10. Nolani #2
“That your man?”
Once, the question might’ve required thought.
Today, it didn’t.
“Yes.”
She smiled. “Thought so.”
“What gave me away?”
“Baby, he looking over here like somebody might try to take you home.”
I laughed. “He’s dramatic.”
“They all dramatic when they like you right.”
She accepted her cup and walked away.
I looked toward the field one more time.
My man.
The words fit easily now.
Around noon, the line stretched past the neighboring candle booth when a male voice entered beside us.
“Which one of y’all responsible for making this whole row smell better than the barbecue section?”
Nyla didn’t look up. “Compliments don’t move you to the front.”
“I wasn’t trying to skip.”
“Then congratulations on respecting democracy.”
I glanced over.
Tall. Broad through the shoulders. Close beard. Langston polo. Whistle looped around two fingers.
His attention came to me first.
“You gotta be Nolani.”
“I am.”
“Malcolm Reed. Defensive backs coach.”
Recognition clicked. “Landon’s mentioned you.”
“Hopefully something favorable.”
“I’m reserving judgment until I see what you order.”
He laughed. “See, now I understand why he like you.”
Nyla finally looked up.
Malcolm stopped.
Not dramatically.
Just long enough.
Nyla noticed.
Her brow lifted. “You lose something, Coach?”
“Yeah.” She waited. “My train of thought.”
Oh.
Nyla rested one forearm against the counter. “That line usually work?”
“Wasn’t a line.”
“No?”
“Nah. Lines come prepared. You caught me off guard with yo’ pretty ass.”
I became deeply interested in organizing tasting spoons.
Nyla studied him. “That’s how you talk to women you just met?”
“Only when one fine enough to make me forget why I walked over.”
“That sounds rehearsed.”
“Shit, I wish it was. Would’ve sounded smoother.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“Didn’t say I did. I know you pretty, got a smart mouth, and apparently believe compliments violate line protocol. That’s enough information for five minutes.”
“You always this comfortable?”
“Nah. Sometimes I’m worse.”
“Good to know.”
Malcolm smiled. “See? Now we learning each other.”
“We are not learning each other.”
“I’m learning plenty.”
“And what exactly have you learned?”
“That you keep answering me.”
Nyla blinked.
Once.
I looked down before she caught me witnessing the hit.
She recovered quickly. “What do you want?”
His eyes stayed on her. “Currently?”
“Food, Malcolm.”
He laughed. “Aight. Brown sugar praline.”
“You don’t even know what it tastes like.”
“Then pick something for me.”
“You’re grown.”
“And you standing behind all this ice cream like the authority. Help me out.”
Nyla scooped brown sugar praline onto a tasting spoon and offered it across the counter.
He took one bite.
“Damn.” Satisfaction brightened her face. “You made this?”
“We did.”
“You always this good at what you do?”
“Usually better.”
Malcolm nodded slowly. “Oh, you got that shit bad.”
“Got what?”
“That confidence I like.”
“You’ve known me six minutes.”
“Six productive minutes.”
I had officially become unnecessary to this conversation.
Nyla slid his cup toward him. “Eight dollars.”
He tapped his phone against the reader.
“You take tips?”
“Yes.”
“Phone numbers?” Her eyes lifted. Malcolm raised one hand. “Relax. I ain’t asking for yours.”
“Good.”
“Right now.”
Nyla folded her arms. “And what makes you think later improves your chances?”
“I don’t.”
That made me look back.
The grin remained, but nothing careless sat behind it.
“You keep talking to me, so I’m gonna keep flirting. You tell me you ain’t interested, I move around. Simple.”
Nyla held his eyes. “And if I don’t tell you that?”
“Then I’m finna enjoy my ice cream and mind the little bit of business you allowing me.”
My sister stared at him.
I relocated a stack of napkins three inches to the left.
Malcolm took another bite. “You always got this much mouth?”
“You always ask women questions you know the answer to?”
His attention moved over her face. “Nah. I’m just trying to figure out how somebody like yo’ lil’ pretty ass got room for all that mouth.”
Nyla blinked again.
He got her twice.
I could not wait to abuse this information.
She pointed toward the field. “Go coach something.”
Malcolm lifted his cup. “You dismissing me?”
“I’m reminding you that somebody pays you to do something besides bother women at ice cream booths.”
“So you concerned about my employment now?”
“Malcolm.”
His brows rose. “See? You already using my name.”
“Go.”
“Aight, Coco.”
Her face changed immediately. “Who is Coco?”
“You.”
“My name is Nyla.”
“I know.”
“Then use it.”
“I will.”
“And Coco?”
He took another spoonful, looking far too pleased with himself. “Still staying.”
“Based on what?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It will.” Before she could respond, he stepped backward. “See you later, Nyla.”
“That sounded presumptuous.”
“Nah. Hopeful.”
He turned toward the field.
My sister watched him for exactly one second too long.
I leaned against the counter.
“Coco?”
“Noli.”
“I’m just making sure I heard correctly.”
“You heard nothing.”
“I definitely heard the beginning of a nickname.”
“You’re about to hear the beginning of a threat.”
“He got you.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“You forgot your comeback.”
“I was deciding whether he deserved one.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Nolani.”
“Yes?”
“Find something to do.”
“I have something.”
“What?”
“Watching this.” Her stare sharpened. I smiled. “He’s handsome.”
“That is irrelevant.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
She turned toward the register and muttered just low enough that she clearly hoped I wouldn’t hear her.
“He is fine though.” My head snapped toward her. Nyla pointed at me without turning around. “You heard nothing.”
“Oh, I heard everything.”
“Go find Big Lando.”
I looked toward the field.
“Gladly.”