Chapter Six
CHAPTER SIX
Receive One’s Just Desserts
P otente Restaurant was a local Italian restaurant known for swanky vibes and fresh ingredients. Genesis had been there with a few of her girlfriends on New Year’s Eve, several years ago. It had been an evening to remember.
She removed her sunglasses from the top of her head and slid them into her purse while the valet pulled away in her white Jeep Wrangler. Roman had offered to pick her up, but she’d insisted on meeting him there instead. She’d learned the hard way, from all her dating experiences, that if things go left, you should always have your own way home on a first date, so that your night ends right. She’d stuck by that rule for many years, as it served her well.
As the large restaurant front door was opened for her by an elegantly dressed compere, a cool breeze of culinary-infused air drew quickly balmy, bathing her in a warm, aromatic, mouth-watering welcome. She was greeted by a male employee who had a particularly shiny head of thick light blond hair as she made her way to the hostess booth.
Hearty chatter from patrons dressed in mainly business attire echoed throughout the establishment. She’d decided upon a fitted gray skirt that hit right above the knee, a navy-blue chiffon blouse with pearl buttons, and matching navy heels and clutch with a pearl clasp. She hadn’t been out on the town in a few months due to a hectic work schedule and falling into a Netflix and chill solo-zone hiatus—completely self-imposed. She admitted to herself that when it came to these things, she was a little rusty, but as she passed her reflection while being escorted by a different host to Roman’s table, she gave herself a wink. Not bad.
Then she saw him.
There, sitting at the table, was a tall, broad shouldered man with deep dimples, a Superman cleft chin, short, black facial hair, thick dark brows and lashes, a jawline so chiseled it looked to be etched out of concrete, and lustrous ebony hair. Roman grasped a drinks menu with both hands, a few of the fingers jeweled with gold bands adorned with diamonds.
Then, it seemed he sensed her presence…
He slowly lowered the menu, set it on the table, and rose to his full, lofty height. Wearing a sexy, genuine smile, he unbuttoned his black suit jacket.
“Mr. Wilde, your guest has arrived,” the waiter announced as he went to pull out Genesis’ chair.
“Yes, I see… I’ve got it from here, Paul.”
“Certainly.” The waiter bowed then walked away, leaving Roman helping her into the chair.
“Thank you.” She sat down, shuddering when she caught the scent of his lovely cologne, and his fingertips grazed her left shoulder.
He returned to his seat and when he leaned slightly forward, his magnificent tawny eyes caught the light. He reached for her hand and caressed her fingers, pulling back before it fully registered that she’d been touched in such a respectful yet flirty way.
“You look beautiful tonight, Genesis. You’re so pretty, regardless of what you wear, or how you do your hair. Speakin’ of hair, are those the Goddess braids? You never sent a picture. Either way, nice!”
“Thank you. Yes, these are the Goddess braids.” She flipped them over one shoulder and glanced around the restaurant before resting her sights on him once more. “You look quite nice, too.”
Roman was sporting a cream shirt, the first two buttons undone. He wore a dark black sports jacket, and not one strand of his hair was out of place.
“Speakin’ of my hair, first, I want to thank you again for sending that CashApp.”
“You’re welcome.”
“But I wanted to address this in person. Let’s get something straight.”
“Uh oh! This sounds serious!” He smirked while waving his hands around.
“Listen to me.” She reached across the table and yanked his wrist as soon as he placed his hands down. His eyes widened ever so slightly, but that devilish grin on his face remained. “I know you meant well. I know that to you, it was a kind gesture. I get it. That’s probably how you show you care, but please don’t send me money unless I ask for it, and there is no chance in hell that I will be askin’ you for it, at least not at this stage in our barely existent relationship.”
“Mmmm, I see. Independent woman?”
“That’s not it at all. I am independent, but that’s not the reason why I don’t want you to give me money. The reason is because I don’t know you like that.”
“I didn’t realize that we had to know people well before helping them out. I better alert all the folks who give love offerings then. STOP! Throw that check away. You don’t know that bastard!” He chortled.
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. You just want to be sarcastic. I don’t want to take your money because it sends the wrong message. You could want somethin’ in return, something I’m not willing to give, or you may think that this is a way to build trust. It’s not. I can’t be bought. Five hundred dollars is a lot of money to give to someone you don’t know all that well, and then, you offered more.”
“It’s not a lot to me but go on.” He sucked his teeth and looked about as if only half-listening.
“I replied to say thanks as a courtesy, and now I’m sending the money right back to you. I didn’t want to do that earlier without a face-to-face explanation.” She grabbed her phone from her purse and went into the app to reject the deposit and give it back to Roman Wilde.
She tumbled back into her seat and picked up the wine menu. Her nerves slightly raw.
He clasped his hands, and his smile waned. “Is that it?”
“About the money? Yes.”
“I want to respond to what you said, and then discuss something else with you.”
“I imagined you would.” She scanned the menu, full of choices.
“You made it clear when I suggested you be a dentist that money wasn’t everything to you, and it didn’t equate to happiness. I have a great memory, and an even greater shit-spottin’ detector regarding a person’s character. The reason being is that when you’re constantly tryna get over on someone, just to survive, you learn things about people, and you learn things fast.”
“Hustler.”
“Yes, I am. To my core. I knew that you meant what you said about bein’ a dentist. It’s not your calling. You set me straight. I could tell you were being sincere, and not just talkin’ to be talkin’. You set me straight, and I respected your feelings. Me sendin’ you money to get your hair done was personal to me.”
“How could it be personal to you, when it was concernin’ my hair?” She pointed to her tresses as she scrutinized him.
“When I was in elementary school, I had this babysitter. Krystal.” He flopped back in his seat, legs akimbo and a strange expression on his face. “A girl who lived down the way. ’Bout nine or ten years older than me. Young Black woman. My mama would hire her sometimes when she had to work late and had no idea where in the hell my father was, what abandoned house he was shootin’ up in, what whore he was wining and dining with her money, or what backyard he’d passed out in from being good and liquored up.” A lump formed in her stomach, and it wasn’t the hungry kind. The man was dumping on her, but somehow, some way, she wanted to hear every word that came out of his crooked mouth. “Krystal was payin’ her way through beauty school. Me and my brothers were bad as hell and would give her a hard time.” He chuckled. “She was nice to us anyway.
“She cooked for us, played card games, and even let us stay up later than we were supposed to every now and again. Sometimes she’d bring this beauty parlor mannequin head with her, and as soon as we’d fall asleep, she’d get to braidin’ and stylin’ on it in the living room while she watched television. A bunch of hot irons, jars of grease and gel, and hair stuff all over the place.”
“How’d you know that was what she was doing if you were asleep?”
“…That’s a silly question. You know my bad ass wasn’t asleep. I was standin’ in my underoos, bein’ real quiet, watching the television. They showed the uncut music videos late at night, and I got to see titties, so I was motivated to fight sleep.”
Genesis scoffed, rolled her eyes, then laughed.
“So anyway, I asked Krystal one day, ‘Why do you wanna do hair?’ It seemed like it would be borin’ to a little White boy like me. Hell, all I needed according to my mama was a good shampooing and a little hair gel. Krystal told me she wanted to make women feel special. To feel good about themselves. She said she loved doing hair because it was creative, but even more than that, she was addicted to how happy women became when she’d do their hair, especially Black women. She said they’d look in the mirror when she was all done, and start smilin’ real big, or sometimes even cryin’ because they never knew they could look like that. I wanted you to smile just like that. That’s all.” He threw up his hands. “I didn’t pity you, wasn’t doing no charity. I felt like you wanted Goddess braids right then, and would have gotten them if you had the cash on hand, so Goddess braids were what you deserved.
“It ain’t have nothin’ to do with tryna build trust. Tryna buy you. Take advantage of you. Tryna have expectations or hope I could cut a little trim from you after this here dinner.” Her mouth twitched at his words. She’d never heard a White man call a woman’s vagina ‘trim.’ He’s been around Black folk a lot. “If I want sex, Genesis, I make that clear. Not a dime or dollar needs to pass ’tween our fingers. I don’t expect anything from you, ’cept good conversation. Never paid for pussy or conversation a day in my life. I’m blunt and upfront. I’ve never been shy about my desires and needs. I do like giving money to folks, because there was a time when I was literally searchin’ in a garbage can because I hadn’t eaten in days.”
That hard jawline of his clenched. And so did his fist. For a flash, that smile of his turned into a dark line of pain.
“If I wanna take care of you by doin’ a small favor, it’s just because you’re a dope ass human being, and one of my best friend’s sisters. If that’s what’s in my heart, then I’ll do what I want. Genesis, don’t tell me how to spend my money even if it involves you .” He jeered forward, his voice as calm as the sun rising after a peaceful night. “You have the right to not accept it. I can’t make you take it, but you can’t tell me how to feel about what I did, and you damn sure can’t try to psychoanalyze me and tell me why I did it. Every assumption you made about the reason I did what I did, was wrong. You coulda just asked me. All of these theories you conjured up could have been avoided.”
She lowered her gaze and nodded.
“I suppose you’re right. I could have just asked you, but let’s be honest—I didn’t expect to get a real answer, Roman. I just knew I didn’t want you to do that, but I also didn’t want to be harsh about it, either. Just wanted to make myself clear.”
“Fair enough. You’ve made it Krystal, with a ‘K’, clear. Don’t run my pockets, and I won’t tell you what career you should go into, especially based on how much money I think you could make. You’re talented and smart, but in retrospect, I could have kept that comment I made at the dentist office about your profession to myself.”
“So, even though I told you to not send me any money, are you sayin’ that you may do it again, knowing that I will send it back?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. It depends on what I think you need, if we’re friends by then, still datin’, or something else is going on altogether.” He paused and glanced towards the back of the restaurant. He’d done that a couple of times, but every time she followed his line of sight, she didn’t see anything or anyone particularly exciting. “A lot of factors to consider. I’d rather send it, and you not want it, than you need it, keep quiet about that need, and I not send it. Think of the money I may or may not send you like a tampon.”
“Huh? What in the world are you talking about?”
“You hate that you may need me, but you’re damn glad I’m there when you do.”
He could’ve just used the analogy of a life vest or something like that, but no, he had to turn this into something silly.
He took a deep breath. Their eyes burrowed into each other’s souls. And then, they both smiled. “Their house wine is usually the best deal on Saturday nights, but you choose whatever you wish.”
“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. You’re hilarious, Roman. Stubborn. Interesting, too.” She leaned back in her seat as an attendant approached and filled their glasses with water from a steel pitcher.
“So I’ve been told. Before we begin orderin’, I need to tell you something.”
“Yeah, you mentioned earlier that there were two things you wanted to say. What’s the second one?” She reached for her phone in her purse once again, this time turning it off.
“Tony is pissed about us being on this date. He told me not to ask you out. After you asked me out instead, I did let him know, and he wasn’t happy about that, either.”
“I know. Oh look, they have blackberry wine here. Royal Oporto is a port.” She tapped the menu with the tip of her finger. “I wouldn’t expect that to be available at a fancy place like this, but it could be a dessert wine, so maybe they—”
“Hold on. You know about him not approvin’ of this?”
“Yes, of course. I told him we were going out. Like you, I don’t bite my tongue, and I wasn’t going to keep it no secret. I just wanted to be open and upfront with him. I explained to him that I thought you were attractive, and I liked your personality. So, I asked you out.” She placed the wine menu down and folded her hands, one on top of the other.
“And I’m sure that went over about as well as a wooden stick in a blender.”
“Pulp fiction smoothie with an extra log. He started going clean off, and I told him to calm down. He started yelling even louder, so I hung up.” She shrugged. “I then woke up to a bunch of text messages, which led me to explaining to him that he could go straight to hell, and if he didn’t have the directions, I’m sure he could Google it, since he found directions into my business just fine. I also let him know that if hell wasn’t to his liking, he could go anywhere he wanted to, except for in my personal choices. Friend or no friend of his, this is my decision, not his. Shit, I don’t like his wife, but I keep it cute.”
“Keep it cute?”
“I don’t make any waves. Penny doesn’t know I think she’s about as shallow as a beer cap used as a swimming pool.”
Roman nodded, then burst out laughing.
“Yeah… she’s somethin’. If Tony is happy though, I stay out of it.”
“Agreed. After I told him that, he simmered down and got to apologizin’. I need to check my horoscope, something I rarely do, but maybe I should because this week has been irritating as all get out. I’m hungry, Roman.” She sighed, and then watched a waiter walk past with a basket of assorted breads. “Now trust and believe, I will let you pay for this meal, if you want, even though I’m the one that asked you out.”
“Oh, I’m definitely taking care of the bill. Anyway, I was gonna beat you to the punch, but your brother applied pressure. The chemistry you believed was between us was real. I kept my mouth shut as a favor to him. I regretted makin’ that promise soon as you popped into the exam room at your place of business. I wanted to sop you up.” He winked, making her feel warm all over.
“Oh? You couldn’t resist a lady like me in scrubs? Too sexy to turn down?” She giggled. “Where’s our bread?” She started looking all around. “You know what? I haven’t had salmon in a long time. How is the salmon here?” She went on and on, bouncing from topic to topic, but he appeared thoroughly entertained.
Roman placed both hands on the table, then burst out laughing.
“You’re somethin’ special, Genesis. I think I like you.”
She grinned. “I think I like you, too.”
Roman kept his eyes on her, snapped his fingers, and within seconds someone was placing bread in a rattan basket at their table. It was like he ran the place.
It wasn’t long before they were diving into platters of food, sharing this and that. She had no idea how much stuff they’d ordered, but it was a lot. The table was full of remnants of what once was. Two lobster tails lay barren and picked to death, butter drippings all along the plate. Genesis was on her second glass of wine, and made certain, regardless of how good it was, to make it the last. After all, she was driving herself home. They talked about everything, from baseball to the latest movies, dental practices, and investments.
“…And then he said her name was Peg.”
Genesis burst out laughing.
“That’s not a politically correct joke. That was funny!” She felt good all over… a man who could make her laugh. An intelligent man. A man with swag and the gift of gab. A man who made her panties wetter than a slip and slide. Something must be wrong with him, ’cause ain’t no way. He doesn’t have any kids, either, so there’s no baby mama drama. His face is gorgeous. His body is wearin’ that damn suit. He smells absolutely delicious. He’s financially literate, and stable. Hell, he works for Goldman Sachs. Can’t get more financially literate than that. Has his own place and from the looks of things, is romantic. This is too good to be true. If it’s too good to be true though, it probably is. There’s a catch. There must be a catch.
“So, when was the last time you were in a relationship?” he asked, throwing her off guard.
“I didn’t expect to discuss anything like that.”
“And what did we just say about expectations?”
“Yup. You’re right. My words came back to bite me, huh?”
“I’m not trying to use your words against you—just, you know,” he shrugged, “tryna find out more about you. The past is a good way to see how far someone has come.”
“Well, aren’t you a philosopher? My last relationship was about a year and a half ago. He is a professional singer. He does opening acts for a lot of big names. Great guy with a lovely voice.”
“Okay, so what happened?”
“He wasn’t cheating or anything like that. We just didn’t mesh well. Weren’t on the same page. Nice guy, just not for me. We didn’t have a lot of the same interests, either.”
“And what were some of your interests that clashed with his?”
“I like to go out and do things with friends and family. He needs big entourages, lights, and cameras. I like quiet times, just the two of us. He could barely stand times like that. Always had to be on the go. He was just always performing in some way,” she said. “I don’t like always feeling ‘on.’ It felt like I had to perform sometimes, too. Show him in a good light. That’s not me. I just wanted to be myself.” He nodded in understanding. “I wanted a true legal commitment; he saw marriage as only a piece of paper. Said he was doing everything for me that a husband would, and I couldn’t disagree. But I wanted that shit in writing. When I look back on it, it was ridiculous. It was like I just had something to prove. I wouldn’t have been happy married to that man. We weren’t in sync. Now? I don’t care.” She shrugged.
“You don’t care about ever gettin’ married?”
“It’s not that, but marriage is not a badge of honor, at least not like how it used to be. You get hitched to the wrong person, and your life could be ruined. Married women have shorter lifespans. You didn’t ask for all that information, but I feel like this: if it’s meant to be, it will be. If a relationship leads to marriage, let it happen organically. I am not asking for anythin’ like that from anyone ever again, because I like the freedom of knowing that I can jump ship if things start getting rough and rocky, and I want to be chosen. Not the one who begged, pleaded, or gave ultimatums. I used to be a long hauler. Now? You must be worth the long haul, and if I have to ask you for it, then you’re definitely not the one. You only have to show me one time that you don’t wanna be bothered with me. I won’t ask no questions, and you won’t have to tell me no lies.”
She felt as if she may be talking too much, even if he seemed to be hooked on her words. He barely blinked as she was explaining this past relationship . What inferences was he making? What conclusions was he drawing?
Soon, they were splitting dessert—a large, decadent slice of gourmet chocolate mousse cake. Two silver spoons slid past one another in a valley of dark, velvety brown pureness. She liked how he licked his lips after he swallowed. In fact, she liked how he chewed, as if he was really enjoying it, but it wasn’t obnoxious or loud.
“How about you?” She smiled as she slipped her spoon into a dollop of raspberry sauce.
“How about me as far as what?” He placed his spoon down and grabbed his glass of water.
“Last relationship?”
“Well, it depends on what you call a relationship. If you mean someone I was seeing exclusively, then that didn’t happen often.”
“That’s what I mean.” She took a spoonful of the vanilla ice-cream.
“It’s been a long while. Look, Genesis, I don’t know what Tony told you, but most of it is probably accurate. I’m not going to lie or try to pretend when the truth is enough. I’m not afraid of commitment, I just don’t do it often. Like you, I enjoy my freedom, but I’m not opposed to gettin’ hitched one day. I don’t see it as some chore or a prize for the right girl. I see it as something that I need to be certain about. Sometimes, I get bored. I can look at spreadsheets with numbers and pie charts on them all damn day without any issue, but when it comes to women, well, it’s more complicated. Women are harder than math. That both excites and scares me.”
“Did you just come to that realization sittin’ right here, right now with me?”
He hesitated for a moment, then stretched his arm along the back of his chair. “I believe that I did.”
She smiled at him and licked her spoon real slow. “My brother told me you were a good guy. Tony said, ‘If you’re ever in a fight, Roman is who you call. If you need someone to help you with your financial portfolio, Roman is your man. If you have a cute sister or sexy cousin, keep him away. He’s a playboy, and he breaks hearts for fun.’ And that’s why he didn’t want us going out. Tony wasn’t no angel, either.” She huffed, her stomach about to burst. She placed her spoon down and crossed her arms. “Dinner never hurt anyone.”
“…Unless it was from Taco Bell.”
She burst out laughing. “Yeah… yeah.” She nodded in agreement. “I had a few close calls with them over the years, too.”
They drew quiet and simmered in the ambiance. Soft lights. Soft music.
“Well, Roman, it’s getting late.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve had a nice evening. A great evening, but I better get goin’.”
“I had a great time with you, too.”
Roman did that arm wave thing he’d done a few times during the evening, and soon he had the bill. She could have sworn she’d seen 4 digits on that notice, but didn’t want to believe her eyes. Had they really eaten that much food? Maybe they had—all of it self-indulgent and heavenly.
“I can help with the bill.”
“You already CashApp’ed me five hundred,” he teased, causing her to laugh. “No, no… this is my treat, Genesis. Like I said, I was going to ask you out anyway.”
It wasn’t long before he had her hand in his and headed outside the restaurant with her. The valet went to retrieve her Jeep Wrangler.
He kept his fingers wrapped around hers, his hand large, warm, strong. She looked at their intertwined fingers. His fingernails were perfectly trimmed. There was a slight roughness to his palms, as if at one point in his life, he’d worked hard with his hands.
“Tony was right about me. I am a dog,” he stated out of the blue, garnering her attention. “I’ve run around on women like I was in a marathon race. I’m a playboy. I love sex, and the illusion of makin’ love. I’ve been in love before though, and I’ve been in hate, too. I have some issues with trust, but people can change. If they want to.”
“You definitely have to want to, and the incentive should be that you’re doing it for you .” Her voice caught in her throat, cracking like firewood. Something inside of her broke for him. It wasn’t that he needed fixing, but he needed permission to mend himself. Some encouragement. He looked into her eyes so deeply that it made her knees damn near buckle. It was just something about this motherfucker. He was smooth. He was sexy as hell. He was stunning. He was funny. He was intense, without being creepy. He was laid back, and yet, on ten, all at once.
“To change, one definitely needs to look inward, and sometimes, a little push helps. Sometimes, the incentive and that little push are also standin’ right in front of us. Hiding in plain sight. A little extra sugar with cherry Goddess braids on top.”
With that, he looked deep into her eyes, and as her Jeep pulled up, he gathered her in his arms and placed a sweet, perfect kiss against her cheek.
The valet got out of the vehicle and attempted to help her into her truck. Once again, Roman took over, shoving the guy out of the way after stuffing a wad of cash in his hand. His arm around hers, he helped her into the driver’s seat. Once she was settled, he leaned against the door. Her heart was thumping in her chest, and for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why.
“Drive safely, Genesis. Give me a call soon, okay?”
“I will, and I will.” She analyzed his face. A look of innocence flashed in his eyes. She leaned forward and placed a peck on his lips. They were oh, so soft. “Thank you for a lovely evening. My contribution of five hundred dollars was well spent.” They both had a good laugh at that. And then, she put the car in drive, and headed out of there…