re not going to meet anyone sitting at home. If I were in your shoes and I had your goal in mind, I probably wouldn’t get on an app. But I would jump on being set up by friends.”
“You and Nina haven’t set me up with anyone since college.”
“I was actually thinking about Ahmad. That’s your friend, right?”
“Right, right,” I said quickly.
“You said he invited you out, and even though he said it wasn’t a setup, it clearly was. He’s gotten to know you, and he’s known his boys for however long he’s known them. There was a reason he wanted you to come out with them. And it sounds like it was to hook you up.”
I thought about what she said and how the night unfolded.
It made sense, but at the same time, it didn’t.
Logically, the stage was set for a setup on Saturday night.
But that dance.
Swallowing hard, I shook off the thought and made my way into the parking garage of my building.
“I hear you. But I think I’ll pass on Ahmad’s friends,” I told her.
“So, that means you’re going to go out more or you’re going to get back on the app?”
“Yeah, I guess I’m going to have to do both.”
We talked for about fifteen more minutes before we said our goodbyes. I spent the next hour thinking about our conversation. I’d talked to Nina over my lunch break, and she’d said something similar—more vulgar, but similar.
With the encouragement of my best friends, I sat on my couch after dinner and finally opened the app. I read through all the messages, deleting and ignoring most of them. But a few stood out.
“Mike,” I whispered to myself as I eyed his profile.
He was a good-looking firefighter with a decent bio page. But it was his opening message to me that caught my attention.
Mike:Aaliyah, I run into burning buildings for complete strangers. Imagine what I would do for you.
Aaliyah:Nice line.
Mike:Nice? That’s all I get? That was my best line!
Aaliyah:Oh, so that must be the one you use on all the women you contact. Let me get another one.
Mike:You promise not to block me?
Aaliyah:I can’t make that promise. It depends on how bad it is.
Mike:I can’t risk it!
Aaliyah:Fine, I won’t block you.
Mike:In my line of work, I put out fires. But say the word and we can start one.
Aaliyah: Ha! That one actually made me laugh a little bit.
Mike:Just a little? You’re tough.
Aaliyah:I am.
Mike:Well, it’s a good thing I like tough.
I spent the next few days getting to know Mike. We had a great rapport. He said he liked to dance, and the first thing I thought of was my Cinderella moment on the dance floor at my party. We didn’t exchange numbers, so we alternated between texting and video chatting through the app. It didn’t bother me that he didn’t ask me for my number. But after the incident with Brayden being married, I was a little cautious. When he asked me for a date, I suggested Friday at Onyx. And even though my hopes weren’t high, and I didn’t even feel that excited about the date, I still took the time to get cute.
Wearing a sundress and a pair of sexy sandals, I entered Onyx almost an hour before my date. There were a few people already in the bar, and Ahmad was taking an order when I sat down on the barstool that had become my favorite.
“Hey!” I greeted the woman with the cute Afro puffs. “Asia, right?”
She gave me a beaming smile. “Hey! Welcome back. What can I get you?” She glanced down the bar to Ahmad, who was looking our way as he prepared drinks. “Or are you waiting for my brother?”
“Oh, wow, wait… Ahmad is your real brother?”
I assumed when they said bro and sis, they meant it colloquially. I had no idea they were actually siblings.
She laughed. “Yeah. He looks like our dad. I look like our mom.”
“So, gorgeousness just runs in the family, huh?”
She giggled. “Thank you. You need anything while you wait?”
I twisted my lips. “I’m good for right now. Thank you, though. And I’m not waiting for him. He’s just watching my back and helping me out.”
“So, you two are just friends?” she asked, a curious smile played on her lips.
“Yes,” I assured her. “I don’t date married men.”
“I think last week determined that was a lie,” Ahmad quipped, hearing the latter part of my statement.
Asia laughed, patting Ahmad’s shoulder and walking to the other end of the bar.
“Why must you always have something to say?” I wondered, staring up at him. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”
He flashed me a smile. “Come on. You know that was funny.”
“It’s not funny that I was tricked into a date with a married man.”
“A widower,” he clarified with a serious expression. “He said he was a widower.”
Shaking my head, I stifled a laugh. “You know what? I’m done.”
“No, we’re just getting started. You want a drink, or are we waiting for bachelor number three to get here?”
“I’m going to wait.” I eyed his muscular frame. “What’s going on with your smedium shirt? You trying to get extra tips or something?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “It isn’t that tight.”
“Whoa, slow down with all those quick moves, Hulk.”
His head tipped back, and he let out a hearty laugh. “Don’t do that.”
“Listen, I’m just looking out.” I tried to keep a straight face as I watched his body quake with laughter. “I wouldn’t want you to have to work in tattered cloth and scraps of fabric because you reached up for a top-shelf bottle.”
“What’s so funny?” Asia asked as she grabbed a couple of bottles that were behind him.
“Aaliyah said my shirt was tight,” Ahmad answered.
She pulled a face. “She’s not wrong, bro.”
His mouth opened, and he stared at her in disbelief. “This is some bullshit.”
“No, what’s bullshit is that I can see your heart beating through your shirt,” I joked.
The three of us were cracking up.
They left to go take more drink orders and greet other guests, and I checked my phone.
“So, what do I need to know about this one?” Ahmad asked a few minutes later.
“Um, his name is Mike, and he’s a firefighter.”
“Mike, huh?”
I pursed my lips. “Let’s hear it. You had something to say about the names of the other two. What do you have to say about Mike?”
He shook his head and lifted his arms. “I got nothing. I hope he’s a good dude.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “You do?”
“Yeah. You’re cool. Mean as hell, but you’re cool.”
“You’re cool, too. Not funny at all, but cool.”
“Ha ha.” His tone was dry, but his lips still turned upward.
I looked around and then met his gaze again. “I have a serious question…”
“What’s up?”
“How long were you on the app? How long did it take you to find someone decent?”
“When I was on the app, I wasn’t looking for someone decent. I was looking for someone compatible,” he answered before a slim woman with long hair rushed up next to me, commanding his attention.
Bumping me, she didn’t acknowledge me or excuse herself. “I want to give—I mean get—a blow job,” she announced, batting her eyelashes. “And can you put it on my tab?”
“Just one shot?” he asked, not flinching.
“That’s all it’ll take,” she flirted.
“Coming right up.” He pointed at me. “To be continued.”
When he walked off to get the ingredients, the woman tossed her hair over her shoulder and eyed me.
“You come here a lot,” she stated.
It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t feel an obligation to respond. Slowly, I nodded, unsure of why she was even talking to me.
“I’ve seen you around,” she continued. “You know the bartender. Are you his cousin or something? A friend?”
“Yeah,” I replied, glancing down to see Ahmad bend over to put the whipped cream back into the refrigerator. “I mean, I met him here.”
“Do you know anything about his situation?” She pointed to her hand and wiggled her ring finger.
I could feel the perplexed expression on my face. “Other than the fact that he is wearing a wedding band?”
She looked around guiltily. “Never mind,” she snapped.
“Here’s your shot,” Ahmad announced, sliding the small glass over to her.
She grabbed her hair with one hand and pulled it back. Leaning over, she wrapped her crimson-slathered lips around the rim of the glass, securing it before she lifted her head and downed the drink with no hands. She set the glass back on the bar and then licked her lips.
There were about five people actively watching in awe. But based on the way she was eyeing Ahmad, it was clear she was doing it for his benefit. Unfortunately for her, he wasn’t paying attention. He had already moved on to take someone else’s order.
A frustrated grunt escaped her, and she stamped her foot. Catching my eye in the mirror, she turned to me. “How do you get him to pay attention to you?”
I lifted my shoulders. “We just talk.”
“I wish it was that easy for me!” She started to turn around, and then she looked back at me. “And I love your confidence, by the way,” she commented, pointing at what I was wearing. “That actually looks really good on you.”
My lips parted, but words didn’t come out.
What the fuck?
It wasn’t the first time that backhanded compliment had been thrown at me. It always held the tone of condescension. But each time, it grated on my nerves more. Because it wasn’t about my confidence. It was about their perceived judgment of my body and their disbelief that I managed to be confident despite what I looked like in their opinion. And it usually came from people who would swear up and down they were being complimentary.
Between the confidence comment and the use of actually, I imagined slapping her across her face like Brayden’s wife did to him. But because I couldn’t fight, I just had to settle for a verbal confrontation.
My lip curled in disgust. “What do you mean this actually looks good on me?”
“I’m just saying that it’s really flattering on your figure. And your confidence pulls it off.”
“My confidence? What are you talking about?”
“You know.”
“I don’t.”
She shrugged. “Your whole look. The way you carry yourself. You just look so… confident is all,” she explained. “The way you just chat it up with someone like him. I wish I was as confident as you.”
“How am I confident?” Even though I knew exactly what she was insinuating, I wanted to put her on the spot. “And why would it be difficult for me to talk to someone like him?”
“You just…” She gestured to my body and flashed me a fake smile. “Never mind.”
I stared at her, making her sit in her discomfort. “Commenting on my confidence and all I’m doing is sitting here is weird.”
“Or you could’ve just said thank you because I was being nice to you,” she snarled.
I shook my head. “You were being condescending, not nice. And to be clear, I’m beautiful, funny, and he enjoys my company. That’s why he chats it up with me.”
Turning on her heel, she stormed away. “Whatever.”
Existing in my body and not being ashamed of who I was and how I looked was only an act of confidence to people who viewed me as if something was wrong with me.
And there was nothing wrong with me.
“What’s wrong with you?” Ahmad asked.
My eyes jerked up to his. “Nothing!”
“Then why do you have that look on your face?” His eyes pinged over me. “You good?”
“I’m fine.”
“You look stressed.”
“I’m not stressed. I’m…” My sentence trailed off with a sigh.
He stared at me, waiting with anticipation. But I didn’t feel like explaining the interaction I’d just had with his fan.
He checked his watch. With a serious expression, he asked, “Are you getting stood up again?”
I pursed my lips. “No.”
“You sure?” He lowered his voice. “It’s happened before.”
“Shut—”
“Is that him?” Ahmad interrupted me, nodding to a confused-looking man standing at the door, staring at his phone.
I didn’t feel anything as I watched him.
“Yeah.” I nodded slowly. “I think so.”
“You good?”
I forced a big smile. “Yes.”
“You’re full of shit.”
“And you’re full of yourself.”
Snickering, he backed away to go help someone a few seats down. “Okay, I’ll be back.”
When Mike looked up, he craned his long neck until he saw me. His lips pulled into a tight smile. His eyes roamed my body as he approached.
“Aaliyah?” he asked, extending his hand.
I shook it in return. “Mike, hi.”
He sat down on the stool beside me and then looked down at his phone. When he looked back at me, he laughed under his breath. “Wow, you look different in person.”
My stomach sank. “Um…”
Ahmad strolled up just in time. “Can I get you two something to drink?”
Mike turned to face him. “Yes, thanks. Two IPAs?” He pulled a twenty out of his pocket and then turned to me. “I know you said you didn’t like beer, but trust me.”
I shrugged. “If I don’t like it, I’m not going to finish it.”
“If you don’t like it, I’ll finish yours, and then you can get a cosmo or some shit. But you have to just try it. It’s different. It’ll change your mind.”
Being a good sport, I smiled. “Okay…”
Ahmad looked at me for a second. “Okay.”
When he walked off to prepare our drinks, I noticed Mike looking down at his phone again.
“So…” I started. “I’m glad you asked me out. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Yeah.” He slipped his phone in his pocket. “It’s nice to actually see you in person.”
Ahmad placed two mugs in front of us and then immediately went to take another order.
“You ready to try this?” Mike asked.
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, sniffing the drink.
He lifted his mug. “Let’s do this.”
I took a sip while he took a gulp.
It was not good.
“It’s bitter,” I told him, sliding the drink away from me.
“You don’t understand,” he argued before taking another gulp. “This isn’t that bad, but it isn’t the best. Now if you want the best…”
For thirty-four uninterrupted minutes, that man explained India pale ale, hops, and his quest to brew his own beer. It did not matter to him that my eyes had glazed over or that he was having a conversation by himself. When he did ask me questions, they seemed rhetorical because while I was in the midst of answering, he would interrupt me and tell me how I didn’t like beer, so I didn’t know. As he finished his IPA lecture, he’d managed to finish his beer and half of mine.
“You know…” he began. “You’re bigger than you look in your pictures. I didn’t know.”
“What?” My entire body tensed. “No. I don’t think so.”
He nodded. “Yeah, you are.”
“The pictures on my profile are very recent, and we’d had a few video calls where you saw my full body. So, no, you knew.” I shook my head profusely. “You definitely knew—”
“Don’t sweat it. It’s okay. I don’t usually date fat chicks, but you’re actually pretty,” he offered with a straight face.
My forehead crinkled as my eyebrows stretched to reach my hairline. There was that word again. Actually.
His words came out of nowhere and I felt like I’d been slapped awake. He’d gone from droning on about brewing to giving me my second backhanded compliment of the night.
“What?” I managed to reply.
“You’re pretty.” He downed the rest of the alcohol and placed the glass back down. “Fat isn’t usually my thing. I love thick. I’m cool with big. But fat isn’t really my type. But I’m glad I decided to give you a chance.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. I like my women thick, but not…” His eyes zeroed in on my belly. “I don’t know. But something about you made me want to give you a try. Like I said, it’s not usually my thing, but with you… I’m willing to make the exception.”
“Don’t. I’m going to save us both a lot of time. If fat isn’t usually your thing, don’t let me be the one to change your mind.”
He frowned. “What?”
I looked down the bar to see how close Ahmad was to us. “I’m not interested.”
“You aren’t interested. You? With your big back? Aren’t interested? In me?” He let out a scornful laugh. “I was the one giving you a chance.”
“And now you can take your chance and give it to someone else. Because I’m actually not interested in you.”
His face hardened and he stood up abruptly, almost tipping his barstool over. “I didn’t want you anyway, fat bitch,” he snarled.
“Yes, you did,” I replied, rolling my eyes.
I knew it was coming.
Fat bitchwas a go-to term when people with bruised egos lashed out—especially if they’re attacking anyone my size. And even though I felt it coming, the public setting made it worse.
“But this fat bitch doesn’t want you,” I continued.
“Whatever,” he spat before stomping away.
Anger and embarrassment enflamed my cheeks as I glanced around to see if anyone overheard the interaction. Ahmad was already on his way down to my end of the bar, ignoring the people waiting to place an order.
“What happened?” he asked.
I nodded, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. I’m just going to head home.”
“What happened?” he repeated, more forcefully.
I hooked my thumb toward the people waiting for him or Asia to take their orders. “You have customers.”
His eyes pierced mine. “Did he touch you?”
“No, he just said some shit I didn’t appreciate, and I told him I wasn’t interested. He got mad and left.”
His eyes pinged my face. “What did he say?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I shook my head. “We just weren’t compatible, and he didn’t like that I was the one to point that out.”
“The next time some shit goes down, you let me know. That’s the whole point of this.”
I nodded.
“I said I was going to look out for you, so you have to stop being stubborn and let me,” he continued roughly.
“Excuse me!” a woman called out, trying to get Ahmad’s attention.
Ignoring her, he held my gaze, causing my stomach to knot. “Okay?”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“You want a drink?”
“Nah, I think I’m going to head out.”
He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. Assessing me quietly, he nodded. “Okay. See you Friday?”
I gave him a small smile as I got up. “See you Friday.”
I honestly didn’t know if I was going to see Ahmad on Friday. I was close to giving up on the TenderFish app after the string of dates I’d dealt with. I had a lot on my mind, and giving up on dating, on the boyfriend, on the yacht was at the forefront.
“Aaliyah,” Ahmad called after me. “What are you doing on Monday?”
I turned and looked at him. “What?”
“Monday…” He grabbed a glass and shifted it from one hand to the other. “What are you doing?”
“Working…” I cocked my head to the side. “Why?”
“Meet me here. Seven o’clock. I have something for you.”
My eyebrows shot up. “For me?”
“Ahmad, I need some help over here,” Asia called out from the other side of the bar.
He glanced over to her and then back to me. Pointing his finger, he said, “Monday.”
He turned away before I could respond. So instead, I lifted my hand in a wave and left the bar.