Chapter 10
"Chef…Chef!"
I blinked rapidly as my head chef, Dupont sat across from me, his eyes locked on me as I clearly spaced off and didn’t hear anything he said.
I cleared my throat and straightened in my seat. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"
Dupont held out the paper in his hand. "We were going over the menu for the Johnson wedding. The bride wanted to replace the steak with lamb along with a few other menu changes. Wanted to get your okay to make sure we can accommodate?"
I nodded, accepting the paper and looking over the newly requested menu items. This particular bride had changed her mind once already, after we had already put in orders for the ingredients.
But I remembered how important the menu was at my wedding and how I fussed over every last detail while Dri just laughed and said we could do a buffet.
I gasped at the thought. She was in stitches at my reaction.
I smiled to myself at the memory as my eyes roamed over the paper. "Tell the Johnson's we're happy to make the revisions this one final time. If there are any other changes, we won’t be able to accommodate." I handed him back the paper.
"Yes, Chef." He nodded accepting it.
I sighed and leaned back folding my hands across my stomach. "Let's run a special on ribeye this week since they don’t want it. I don't want it to pile up."
"Yes, Chef." Dupont nodded again. He studied my face carefully. "Pardon the intrusion but you seem…off today."
I let out a slow breath, nodding in agreement. "I am. Tired."
Dupont nodded. "If you wanna head out, Chef I have everything under control. I'll call you if we need you."
I paused for a minute thinking it over. I was off.
And tired. Gianna's confession has disrupted my whole week and for some reason I couldn't seem to get her out of my mind.
That was a lie…I knew the reason. I liked her.
I was interested in getting to know the pretty woman who seemed full of surprises in more ways than one.
"Yeah…maybe I will head out," I mumbled. "You sure you got everything?"
Dupont nodded. "Of course, Chef. You have nothing to worry about. Go out and enjoy your day."
Letting out another breath I stood. "I think I will."
Dupont nodded and stood as well. I grabbed my keys and phone and headed out.
It was still early afternoon, the sun high in the sky.
Melo was at school and my little sister was picking him up later for me.
I shot her text to let her know I would be picking him up myself.
I still had a few hours to go so I decided to pay Boogie a quick visit.
I needed some brotherly counsel and who better to give it to me than a lawyer.
Boogie was a senior partner at a law firm. No one would ever guess that a man like him had one of the best legal minds in Vegas. He was probably face deep in some legal brief, but I needed to get this shit off my chest.
His secretary, Misha—a pretty, almond-skinned woman with braids, greeted me with that soft smile. "Remy, hi. It's so good to see you again."
I returned the smile. "You too, Misha. Is my boy available? I know I should've called. If he's busy, don't worry about it."
She waved me off good-naturedly. "You know he'll drop everything for you. He's actually free at the moment. Having lunch. You can head on in."
I tapped the desk lightly. "Thanks, Mish."
I made my way to the Boogie's office. Huge. All glass. He was looking down, a big ass salad in front of him as his eyes scanned a folder when I stepped in slowly. Boogie looked up and smiled that big ole smile he was known for when he noticed me.
"Rem, what's good bruh." He stood to greet me. We dapped and pulled each other into a hug. He stepped back, eyes searching mine in concern. "Something wrong?"
"Something gotta be wrong for me to pull up on my best friend?" I smirked.
"No. But in the middle of the lunch rush, I have some concerns."
I never could hide anything from him. I exhaled. "Actually, there is something I was hoping to run by you, bruh."
"Say no more." He gestured his head towards the plush leather chair in front of his black desk.
I sat down; one leg crossed across the other.
"You could've brought me dessert or something, frat," he smiled playfully. "An offering of sorts for my sage advice."
I chuckled. "I got you next time."
Boogie leaned forward and slid his brief aside focusing on me, face getting serious. "Talk to me."
I paused rubbing my hands together. "So…I met a woman."
His brows shot up and he set down the forkful of salad in his hand. "No shit?"
I nodded. "No shit. Her name's Gianna. She's beautiful, Boog. I actually met her in the club that night."
Boogie leaned forward more, invested. "That's not the light-skinned chick that was all over you, is it?"
"Nah." I shook my head. "I met her one the way out the bathroom. Saw her on the dance floor and…I couldn't see nobody else."
Boogie smiled. "That's what's up, bruh. So," he shrugged lightly, "what's the issue then?"
My cheeks puffed out as I tried to figure out how to say it. I leaned forward, elbows to my knees, hands rubbing together. "She's a prostitute."
Boogie looked at me, unblinking. Then he laughed. Softly at first—then hard. Harder than necessary. "Nigga…" he shook his head still chuckling. "I know it's been a while, but just 'cause you met her in the club that doesn't mean she's a prostitute, frat. Damn."
I stared at him. "Boog…she's a literal prostitute," I said seriously. "Or sex worker I should say." I shrugged. "Apparently that's more appropriate."
His laughter cut off immediately and his eyes searched mine again. "Wait a minute…you serious?"
"Yes!" I clasped my hands together. "I met one of her clients. Some hood nigga, who showed me his gun."
"What the fuck!" Boogie jumped up, face twisted in anger. "He threatened you? What he look like? I bet his bitch ass in the system. I can get that nigga charged like that," he snapped his fingers.
I waved it off. "Fuck him. I'm not worried about him. I'm stuck, Boog. I liked this woman," I confessed.
Boogie exhaled and sat down slowly. "Damn. For real?"
"Yeah, bruh." I nodded. "Something about her got me intrigued. And it's not just 'cause she fine. It's something underneath." I shrugged, head dropping down. "I ain't felt shit since Dri passed, and now the one time I do…"
"You meet a woman who sells pussy," Boogie filled in bluntly.
My head snapped up. "Don't say it like that."
"Shit it's the truth." Boogie shrugged. "But honestly, Rem…
this is Vegas. Sin—fucking—City. All these women are selling it one way or the other.
Now it may not be as straightforward as putting the money on the dresser.
But gifts, trips, shopping—all that shit in the pursuit of a woman comes with a price tag attached.
It just appears that lil' mama put an actual price tag on her shit. "
I leaned back in the chair, rubbing my beard slowly as his words settled. I shook my head. “It’s not like that."
He watched me carefully. “What do you mean?”
“She’s not… how you're thinking,” I said, trying to find the words. “At least not with me. She’s smart. Sweet. Fun. Carries herself differently. Soft. You talk to her and you wouldn't know that's what she does.”
Boogie snorted. “Yeah. I’m sure that’s part of the package, my boy.”
I shot him a look. “I’m serious.”
“I know you are,” he said, holding his hands up slightly. “That’s why I'm worried.” He leaned forward again, elbows on his desk. “So, what exactly are you trying to do here, Remy?”
I hesitated. “That’s the problem. I don’t know. Hence…why I'm here." I gestured to him. "I know you've dated women who are—”
"Loose?" Boogie cut me off, chuckling.
"No." I smirked, shaking my head. "Worldly. Let's say that."
"Yeah, aight. A world of dick," he muttered.
I cut my eyes at him. "Chill. You're not exactly a choirboy yourself. You didn't get the name Boogie 'cause you like to dance."
He cracked up. "Fuck you, Remy."
I laughed sitting back. "For real, frat. I need your advice. Besides Dri…you know me better than anyone."
His face got serious again and he exhaled with a nod. "Alright, I got you, bruh. Let's quarterback this shit. First off—you trying to date her seriously?”
I looked over to the window, sun high in the sky. City bustling below. "I mean…shit I don't know." I shrugged. "I can't stop thinking about her though," I admitted.
“Alright,” he nodded. “So what happened after she told you?”
I exhaled slowly. “I was shocked. Told her she didn't look like one. That she looked…clean.” I groaned at the memory of it. "I think I hurt her feelings."
Boogie winced. "I'm sure you didn't mean to hurt her. You were just taken aback. Any man would be."
Silence stretched for a second.
Boogie leaned forward again, voice calmer now. “Aight. Let’s take all the extra shit out of it.” He pointed at me. “You're a widowed father.” He pointed to his desk. “You built a legit, successful business. You have a son watching everything you do.”
My jaw tightened slightly. “I know that.”
“And she—” he paused, choosing his words a little more carefully this time, “—lives a lifestyle that doesn't exactly align with yours.”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
His eyes hardened. "Just throwing it out there...but how do you know she's not just using you as a come up."
I froze. I hadn't thought about it like that. She didn't seem like she was using me. Especially since she didn't immediately reach out after she found out I owned the restaurant. She seemed impressed—sure—but not on any gold-digger shit.
I shook my head. "I don't think that’s it. She didn’t even reach out until she saw my IG page, and I named a dessert after her."
"You named a dessert after her?" Boogie echoed, giving me a pointed look.
I just shrugged in response.
He shook his head. "Yeah…you on one," he sighed, locking eyes with me. "Aight. So now the real question is what you actually want from her then?”
I rubbed my hands together again. “I don’t know yet.”
“That’s not good enough,” he said plainly.
I looked up. “Why not?”
“Because she knows exactly what she's doing,” he replied. “And if you go into that situation confused, you're the one that’s gonna get hurt.”
I sat back, feeling the weight of that truth.
“I ain’t saying don’t deal with her. She's probably a cool chick. Your discernment is good, bruh,” he added. “I’m saying figure out your intention before you go any further.”
I nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”
He leaned back in his chair again, grabbing his fork. “But I will say this,” he added casually.
“What?”
He took a bite of his salad, chewed, then pointed at me with the fork. “If this woman got you naming desserts after her, leaving your restaurant in the middle of the day and pulling up to my office like this…” he smirked. “You already in deeper than you think, my boy.”
I let out a breath, shaking my head. “Yeah…I guess I am,” I admitted.
"Call her. Talk to her," he suggested. "See how she's feeling. Hear the why. And then decide with both eyes open if this is some shit you really wanna get into."
"And what if I decide that it is?" I asked.
Boogie smirked with a shrug. "Then at least you know the sex life will be robust."
I rolled my eyes slightly with a small smile.
"But real talk, Rem—" he continued. I looked back at him, and his face was serious again. "Whatever you decide to do, you have my full support, aight? I just wanna see you and my godson happy. No judgement on where it comes from."
I let out a sigh of relief. I needed to hear that. "I appreciate that, bruh."
Boogie nodded. "Always." He slid his legal brief back towards him. "Since you here, maybe I can run this case by you right quick. Get your perspective."
Hell nah. I wasn't about to sit and listen to his legal jargon for an hour. I did that enough in college. I looked down at my imaginary watch. "Damn frat, I would but I gotta pick up Melo."
"You lying ass nigga, it's only one," he smirked.
I stood up, stretching. "Yeah, but traffic and shit." I grinned. "Next time."
He chuckled. "Bye, asshole."
I gave him a two-finger salute. "I'll see you. Love you bruh."
"Love you too, fam."