Prologue #4
I wasn’t easily swayed. We reached the table and before I had a seat, I turned Brittany’s body toward mine with a single hand to her shoulder. I entered her personal space, wanting to make sure she heard every word that came from my mouth.
“The next time you decide to suck dick until your nose is snotty and your cheeks are stained with tears, make sure it’s for a man who would turn the city red behind you. Brandon isn’t that man. You’re a pretty girl.
“And, from what I have discovered, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders–literally and figuratively. He will run his play when he leaves the restroom, just in case this date doesn’t work in his favor. Just for you, love, I will make sure it ends on a shitty note. But, not before I eat.
“Tonight is when you take your power back. I don’t want to find out you were sliding down his dick by sunrise. I’ll be very disappointed in you. Deny him. Confidently. Surely. As a matter of fucking fact. You undersand?”
“I– uh–”
“I don’t care, Brittany. Do you understand?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. And, congratulations on your nursing degree. Expect a gift at your door by the end of the week for your accomplishments, including regaining the upper hand. Never give that to a man again. Not even the pastor at your church.”
Her head was still lifting and falling. She was picking up everything I was putting down.
“How’d you know?”
“Know what?”
“About Brandon and I?”
“There’s not much I don’t know. Enjoy your night.”
“Uh… you too. And, thank you.”
“The deed isn’t done. Thank me once you’ve managed to make it through the night without giving into his advances.”
“How?”
“How what, Brittany?”
“How will I thank you?”
“By finding someone worthy of your time. You’ll be around incredible suitors between those hospital walls. Take your pick. Goodnight.”
“Okay, but I didn’t get your name.”
“I didn’t give it to you.”
“I–”
“Goodnight,” I finalized.
“Goodnight.”
With her tail tucked behind her, she took off in the other direction. I shook my head as I released a sigh.
She’s definitely going to fuck him tonight. I thought. Hopefully I’m wrong.
I settled with my own company as I waited for the inevitable. Brandon’s return. He wasn’t obligated to me as I wasn’t obligated to him. Whoever and whatever he wanted to do or pursue he could and vice versa.
The respect he showed during his quest was most important to me. Hadn’t I known his history in lengths, I would be clueless at the moment, and that’s exactly how I planned to move throughout the rest of the night. Until it was my turn, at least.
“Sorry about that,” he apologized as he approached the table.
I shrugged with a smile, admiring his handsome features. Brandon was far from slim, yet I doubted there was a crumb of fat lingering on his body. He visited the gym as often as he visited the restroom. His results were staggering.
Bulging arms.
Wide back.
Chiseled midsection.
Thick thighs.
It was all covered in dark chocolate that I would like to assume tasted as well as it looked. I wasn’t sure I’d ever find out, but I was certain Brittany could attest to the facts if I inquired.
“There was a little line forming or whatever. Had to wait that out.”
Brandon lied straight through his teeth. Still, I leaned in closer, placing my elbows on the table and bringing my shoulders inward. Rhea would have a fit if she saw me.
“It’s fine. Have you been here before?”
“Yeah,” he responded with a nod.
“Good, I was hoping you could tell me about the menu and where to start. I feel so lost. There are so many options.”
I hadn’t opened the menu tonight because I knew it by heart. I knew every starter, salad, soup, steak, side, and drink on it. I’d tried almost everything.
“You have to go with the shrimp for your starter. It’s a given.”
“Then that’s where I’ll start. And, have a French Tart.”
I split the menu open and casually scrolled the papers bound in a leather case. It was to do nothing more than keep my eyes and hands busy. Nothing had changed since my last visit with Range five weeks prior–other than the hostess at the podium.
“So, the lovely Kimberly finally carved out some time in her day to entertain me.”
I shook my head as I closed the menu, giving Brandon my undivided attention.
“I’m no circus act. I don’t strive to entertain. I prefer chasing enjoyment.”
“Then you’re in luck. I’m going to make sure you enjoy our time together.”
“Good evening, ma’am. Sir. Can I get you two started with some water? Tap or house? We also have sparkling.”
“I’ll take house,” I answered the question of our waitress.
“And for you, sir?”
“I’ll take the same.”
“Alright, any starters? Champagne? Fou–”
“I’ll have a French Tart.”
“I’ll have tequila. Your finest reposado. Chilled. And, uh– two orders of your volcanic shrimp.”
“Anything else?”
“Nah. That’ll be it for now.”
The waitress turned to leave, gracing me with her gracious backside. Her brown skin and natural curls were already the closest things to perfection. Knowing she had a body to match her light spirit and fluffy hair forced my head up and then down.
She’s easy on the eyes, but I hope she’s hard on the men. They deserve it.
“She’s beautiful,” I said, barely above a whisper.
Still, Brandon heard me. He snapped his neck in my direction.
“Hm?”
I nodded toward the waitress as I reopened my menu.
“Our waitress. She’s beautiful.”
“Yeah. She is.”
Her beauty had led his eyes and head in the opposite direction. I didn’t blame him. My position gave me the upper hand. I didn’t have to maneuver in my seat to make sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me.
“I don’t get that often,” he sniggered.
“Get what?”
“A woman complimenting another woman. Usually it’s claws out the moment a woman sees another beautiful woman.”
“I hate to break the news, Brandon, but it seems as if you attract jealous women.”
“I won’t deny it.” He chuckled, flashing his pearly white, surgically enhanced teeth. “They can be a bit jealous.”
“From the sound of it, you find out later than sooner.”
“That, too, is true.”
“All of them?”
“All of the ones I’m truly interested in. The others, I don’t care enough to tell.”
“Sounds like you have a type.” I chuckled.
“Maybe so. I see now that you’re different.”
“Maybe.” I lied. He was accurate. I was unlike anyone he’d encountered, unless he’d bumped into a Childers other than me.
“Nah. I, for sho, ain’t met nobody like you.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“You should, because that’s exactly what it is and that’s exactly why I’ve been patient. Waiting you out, hoping to wear you down until you agreed to a date with me.”
“Now that I’m here–”
“I’m hoping this isn’t the last date. I’m hoping you enjoy my company. I’m hoping tonight goes well enough for you to start picking up the phone when you know a nigga on the other end of it.”
My heart fluttered with anticipation, waiting for the words to fall from his lips one after the other. I was genuinely smitten by people who could hold a conversation. Good conversationalists could hold my attention for hours. Nothing more was required of Brandon tonight.
If he could capture my attention with his words, there would be no trouble on my part. It didn’t mean I’d answer the phone when he called or agree to a second date. It meant we’d get through this one just fine and see what the future held.
“I’m going to enjoy the night, Brandon. And, so will you.”
“No doubt about it. I’m already having the time of my fucking life.” He laughed, forcing me to do the same.
His smile was contagious, and so was his laughter. I rolled my eyes upward, wishing I could admit to hating everything about him like I did most men. But, I didn’t. If nothing else, I knew Brandon was decent company. The rest was still up for debate.
“A French Tart and a chilled tequila.”
Our drinks were set before us. Instantly, I began wishing I’d chosen a glass of champagne instead. Though I loved a good mixed drink, it was champagne that allowed me to sip more slowly and not overly indulge. Martinis were tasty. Champagne wasn’t.
“And, our house water.”
“Your name–” I asked, peering up at the waitress as she poured water from a glass bottle.
“Amanda. I apologize. I thought I started with that.”
“You didn’t, but I understand. Busy night?”
“Yes. I’m swamped. Can you tell?”
“By the beads of sweat on your forehead and the breathlessness, yes,” I confirmed.
Chuckling, nervously, she continued. “This uniform. I still think short-sleeved collar shirts should be an option.”
She paused, taking a deep breath.
There you go, girl. I encouraged. One more.
As if she could hear me, she inhaled slowly and then exhaled even slower. Amanda then put the water on the tray beside her.
“Maybe it was your beauty,” she stated.
“Excuse me?” I asked, unsure of what she was pairing it with.
“Maybe it was your beauty that took me by storm,” she snickered, “Had me forgetting my lines and things. I feel awful for walking away without leaving you with my name.”
“I could say the same about you,” I explained, “I was telling my date that you’re gorgeous.”
“Thank you.”
She pulled out her notepad and pen. She pulled in another breath and then exhaled.
“Now, do we know what we’re having, or do we need more time?”
“She’s been studying the menu since we got here, so I’ll keep her ideal entree in my head. Save it for next time. Maybe she has something she’s decided on.”
I shook my head, staring at Brandon.
“I don’t. Please– do the honors.”
I watched quietly as he took the lead, placing an order for us both.
The remainder of our time at dinner was more of the same.
I sat back and allowed Brandon to manage the conversation as well as everything else around us.
I was interested in his leadership skills as I was with any other man I sat across the table from.
I was born into a family full of women. We had two Kings. Both demonstrated how a leader operated, thought, handled partnerships, analyzed situations, and made connections.