Chapter 14 Quade
I stared at Noa from across the table as she looked around the candlelit restaurant like a deer caught in headlights.
I knew she was about to say something about the upscale restaurant I had taken her to, but I couldn’t resist. Noa deserved everything good, if not from all she’d been through, then from how hard she’d worked on the pieces she made for the art show.
Tonight was special. She was special, and I would spend any amount to make sure she knew it.
“What?” I asked. “Everything cool?”
“You know,” she said, raising her voice over the smooth jazz that played in the background, “we could’ve just hit a burger joint. I didn’t need all this.”
“What I look like takin’ you to a burger joint in that dress? Nah, this is a special occasion. You can get a burger here.” I smirked and sat back in my seat, arms relaxed, watching her like she was the only one in the room, the same way I had all night.
“How’d you even get reservations here? This place is always booked.” She opened the menu and started looking through it. I watched as she flipped to the burger section, and a smile crossed my face.
“I like to plan ahead.” I left out the part where I made the call on the way over here when I stopped at the gas station.
I’d learned back when I was Quae Lo that money and the right swagger could get you in practically anywhere.
I wasn’t balling, but I’d been saving. Ron was barely taking fifty dollars a check to cover the unaccounted-for expenses on Noa’s repairs.
My car was paid for, and besides the money I threw to Jess for staying there, I didn’t have too many more expenses.
I had more than enough to splurge on Noa tonight, and any other night she’d let me.
“Let me find out you’ve been plotting on me, Mr. JaQuade.” She smiled.
“I might have plotted a little…”
“Is that right?” She tilted her head, smiling at me, a flicker of something in her eyes I couldn’t place. “You’re treading a thin line. Making plans and reservations is giving this is a date, Quade.”
“Yeah.”
She wasn’t expecting me to say that. Her face showed a ton of emotions all at once before a confused, “Huh?” fell from her lips.
“This is a date, Noa. As long as you want it to be.” There it was…
the elephant in the room that we’d both been tiptoeing around.
Somewhere between leaving the house and the art gallery, I’d decided I liked Noa.
Shit, I’d been gone off her fine ass since day one, and the more I watched her tonight, the less I cared about timing or caution.
I wasn’t a bum ass nigga. I was putting my life back together, standing ten toes down about mine.
It had never scared me to approach any woman before, so there was no point in starting now.
“You want to date a woman confined to a wheelchair?” She laughed, but I didn’t see anything funny.
“Your chair doesn’t bother me, Noa. You the baddest thing in this room. Shit, any room you step in.”
Her mouth opened and closed like she didn’t know what to say as the server arrived with water and dinner rolls before she could respond, but her eyes never left mine. That hesitation about her illness, I’d buried it weeks ago. If that may have been bogus for wanting her, then so be it.
“Is it a problem that I want to date you, beautiful?” I asked, voice low.
“Not at all.” She shook her head slowly.
“I just… come with a lot, Quade. My body hurts most days. I spend most of my time in bed or at a doctor’s appointment.
I get tired easily, and don’t even get me started on sex.
Some nights, my body just says no, even when every other part of me is saying yes.
Trying to date someone who can’t always keep up can be tiresome.
I just want you to have a full picture of what it’s like dating the sick girl. ”
“You do come with a lot…” I leaned in a little, my eyes burning a hole into her soul.
I’d heard her words, her caution label, and her defense, and the fact that she felt she needed to give me a warning label before dating her didn’t sit right with me.
It made me wonder how many times she’d been told she came with too much.
I didn’t have all the details about her life, but I knew that nothing she had said scared me.
If anything, it made me want to carry it all so she could get some relief.
“I didn’t show up empty-handed either.” I finally spoke.
If she was going to list her shit, I was going to list mine.
“I’m a former rapper turned contractor who is fresh off a seven-year bid.
I signed a million-dollar contract and got locked up before I could even cash the check.
I’m thirty-five years old, and I don’t have my own place.
I’m staying with my sister and her family in the house I bought her with my tour money.
Some days, I feel like a failure, and some days, I’m proud of my journey.
I don’t know what’s next for me. My dream was to be a rapper, and I did that.
Now I’m just trying to figure shit out.” I blew out a deep breath as I bit into a buttery roll.
It actually felt good to lay all my shit out in the open.
“Everybody come with something, beautiful. There are no perfect people.”
Noa didn’t say anything. She just stared at me with the type of stare you give when you’re trying to keep from unraveling.
“You always been so good at that?” she asked.
“Good at what?”
“Saying all the right things. It’s starting to be your pattern.”
I chuckled a little just as the server arrived again, this time holding a pen and pad.
“Are you all ready to order?” he asked, smiling too long at Noa.
“Do you mind if I order for you?” I asked.
“Ooh, that’s real gentleman-like. You’re trying to impress me, huh?”
“Not trying. Just doing.”
“Well, in that case, go ahead. Just no onions or mushrooms.”
“Noted. No onions or mushrooms. Anything else that’s a hard no?”
She shook her head and turned to the waiter, ready to be impressed.
“Alright, we’ll start with the firecracker shrimp and smoked salmon bites for our appetizer. She’ll take the Wagyu truffle burger, cooked to medium, and I’ll take the steak house stack cooked to medium rare.” I rambled off our order with ease and passed the menus back.
“Got it!” he said, squinting at me. “You ever get told you look like that one rapper? Ummm, dang. I forgot his name. The one who used to wear the ski mask.”
I shook my head. People always almost remembered me, and I never felt the need to explain who I used to be. As far as I was concerned, nobody needed to know who I used to be. That version of me was gone, and I wasn’t trying to resurrect him.
“Nah, I ain’t never heard that one,” I replied, and he stared at me like he wasn’t convinced.
“Man, I swear I know your face from somewhere.” He nodded slowly before he left us alone. I wasted no time putting my eyes back on Noa.
“You ever miss it?” she finally asked. “Being Quae Lo, making music, performing all over the world, being on top of the charts?”
“Sometimes.” I shrugged and reached for my glass. “I miss the creating part: being in the booth, making something outta a small idea, putting my story into the music.”
“And the fame?” she asked, tipping her head like she was studying me.
“I used to crave it. Everything they say about the music industry is true. It’s addictive. The fame just takes over your life until it’s damn near unrecognizable. I don’t know if I really miss that. All that shit just seems too loud and too fake now.”
She was quiet again, just sitting there, watching me with those beautiful, brown eyes like she wanted to say more, but I was glad she didn’t. This night wasn’t about my art; it was about hers.
“It was cool seeing you in your element tonight,” I said, changing the subject.
“It felt good,” she admitted. “I forgot what it felt like being in the spotlight for something other than—”
“Lupus? Your chair?” I finished her sentence, and she gave me a tiny nod.
“Yes. Since I’ve been in this chair, it’s all anyone wants to know about. They act like it’s the most exciting thing about me.”
“It ain’t.” I reached under the table and grabbed her hand. “The most exciting things about you are the way you talk about color, about art, the way you get so still when you’re focused, the way you laugh.”
She bit her lip and looked away, like I couldn’t see the redness flushing over her cheeks.
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” She smiled at me, and it was the only look I ever wanted to see on her face.
We carried on, talking about anything and everything and flirting until the server reappeared with our food.
“Enjoy. Let me know if you need anything.” He set our food on the table and then disappeared again. I watched as Noa’s face lit up at the sight of the gourmet burgers that sat in front of us.
“How’d I do?”
“So far, so good.” She lifted the burger, and I watched as she took a bite. Her lips wrapped around the bun slowly, like she knew I was watching her, watching the juices from the burger glisten in the corners of her mouth.
“It’s messy.” She giggled. “But you did well.” She reached for a napkin, but I was already leaning over the table.
“I got you.” I swiped the corners of her mouth with my thumb. “Just good?” I teased.
“It’s sensational.” She took another bite. “You know, if you do one more thoughtful thing tonight, I might let you take me out again.”
I looked at her.
“It’s already planned, sweetheart.”
“Is it?” Her eyes widened.
“Yep.”
“You always this smooth and calculating?”
“Nah. This is all for you.”
We locked eyes, and for a second, I forgot where we were. I forgot there were other people in the restaurant. It was just her—just us.