Chapter 9
NINE
What time tomorrow? Did those words just fall off my lips?
Whew, chile! What was I thinking?
And why does Quintus smell so damn good?!
My heart races and I swear there’s a swarm of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. He’s so close, very close, and I’m rattled, actually frazzled. What the hell is wrong with me?
Minutes before he arrived, my heart started beating a little faster than normal but I brushed it off as natural nervousness.
The man I married online in the middle of the night while floating, thanks to THC and bourbon, was coming to my place.
Who wouldn’t be anxious? But when I opened my door and saw him, damn!
Quintus is gorgeous. He has a swag that he owns and I love it.
I love a confident Black man, especially one who can dress and smells like heaven.
His woodsy, spicy scent intoxicated me the moment my door opened and his appearance entranced me next.
A chocolate man in all brown should be illegal.
Casual Quintus is just as sexy as tailored suit Quintus.
The simple but clearly designer light brown short sleeve tee, dark brown jeans, and matching deep brown LV sneakers look flawless on his tall, muscular frame.
He’s mastered the whole professional with a side of street vibe. This man is fine.
My husband…
Who’s all in my space…
I like it but I shouldn’t.
“I’m going over to my parents’ early to start the grill but I can come scoop you around one,” he says, answering the question I still can’t believe I asked.
After gathering my breath to calm my ass down, I manage to say, “No. Cooking then stopping to drive here for me makes no sense. I can drive myself.”
“It’s no problem. My brother is helping me. He can manage while I pick you up,” he insists, but I stand firm.
“No, it really makes no sense. I’m driving and I’ll be there at one. What do I need to bring?”
“Just yourself.”
“My ma didn’t raise me to show up emptyhanded. God rest her beautiful soul.”
“Oh, sorry to hear that,” he says with so much compassion.
“Thanks. It’s been a few years but I miss her and my papa every day,” I admit. Grief is strange. Some days it’s manageable, and others, it’s not. Today, I’m managing but I’ll always miss them both. I can bring something sweet. How many people?”
“You really don’t have to bring anything.”
“But I am. Can you just give me a number, please?” I insist with an extra-big smile.
“At least fifteen.”
“Damn!”
“There’s a lot of us,” he says.
“Clearly,” I comment with a smile. “It was just me and my grandparents. I can’t imagine. My only family are my best friends.”
“It gets crazy,” he says with a smile. “But it’s all love. You can bring them if you want. I’m gonna have to meet them anyway.”
“Oh, you definitely have to meet them but I’ll arrange something with just us soon and let you know. For our first introductions, I think separate is best.”
“Do they know about us?” he asks with a sexy smirk. God, he’s gorgeous. I can’t tear my eyes away from him.
“Yes, they know. We don’t have secrets. They are my everything,” I tell him. Then his cell rings. He stares at the screen, almost hesitant to answer. “Go ahead and answer that. I’m going to take this into the kitchen,” I tell him, then grab my flute and walk out of the living room.
The minute I’m in my kitchen, I exhale then laugh at myself.
This nervous, anxious version of me is foreign as hell.
I’ve never felt like this before, not in law school, not when I took the bar exam, and not even the days I was sworn in as a lawyer and later as a judge.
Each of those were monumental and pivotal for me and I didn’t have an inkling of this nervous energy.
Is it the thought of pulling this marriage off until after the election or is it him?
The sound of him entering my kitchen pulls me from contemplative thoughts. I turn to see him standing in the doorway with a peculiar expression.
“Sorry. I gotta go. One of my clients has the police at his crib with a warrant. I need to handle this,” he says before stepping closer, into my space. “I just sent you the address for my parents.”
After placing the deli platter and his flute behind me on the counter, he snakes his arms around my waist, and for some reason, I don’t stop him or try to push him away.
There’s comfort in his arms, so I allow him to hold me.
My five foot nine frame cowers next to his much taller one.
He has to be over six feet tall because my head rests under his chin.
When I raise my eyes to connect with his, a smile spreads across his handsome face.
“What?” I question.
“I’ve been waiting to get my arms around your soft body since you opened the damn door,” he admits. “And now I gotta leave.” His hand caresses my chin then he continues. “Can I call you later, wife?”
I smile. “Yes, you can.”
“Good and you can tell your team to hold The Chronicle announcement until Monday morning. My family will know tomorrow when they meet you.” His lips lightly peck my forehead then he releases me. “I’ll call you,” he repeats before walking out of my kitchen and leaving me...
Wanting.
It takes me a moment to move out of my stupor.
I journey back into my living room, lock my door, then set the alarm.
I grab our plates and napkins and take them into the kitchen.
Once I’ve put everything up and my kitchen is spotless, I relax on my sectional, shoot Duke a text about The Chronicle announcement, then call Giselle.
“Hey, girl,” she answers with a sigh.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I ask.
“Just aggravated. I need some new escorts and the screenings today have been disappointing as hell. I’ve had eleven so far and only four of them had on some damn clothes.
The others walked up in here like this is a fucking strip club.
TopPick is elite. My clientele expects more, and hell, I demand more.
I’m looking for more than a phat ass here.
I sell dates, an experience, and the best of the best. TopPick requires beauty and brains.
I even have clients who want multi-lingual dates. ”
“I know your standards so I can only imagine your disappointment.”
“Honestly, I might need to fire my damn assistant ’cause where the hell did she advertise for these women,” she scoffs.
“Leave Tessa alone. She’s good.”
“Today, she isn’t,” she snaps then laughs. “But enough of me and my bullshit today. What’s going on with you and your situation?”
“You mean my husband,” I interject and grin too. “He just left here actually.”
“He was there? For what? How was that?” she fires off.
“It was interesting. We talked it all out. He’s agreed to stay married for my campaign and I’m going to meet his big family tomorrow. After that, I want to arrange a quick meet with y’all too. He has to meet my family.”
“Let me host our meeting with him,” she says. Giselle loves a good get-together.
“You know you can. I will not object.”
“What are you wearing tomorrow though?” she asks.
“I don’t know. It’s a barbecue with just us, his five brothers, parents, nephews, and daughter.”
“Daughter! He has a child? Where’s the mother?”
“She’s out of the picture. He’s a single dad taking care of his beautiful little girl.”
“And you’re a step mommie. Mireya, this is a lot. Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
“I’m sure because I have to. I’ve worked too hard trying to balance this unfair judicial system. I can’t let Richardson get my bench and set us back. He can’t win. Plus, I spoke with Duke. We only have to do this until January. I can pretend to be married for five months.”
“It’s not pretend though. You are actually married.”
“I know. I’m coming to terms with that. It’s going to take some time though.”
“Meeting the family definitely is going to make it real. Make sure you walk in there like the queen you are,” she says.
“Always. This crown never tilts.”
“And doesn’t,” she cosigns.
“I’m going to actually treat myself for the rest of the day to get ready. That’s why I was calling, to see if you wanted to join me at Sugar + Milk.”
“Girl, I could use an aromatherapy deep tissue right now,” she says, referring to her preferred massage at our favorite spa.
“That’s exactly what I’m getting after my diamond life infusion facial.”
“Add the vagi-steam too. You’re married now,” she says with playfulness in her tone. “Call me later. I need to go.”
“Bye, bitch,” I tease before ending the call.
As soon as my line is clear, I log on to Sugar + Milk Beauty Bar & Spa’s website.
Since I’m a VIP member, it’s normally easy to book appointments the same day and today is no different.
At six, I’ll be on a table getting treated to magical hands.
That gives me an hour to change and head to Blue Mountain where it’s located.
Right before I stand, I get a text from Giselle.
Giselle: I forgot to tell you. Quintus isn’t a client here. I only have one Bako and it’s not him.
Relieved, I text back. Oh. Thanks!
Although I’m curious who the other Bako is, I’ll never ask. It would be futile anyway because Giselle would never tell me. The privacy of her clients is absolute. In her mind, this is the only line she’ll cross, and even that’s only for us, her besties.
I arrived in Diamond Falls about fifteen minutes before one and ran into a train, a long ass train.
I’m late and loathe not being on time. My ma always said that being late is the rudest thing a person can be because it shows a total disregard for the person or people waiting for my arrival.
I feel bad, so while I’m stuck in this line of vehicles waiting on the train to pass, I send Quintus an apologetic text.
Me: In DF but stuck behind a train.
Quintus: You’re good. Take your time and just be safe.