6. Azalea
6
Azalea
Amina was getting on my damn nerves.
She had some work thing she was going to, and she needed a dress. According to her, nothing in her overstuffed closet would do.
We’d been at the mall for three hours.
If it wasn’t for the familiar smells of warm chocolate chip cookies, buttery popcorn, and some non-descript kiosk perfume wafting into my nose every few seconds, I’d have left two hours ago.
“Girl if you don’t just pick something so we can go eat.”
She peeked out from behind a rack of dresses. “You could help me, you know.”
She laughed at the mean face I made. I could never pull off mad, even when I was mad.
She knew I wasn’t good at this stuff. I’m not a fashion girl at all. Like, not even a little bit. If I didn’t wear a uniform to work, I’d create one and wear that. Zero interest. As long as my face and hair look good, I feel like I’m on point.
“So, I had my first home visit the other day.”
She stopped sifting and looked up at me with her patented disdain.
“I don’t like it.”
I laughed. “I know you don’t. But it went fine.
I gave her the details with the intention of putting her worrisome mind at ease, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.
“Okay, now I really don’t like it,” she said when I finished.
“I told you, I was perfectly safe.”
“You said he had an attitude. You were alone with him. In his apartment. Anything could have happened to you.”
“It was fine, Mina. He’s gruff, but harmless.”
“You are so naive sometimes, my God.”
She punctuated that with an eyeroll so intense, it looked like it hurt.
“Why do you always call me naive?”
“Because you are!” She took several steps closer until she was just a few inches away. “You can’t trust men. You especially can’t trust men who are jailbirds .”
“Don’t use that word.”
“Criminals, then.”
I moved around her to take a look at the clearance rack. “Everybody deserves a second chance.”
“Actually, everybody doesn’t. That’s why people get life with no parole.”
“Well seeing as he’s on probation, that’s clearly not relevant here.”
“Whatever. I don’t even wanna know about it, because then I’ll feel compelled to tell you how I feel, and then I’m the bad guy. Nope. Not doing it.”
She was doing it.
We both knew that, but I let her have it.
What I shouldn’t have let her have was my opinion on his looks.
“He’s actually…kind of cute.”
Just that fast, she was right back in my face, but this time, there was a finger leading the charge.
“See, that’s how women get caught up. That felonbae shit is only cute on the internet.”
I swatted her hand away. “I just made an observation. You know I appreciate beauty no matter where it is. And this man is beautiful.”
She closed her eyes. I guess she went to her happy place for a minute because when she came back to me, she was calmer.
“The only reason I’m not cussing you the fuck out right now is because I know you’re not stupid. I know you would never jeopardize your career or your well-being for a man.”
Her eyes pleaded with me for confirmation.
“Exactly,” I said, giving it to her. “I would never.”
Her eyes followed me all the way around the clearance rack. “I’m serious, Azi. It’s not worth it.”
“I just agreed with you.”
“I know, but…you have that look in your eyes.”
“What look?”
“That dreamy look.” She eased her way through the racks and stood in front of me again, grabbing my hands. “Bitch, listen to me. You can’t fix him.”
“Oh my God, stop being so extra. I said I would never. The end.”
Unconvinced, she held my hands tighter. “They say criminals be having the best dick. Issa trap!”
Laughing, I snatched my hands free and commenced my perusal of the seventy percent off jeans. “I’m around criminals all the time.”
“But you’ve never talked about how beautiful one is.”
“It was just an observation. I wish I hadn’t said anything.”
“I bet you do.”
“Anyway, enough about stuff that doesn’t matter. Let’s find you a dress.”
She eventually dragged me to the fitting room. I found a seat just outside the door, the only woman among a bunch of bored men holding purses and scrolling phones. I oohed and ahhed at everything Mina walked out in, but my mind was back in Century Place apartments.
Number 608, to be exact.
I would never.
I could never.
But Lord, have mercy. That man was so enticing.
I can’t honestly say I found Roman attractive after the first year or so of living together. I chalked it up to familiarity. I told myself it was only natural to get used to my man’s looks. I wasn’t supposed to want to tear his clothes off anymore.
But that couldn’t be true. Mina was all over Patrick all the time, and they were married. The fires still burned hot for them. You could see it in the way they interacted.
I couldn’t imagine a time when I’d ever get tired of looking at Isaac—or a man like Isaac. It didn’t seem possible to get to the point of faking sleep or a headache to avoid the task of making love to him. I mean, a man like him.
Whatever.
None of this mattered anyway. He was off limits.
Unless he had a long-lost, law-abiding twin brother, every thought in my head was nothing more than a dream.
A dream I would not be manifesting.