Chapter 20
Daniel
Seated at the table, I informed the waiter that I would wait for my party to arrive.
I came straight from work, pulled my tie and rolled my sleeves, waiting for her to show.
I know the moment she walks in because that guy moves, letting me know she’s nearby.
She glides between tables in a crisp white linen shirt, the fabric catching golden light from the overhead chandeliers, three buttons undone to reveal the delicate black lace beneath.
Her wide-leg trousers whisper against her ankles with each stride, cinched at the waist with an antique gold belt that catches the light when she moves.
Her box braids, glossy as obsidian, are swept into a high ponytail, wrapped at the base with a silk scarf patterned in stark black and white.
When she finally reaches me, her scents fill my nostril. Down, boy!
“Hi,” I say, getting up to kiss her cheek, which my smart mind says is a bad idea.
“Hi, did you order yet?” she asks.
“No, I was waiting for you,” I say. “I’ll eat whatever you order.”
She smiles. “You want me to decide?”
“I assume you have very good taste.”
Her smile widens. “I do,” she says softly.
The waiter comes over, and I notice he keeps looking at her lace bra. Her head is down, and I shoot him a glare and he turns away.
She places the order and he leaves.
“So, our agreement,” I say.
“Yes, let’s talk about timeline,” she says. “How long could we have the lease?”
’Forever,’ I say inwardly.
“How long do you need?” are the words that come out of my mouth.
“Four to five months, maybe.”
“Five, it is then, and neither of us can break the agreement before that time.”
I have five months to quench my obsession with her. The waiter brings the drink. She takes a sip.
“What happens if one party breaks it?”
“The other party can enforce whatever reasonable breach they see fit.”
“Okay, as long as it’s reasonable, right?” I nod. “So, I will be your standby date, and you will be my standby date and my”—she airs quote—“live in boyfriend.”
My heart is pounding. “Agreed. Anything else?” I ask as the waiter brings our food, which was quite fast. She ordered a variety of meat with salads, hummus, pita bread and rice. Everything looks good. I nod to the waiter in approval.
“What happens when you meet someone you want to go on a date with or vice versa? I don’t want to block your chances,” she says as I chuckle.
“My chances?” She really can’t be serious that she doesn’t see how beautiful she is and the only chance I want is with her.
“Once I nip my dad’s usual set up, there won’t be that many guys.
I’m usually busy and with this program, I will be busier.
Besides, most guys run once I say sickle cell.
” Good, they should. “You are an eligible bachelor and I’m sure most ladies want your attention,” she says with a sheepish smile. Only, I have attention for you.
“Remember you are my live-in girlfriend, so those ladies can stay away.”
“I know, how about you give me heads up when you meet someone?” I nod. I already did.
“What’s the rent cost?”
“It’s free, you are doing me a favor.”
“I can’t live with you and pay nothing.” I volley.
“Then you can’t be my roommate.” Her tone was firm.
I don’t like that thought, but I’m not about to lose the opportunity of getting close to her. “Whatever makes you comfortable is fine.”
“Okay.”
I take a long breath, “Anything else?”
She shakes her head. We eat and talk about her program; she’s looking through bids for instruments and good teachers.
I find myself telling her about why I became a lawyer and few memorable cases that feel good to win.
I also detail how often I travel for work and how demanding my work can sometimes be.
I like my coffee black without sugar but lots of cream. Her brow rises at that.
Her phone rings.
“Sorry, it’s my dad,” she says before answering.
“Hello, daddy,” she says, smiling. I sit back and watch her talking to her dad and she starts to speak Yoruba.
I know that’s the language because of Dele and Anne.
They speak it. She smiles and laughs a few times and I know right there that her smile has left a permanent imprint on my heart. She hangs up and turns to me.
“Sorry about that, I’m going to London at the end of the week for my dad’s birthday, and he still thinks he has to detail my trip.” All I hear is she will be gone for a while and my heart races at the possible thought of her not coming back.
“For how long?” I ask, managing to control my tone.
“Six days. You can move in while I’m gone, if we sign the agreement before I leave.”
“It will be ready tomorrow.”
“You will come back, right?” I ask.
“I better, since I’m signing this agreement with you,” she jokes.
“So, is your dad arranging your travel plans?”
She nods.
“Yes, Dad likes to do it. It makes him feel I’m still his little girl.”
I smile
“Daddy’s little girl, uh?” I tease.
“Yep, I’m unapologetically daddy’s little princess,” she says.
“Okay, princess.”
She smiles. We finish eating and I pay the bills. I don’t want to leave. I want to keep talking to her.
“I’m going to walk for a few minutes. I think I ate too much,” she says, rubbing her stomach as we walk outside.
“How about I walk with you?”
“Not in those shoes,” she says, staring at my polished leather dress shoes. “I walk a lot, and I don’t want to be the reason the eligible bachelor has aching feet.” She teases.
I laugh.
“I’m sure we can get a new pair somewhere.”
“You don’t have to come with me.”“I want to,” I say. I want to be with her as much as I possibly can.
“Okay. There’s a shoe store about a block away; we can get you a comfortable pair.”
“Lead the way,” I say. I text Zack that I’m walking and will be back. We walk and talk. When we get to the store, she steps in, we are greeted by a jovial guy. “How can I help you, beautiful?” he says with a wide grin.
“I’m the one that needs help,” I sternly say behind her.
“Sure, what do you need?” he says, his grin is wiped.
“Anything comfortable for long distance walking.”
“Over here,” he says. We look through and I pick one that’s an easy fit. I pay for it, and we leave with my Tom Ford patent leather in the box. I take the bag and follow her lead. We keep talking and I spend most of the time watching her breezy laughs. I must admit, I enjoy watching her.
We make a stop for ice cream on the way, and I find out how much of a daddy’s girl she is when she starts to talk about how she misses going for ice cream with her dad. She starts to scoop the non-existent last drops of ice cream in the cup.
“We can always get more, Princess,” I say.
Her brows lift. “Is my name now Princess?”
“Pretty much.”
She smiles and I smile back.
We leave the ice cream shop and step back onto the street.
“Can I ask why you don’t drive in the rain?” I notice her face goes stoic. “I’m going to be your roommate and fake boyfriend,” I say to ease whatever is going on in her head because her pace has slowed.
She stops walking and turns to me. “When I was twelve, my mom and I were returning from a birthday party outside London. It was raining heavily with thunder and lightning. We got in an accident when lightning struck a tree that fell.” Her voice chokes, I remain quiet.
“We were stuck for a while. My mom’s legs were trapped, and I was in a lot of pain from the accident and the cold.
It was a long time before we were found.
The thunder and lightning became something I feared after that.
I was in a coma for a few weeks and hospital for months because of my condition.
Everyone says it’s a miracle I survived because I was barely breathing by the time they found us.
” It’s clear, the memory still hunts her.
“Since then, I don’t drive in the rain and live close to where I can walk home with my noise canceling headphones when it rains. The excitement of the program and teaching your niece made me forget my routine the other day.” I see her glassy eyes.
“Anything, I can help with when the weather is that way?” A slight smile curves her lips.
“You need not worry about me. I have my noise canceling headphones, so I don’t hear it, and I just stay in a dark corner.”
“Anything else?” I ask.
“Nope,” she says in finality, but something tells me there’s more, but I leave it for now.
She turns and starts to walk back towards the restaurant, and I follow. I want to ask about her mom but I remain quiet.
“So, awesome Lawyer, what do you do when you are not in court or getting photographed with pretty ladies?” she teases.
“Someone has googled me,” I say.
“Actually, my friend did the digging on you, thirty-seven years old, born in San-Diego, California, works for his father’s firm in New York and only dates blondes” she says.
“Don’t believe everything you read. I don’t only date blondes”
She laughs.
“Players usually say that.” Her voice is velvety. “She had evidential pictures.” exactly why I need you as my date going forward, so all pictures will be just you and I.
“I assure you; I’m not a player.”
She nods but I see the mischief in her eyes.
We get to her car and I’m sad our time has ended. She heads towards her Lexus NX. I follow her once she’s belted and windows down.
“I’ll call you tomorrow with the agreement. Might I ask how old you are?”
“You didn’t google me?”
“I prefer to ask you and not assume everything I read is accurate”
“Twenty- five.”
“And you are okay on the agreement?”
She nods.
“And the second date?” she asks
“I’m looking forward to it.” I say with a sly smile “Maybe when you return from London.” I continue and touch her hand, just slightly. But that was all I needed to feel him move.
She nods and starts her car. I watch her drive off, realizing
Bruce is right, I’m getting bad like Declan and Luke. In the car, I text Patrick, my PA.
Me: Get me the best noise cancelling headphones
Pat: Any color preference?
I pause, wishing I knew what color she would like.
Me: Black is fine for now.