15. Nairobi Crawford
“We’re going on a date,” Fontaine announced.
I looked up from my phone, caught off guard.
We were at my condo, not working for once.
Things with the Order were still hanging over my head.
Fontaine insisted I keep stalling, and I could tell there was something he wasn’t telling me.
I didn’t press, but the waiting was starting to wear on me.
I knew it was only a matter of time before they did something else that might get someone killed.
“Okay…” I said, setting my phone down. “What brought this on?”
“I’m tryna give you the real thing,” he said, wrapping his arms around my waist. “We’re together, right? That means we gotta do things real couples do. Grown people activities that involve you wearing something that’s gon’ distract me all night.”
The warmth of his breath on my neck made me squeeze my thighs together. I wriggled against him, trying to suppress the smile creeping up my face. Heat rose to my cheeks—not just from the way he held me, but from the weight of what he said.
I'd had plenty of lovers. Dinners, drinks, and situations—both personal and by way of work—that blurred into each other. But not someone carving out time just to spend time with me. CJ had come the closest, but that had always been casual.
But Fontaine, after everything, still wanted to court me. Woo me. Show me what it was like to simply be with someone. It didn't matter that I was pushing forty, or that I was just discovering soft parts of myself I never knew existed. He was here, willing to give me something resembling normal.
I turned in his arms, looking up at him. “Where are we going, Mr. Jackson?”
He licked his lips and smiled. “It’s a surprise,” he said, eyes gleaming. “Just be ready in three hours.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “And wear something I’ll wanna shoot a nigga for looking at you too hard in.”
“That’s not really helpful.”
He chuckled. “Good.”
It took me forty minutes to decide what to wear—forty minutes of tossing dresses around and overthinking, trying to tell myself this was just another night.
I finally settled on a long-sleeved black lace paneled mini dress. It was sexy but still classy. Absolutely the type of dress that would make people turn heads.
I showered and took my time getting ready, feeling…
giddy. It was stupid, but there was something about this that brought out a version of myself I didn’t know existed.
Having short hair made things easy—a little water, some mousse, and my tiny coils sprang into place.
I beat my face and gave myself a dark red lip.
Fontaine was waiting on the couch, phone in hand. He’d gone home to change and came back looking like he walked out of a high fashion magazine ad—tailored black slacks, and a black cashmere sweater that clung lightly to his chest and arms that made me bite my lip as I took him in.
“Shit,” he said when he looked up and saw me. His gaze swept from my heels to my face, lingering there before he exhaled. “You look…yeah.”
I smirked, grabbing my clutch off the table. “I just followed your instructions.”
“You might’ve followed them a little too well,” he said, pulling me to him and nuzzling my neck. His hand drifted down and grabbed my ass.
“See, you about to have us miss whatever you planned,” I laughed, pushing him off.
When we got to the car, he handed me a satin eye mask.
“What’s this for?”
“I don’t want you to know where we’re going till we get there,” he said as he started the ignition.
I pursed my lips, turning it over in my hands. “I think you’re taking this a bit too seriously.”
He shot me a sideways look. “Kitten.”
The way he said it—a soft warning but also heavy with meaning—made me sigh. “Fine.”
He grinned as I slipped the mask over my head.
I leaned back and let the darkness settle in. My other senses immediately heightened now that my vision was gone. Fontaine’s smoky cologne wrapped around me as he turned up the radio. Xavier Om?r’s voice filled the car as his hand rested on my thigh, making my breath hitch.
“I think you’re enjoying this more than me,” I said about ten minutes into the ride.
He chuckled under his breath. “Maybe. You don’t like not being in control. I like that you don’t know what’s coming next.”
I did hate not knowing what came next. My life depended on control. I calculated exits as soon as I walked into a room. This kind of trust and vulnerability was alien to me.
“We’re almost there,” he said as if he sensed the question on the tip of my tongue.
When the car finally slowed and came to a stop, Fontaine reached over and pulled the mask off himself, his fingers grazing my cheek in the process.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “You can look now.”
I blinked a few times as my eyes adjusted to the light outside. Soft, deep blue light rippled across the pavement as I stepped out. It was like the ocean itself had spilled onto the ground. When I looked up, the glass dome of the Georgia Aquarium glowed beneath the full moon.
Fontaine handed his keys to the valet and joined me on the sidewalk. Other guests moved toward the entrance, their laughter carrying through the air.
“The aquarium?” I asked.
“They do these night events sometimes,” he said as he stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. “Some of the symphony is performing, there’s an open bar, and you can walk through the aquarium. I know you listen to classical music when you work.”
Him catching that detail surprised me. It was a habit I’d picked up from Sterling—one of the few good ones. “Not you thinking you know me and shit.”
Fontaine grinned. “I know a lot more than you think, Ms. Crawford.”
Inside the usual bright lights of the aquarium were lowered and I could hear the faint sound of strings coming from somewhere deeper inside. Servers milled about with trays of hors d’oeuvres.
“This is beautiful,” I murmured as a jellyfish drifted past in one of the observation tanks.
We moved deeper until we reached the Ocean Voyager exhibit—a full glass tunnel with water stretching above and around us, making it feel like we were underwater. Stingrays glided overhead like ghostly apparitions.
Fontaine nodded toward a small bar near the manta tank. “Red wine?”
I nodded.
He ordered a Malbec for me and a whiskey neat for himself.
“Not too shabby for a first date, huh?” he asked, handing me the glass.
“You did alright,” I chuckled. “A little over the top but I’m not mad at it.”
We kept walking through the aquarium, taking our time until we reached the open space where the orchestra was set up.
Fontaine’s hand stayed in mine, like he was afraid I’d float away.
For a rare moment, I let myself wonder what if I let this just be life?
Figure out a way to get from under the Order’s thumb and just stay with Fontaine.
About fifteen musicians sat in a semicircle under soft lights. They’d just finished a piece and were flipping their sheet music for the next one.
They started playing the opening of Handel’s Keyboard Suite No.4 in D minor, a song I knew well. The melody was graceful but there was this underlying tension with every measure that always made the hairs on my neck rise. It felt like a warning in disguise.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
We turned to see Parker sauntering toward us, champagne in hand and a fake-ass smile painted across her face. Her gold dress caught the light with every step.
I felt my pulse quicken and tightened my grip on Fontaine’s hand.
“Didn’t think I’d run into you two again,” she said, eyes flicking to our joined hands. “Especially not together.”
My teeth ground together as I forced my face to stay neutral.
She’d taken a back seat in my list of priorities since I’d been dealing with the Order, but it was most definitely still up with her.
I didn’t know when, but she’d be seeing me for her betrayal—fucking Fontaine when she knew our history and exactly what he meant to me.
“What do you want, Parker?” Fontaine asked flatly. He looked at her like she was nothing more than an annoyance, though I caught the wariness behind his eyes.
“What, I can’t say hi?” she giggled. “Relax. You were always too serious for your own good.” She turned her attention to me. “And you, Nai—how’ve you been since your dad passed? I’m surprised you’re still in the city. I heard you got released from the Agency.”
“You lucky I’m all dressed up,” I hissed. “‘Cause I still owe you an ass whuppin’.”
Her smile never faltered. “Like I already told you—time and place, Nairobi. Say when.”
“That’s enough.” Fontaine moved to step between us. “Enjoy your night, Parker.”
She ignored him as she adjusted her purse strap. “I’m happy for y’all, really. It’s nice that you two figured things out. Especially with Nairobi’s little…situation. That would’ve been a deal breaker for a lot of men.”
“What situation?” he asked, brow furrowing.
Parker’s mouth twitched like she was fighting back a laugh. “Oh! You haven’t told him?”
I didn’t answer. The music swelled until it merged with the sound of blood rushing in my ears.
“Ah,” she said softly. “Guess not.”
“Don’t,” I warned.
She sipped her drink and leaned toward Fontaine. “I mean, y’all look serious now—very boo’d up. I just assumed it would’ve come up.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You know she can’t have kids, right?”
The orchestra kept playing, but now it sounded hollow. All I could hear was that voice in my head telling me to drop her where she stood.
Fontaine tensed, glancing from me to her, like he needed to confirm what he’d just heard.
I held his gaze, swallowing down the bile rising in my throat.
Parker pressed a hand to her mouth in mock surprise. “Whoops. Cat’s out the bag.” She smiled smugly. “You two have a lovely evening.”
She gave us a finger wave and turned.
My hand closed around her wrist before I realized what I was doing.
I yanked her back hard enough that her drink sloshed out of her glass.
I pulled her close, my grip tightening until I felt the bones shift under my fingers.
That stupid smile finally cracked, and I saw the flash of fear she tried to swallow.
“You think you can break me?” I said, low enough that only she could hear. “Be very grateful you’re surrounded by all these people, because next time you see me it’ll be with a gun pressed against your head. That’s a promise.”
I let her go and threw my drink in her face.
The red wine splashed across her gold dress and dripped down her chin. She stood there, frozen, mouth open, champagne still in her other hand. A few people nearby turned to look, murmurs rippling through the crowd, but I didn’t give a fuck.
I set the empty glass down on the nearest surface, wiped my hand on my dress, and took Fontaine’s hand.
“We’re leaving,” I said quietly.
I didn’t realize I was shaking until we were outside and the cool night air hit my face.
The drive back to my place was quiet. Fontaine hadn’t even bothered to turn on the radio.
Atlanta’s skyline flickered across the windshield as we cruised down the interstate.
I occasionally glanced at him from my periphery—his expression was steely, one hand on the wheel, jaw set, staring straight ahead.
I kept taking deep breaths, but my heart kept beating like it was trying to punch through my ribs. Parker’s words and that smug look on her face replayed on an endless loop in my head. Yeah, I was definitely gonna kill that bitch.
When we pulled up to my building, Fontaine parked and cut the engine but didn’t move.
“You coming up?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
The elevator ride up was thick with silence.
I led the way to my condo, tossing my keys on the console by the door, not bothering to take off my coat. Fontaine stopped just inside the doorway, bracing himself like he didn’t know what was coming next.
“Nai—”
“I’m not ashamed,” I said, cutting him off.
He reared back a bit.
“I had the procedure done years ago. Nobody forced me.” I lifted my chin.
“Women in my line of work can’t afford surprises.
And nobody was going to use a child against me and I wasn’t bringing a child into the kind of dysfunction I grew up in.
That cycle needed to end with me. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think we’d get here,” I said, my voice dropping. “But I don’t regret it.”
He crossed the room until he was standing in front of me.
“I wasn’t gonna ask you to explain,” he said. “I appreciate that you did, but she had no right to take the option to tell me away from you.”
“Do you still want to be with me?” I asked nervously.
“You think a stipulation for us to be together is a child?” he asked. “I’m with you because you’re it for me. I just want to create a life with you. Doesn’t matter if there’s a kid or not.”
“Fontaine…” I started, but he shook his head.
“I know what kind of woman you are,” he said. “You’ve done shit, seen shit, made choices that would break the average person. But that’s part of what I love about you. You look me in the face and own your choices.”