Imani #2
At her last text, I sit all the way up because I’ve been actually thinking the same thing.
When I first moved here, I talked to Breezy about maybe starting a Hellcat Barbies here.
She founded and started ours in Diamond Cove and I didn’t want to branch off without her permission.
That vision has changed since I’ve been racing at the tracks.
I love it there and I love the diversity of vehicles.
I still want a car club but it can’t be the Hellcat Barbies.
The name has to be more representative of the diversity of the ladies.
Me: I’ve been thinking the same. We can definitely link up and talk about it.
Hazel: Cool. I’ll hit you up in a few days after I know my schedule.
Me: Perfect
I slide off my bed and enter my bathroom.
Thanks to my mom, I’ve been up an hour and my bladder is now begging to be relieved.
After I use it, I decide to go ahead and hop in my shower to officially start my day.
So, I brush my teeth, gargle, wash my face, then pull my locs up into a high bun.
I step into my shower and take my time washing.
When I get out, I moisturize my body with my favorite cocoa butter body oil gel and throw on one of my comfy hoodie dresses.
When I make it downstairs, I pop a pecan dark roast cup in my Keurig, doctor up a mug with a half a pack of instant mocha cappuccino, one packet of raw sugar, and a splash of heavy whipping cream, then start it.
While my coffee drips, I place a cinnamon crunch bagel in my toaster and take my honey pecan cream cheese out of the fridge.
A few minutes later, I’m sitting in my living room, enjoying my bagel and coffee, and watching the latest season of my favorite cooking competition show.
As soon as the main chef challenge is described, there are light taps on my front door followed by the ring of my video bell.
I open my app and see a woman holding a big ass bouquet of flowers.
“How can I help you?” I ask through my doorbell app.
“I have a delivery for Imani Marks,” she says.
“One second please.”
I place my coffee on the table and rush to the door.
When I open it, she hands me the vase filled with the prettiest orange roses.
Excitedly, I rush back to my loveseat and place the vase on my table.
There has to be at least three dozen roses in the beautiful crystal vase.
Without even reading the card, I know it’s from him.
He’s the only thoughtful person that would send me roses in my favorite color.
So appreciative and enamored, I grab my phone and call him.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he answers.
“Good morning and thank you,” I gush.
“For what?”
“For this gorgeous bouquet of the most beautiful orange roses. Thank you, baby.”
“No, thank you for being you but did you read the card?”
“No, I just got them.”
“I need you to read it,” he says and I reach into the roses and grab the card.
“These roses aren’t as beautiful as you but they do have a purpose. Turn this over for a clue,” I read aloud. “What is this?”
“This is only going to work if you follow directions. Turn the card over,” he says cooly.
“Start your engine for a day that can’t be topped. Your next clue is in your glovebox. Clue? Baby, what are you doing?” I ask excitedly.
“You’ll see. Follow directions and read each clue,” is all he says but I have so many questions.
“When did you do all of this? What’s in my car?” I ask as I stand. I’m walking to my door that goes into my garage.
“Read, baby, follow the clues and have fun. I love you,” he says then ends the call.
I’m so damn giddy that I don’t even mind that he ended the call.
I have a clue to find. Equally curious and excited as hell, I rush to my car, open my door, then dig into my glove box.
There’s a black and white checkered envelop and inside it is a note.
I come in a bottle, along with a brush. My colors all vary; put me on, but don't rush.
My location is Precise, ask for the girl upfront for advice.
I read it twice, slower the second time. “Bottle? Brush? Colors? Bottle? Shit! Nail polish. My location is Precise?” I utter as I take the clue with me into the house. I look up nails and Precise and see that there’s a Precise Nails in a shopping plaza not to far from me. So, I call.
“Precise Nails, where beauty happens one nail at a time. How can I help you?” a female says and I can hear her smiling through the phone.
“Hey. This is going to sound a little strange but I’m calling to see if you have an appointment for an Imani today.”
“Imani, can you confirm the last name?”
“Marks,” I quickly respond.
My emotions are on one thousand. I’m excited, nervous, and anxious all at once, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning. I have no idea what to expect and I love it. I love him. He thought of this…for me.
“Yes. We have an eleven-thirty scheduled for you. Our diamond mani and pedi with designer nails,” she says.
“Okay. Thank you.”
After putting my coffee and other half of my bagel in the fridge, I damn near sprint up my stairs and rush into my bedroom.
I’m start taking off my dress as I walk into my closet.
Since I’m getting a pedicure, I need pants that are going to easy roll or push up my legs.
I decide on my black cargo pants, beige hoodie, and UGGs.
My quick bun from this morning is perfectly messy and cute, so I leave it up and just moisturize my face with my Hydra Vizor and put on a little lipliner and gloss.
After a few sprays of perfume, I’m down the stairs and in my ride.
I call Daymir as soon as I back out of my garage.
“What’s up, baby?” he answers.
“Can I ask questions now?” I respond.
“No and this is my last time answering you.”
“Are you serious? Daymir, come on. At least answer this. Is the nail shop my last clue?”
“The clues end when you see me.”
“You? Where?”
“That’s it, baby. No more questions. Just read and follow the clues to me.”
“If this wasn’t so damn exciting, I would be mad at you. I love you for this.”
“Love you too.”
I end the call and turn up my music. Yara and I sing for the remainder of my ride to the shop.
Precise Nails is located in a plaza along with a flower shop, bakery, and a Brewed Bean.
Since it’s only a few minutes after eleven and I didn’t finish my coffee, I pull up in the drive-thru line of Brewed Bean and get a sixteen-ounce brown sugar mocha.
I’m walking in the nail shop ten minutes before my appointment.
When I check in at the front desk, I’m escorted to one of the extra-large plush pedicure chairs. I remove my UGGs, push up my pants, then slide into the seat. A technician walks over and introduces herself.
“Hi. I’m Catrina and I’ll be pampering you today. Would you like something to drink? We have the best mimosas.”
“Maybe later. I have this,” I tell her and nod at my cup.
She starts the water to fill the small tub then motions for me to place my feet inside.
I do and for the next fifty-five minutes, I get the royal treatment.
After soaking my feet, she gives them a sugar scrub, applies a sweet-smelling mask to them, then massages them with warm collagen gloves.
After the gloves, she gives me a fifteen-minute hot stone massage on my feet then a ten-minute hot stone massage on my hands.
She moisturizes my feet next before trimming my cuticles and toenails.
The pedicure ends with her applying a pearl shellac to my toenails.
While I wait for my toes to dry, an in-house massage therapist stands behind my chair and gently massages my neck and shoulders.
His firm but gentle hands relax me into a nap as they kneed away tension that I didn’t know I had.
When my toes are dry, Catrina has to wake me from a light nap.
After gingerly slipping the slides on my feet, she leads me to her nail station.
Once I’m seated, she places an iPad in front of me.
On the screen, there are five different nail shapes.
“How do you like your nails?”
“Number three,” I tell her, referring to what I call ballerina nails. “And I just want an American manicure with gel.”
She smiles then gets started. My manicure is just as detailed and regal as my pedicure. After exfoliating my hands, she treats them to a moisturizing mask with hot towels and another massage than she extends up my arms. She finishes with flawless gel polish. My hands and feet are so beautiful.
“Thanks so much. I have something for you too,” Catrina says after I send her a tip. She hands me a black and white checkered envelope and I smile. “Chile, you have a good man,” she says while cheesing hard. “Have fun today.”
“Thank you.”
I can tell by the expression on her face that she wanted me to open the envelope in front of her.
Curiosity is dancing in her eyes but I have to disappoint her.
This is for me and I rather do it in private.
So, after thanking her one more time, I leave the shop and open the envelope as soon as I’m in my baby.
Not every trip is a race, some take time and require a suitcase. Find me at Passion in The Shops at The Falls.
“A suitcase! Is he taking me somewhere? Where are we going?” I utter excitedly and even though he said he wouldn’t answer me, I still text him.
Me: Are we going somewhere?
True to his word, he doesn’t answer my text, causing me to laugh as I start my baby. I rush to The Shops, obeying all traffic laws but speed. Because I’m too anxious to see what’s next, I bypass the parking garage and opt for valet. I practically march to Passion Boutique.