Chapter 2
Chapter Two
DK
Ican’t believe my luck. Which is wild, considering only minutes ago I was about to bail. An online catalogue of people looking for a discreet hookup. An NDA. Fake names. What the hell was I doing?
Despite the lightweight jacket I chose for July, and the bar’s AC blasting, I started to overheat—second-guessing this whole thing. I popped another button at my collar and called my brother, Neo. He went into sell mode.
This is the perfect arrangement. You both know what’s up. Nothing deep. Just what you need. Trust me on that.
It wasn’t a matter of trusting him. It was trusting myself. Even a one-night deal required being present and in the right headspace. I wasn’t sure I was. But I couldn’t just ghost her. My plan was to wait for Luna to arrive, offer a sincere apology, and bow out.
Except now, with her standing here, leaving is the last thing on my mind. I knew from her photo she was beautiful, yet it did little to prepare me for the living, breathing version. She’s probably five-seven, but those lethal heels bring her to my chin.
I take her in, needing to put context to why my exit strategy suddenly derailed.
Big, dark eyes sparkling with curiosity and interest. A mass of ebony coils brushing against softly rounded shoulders.
Full, glossy lips that look like they’ve been dipped in burgundy wine, and a smile that feels like stepping into an ocean breeze.
Then there are her abundant curves wrapped in a fitted black dress, the neckline plunging to reveal lush swells of cleavage that have me saying a prayer. Lastly, her espresso brown skin, shimmering beneath the quiet light, is stroked with creamy-white patches that add to the whole picture.
In a word, Luna is drop-dead gorgeous. Okay, three words. But it’s more than just beauty. She has this… presence. A gravitational pull that draws every eye in the room and knocks the air clean out of me.
That’s when I realize I’m still holding her hand. Still staring, too. I let go—reluctantly—and slide out a chair for her, reminding my lungs to do their job.
“Thank you,” she says, her voice like the low hum of a cello.
I’m good at clocking details, and Luna is giving me plenty of material.
“What can I get you to drink?” I settle in across from her and offer the cocktail menu.
“I won’t be needing that. They make the best chocolate martinis here. It even comes with a truffle.”
“You’re a chocolate fan.”
“I’m a chocolate snob,” she corrects. “If it’s not a luxury brand, I don’t want it.”
“So a Snickers bar is out?”
“Don’t even come to me with that.” She feigns a threat, her playfulness the final piece that releases any lingering doubt.
I signal the waiter, order her drink, and another whiskey neat for myself.
As the server walks off, she studies me, serious now. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Please.”
“Good. Because this whole setup isn’t based on disclosing the truth. I want us to stick to the rules, but I’d like to know a little about you. Something that’s real without revealing names, location, or jobs.”
“I’m all for that.”
She smiles, delighted by my response. “I notice a slight accent. Is it South African?”
“Yes. I’m from Gauteng. How did you recognize it? I usually get British.”
“That’s not remotely the same.”
I smile that she gets it.
“Trevor Noah used to host one of my favorite late-night shows,” she explains. “You sound a little like him… but with a deeper baritone that is seriously working for me.”
“Thank you,” I say, finding her candor captivating.
“How long have you lived in the States?”
“Seventeen years. Since I was fifteen.”
“Must have been a major cultural shift. Difficult at that age.”
“It was.” I push my glasses up my nose. “At the time, nursing jobs were hard to come by. Even post-Apartheid, it wasn’t easy for Black people.
Black women, especially. My mother got recruited through a U.S.
program that offered specialization and real upward mobility in a field she loved.
It was a tough adjustment. Tested us all.
But we managed, and made this our home. Except for my grandmother—she still complains about it. ”
“You say that with a smile.”
“Gogo’s something else. Sharp as a tack. She’ll make you laugh and school you hard in the same breath.”
“She sounds like a trip.”
“She’s one of my favorite people. Ran the house while my parents worked, and made sure my brother and I kept the language and culture. She still gives my dad a tough time about not being a ‘true’ South African. He’s originally from the Philippines.”
“That explains why you got a little Charles Michael Davis going on.”
I laugh. “You’ve pieced me together like a mosaic of famous people.”
“It’s how my mind works.”
“Making associations.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m the same.”
We pause when our drinks arrive. She goes for the truffle first, eyelids fluttering as she savors it.
“Don’t mind me.” Her eyes open to find me staring again.
I don’t mind her at all.
“Would you like the other half?” she offers.
“I wouldn’t dream of depriving you.”
“Right answer.” She grins, popping the rest in her mouth with a dramatic “mmm”.
I lift my glass, thoroughly charmed. “Cheers, Luna.”
“Cheers.”
We share another smile and sip.
“So tell me something about you,” I ask. “Any siblings?”
“Technically, no. But my cousin is like a sister to me. We grew up together. She lives in New York now, and I really miss her. She’s the yin to my yang.”
“How so?”
“Lot’s impulsive and creative. An artist. I’m structured. A planner. I like schedules and order.”
“I don’t know you… yet. But you don’t seem that rigid.”
“Socially, no. But otherwise, I am. Especially at work. What about you?”
“I’m a details guy. Planning is what I do. If A fails, I already have B, C, and D lined up.”
“I know what you mean. I even keep E in my back pocket.”
We clink our glasses in solidarity.
“So how did two planners end up in the unorthodox world of Secrets In The Dark?” I ask.
“I think it actually tracks.” She licks foam from the rim of her glass, and my dick jumps to attention. It’s not just the many sexless months—it’s her.
“If we plan everything else, why not this?” she adds lightly.
“True.” I drag my attention from her mouth back to her eyes. “Though I didn’t plan this, my brother did.”
“Your brother pimped you out.”
We both laugh. Then curiosity narrows her gaze. “What’s the story there?”
“I haven’t dated in a while. My life’s been… complicated.” Vague but accurate. “I’m in the process of starting a new job next week—one that comes with a morality clause. Neo decided I needed some ‘social’ time. Since this app was more discreet than most, he set it up as an early birthday gift.”
“Well, thank you, Neo.” She lowers her glass with a teasing smile. “When’s your birthday?”
“Sunday.”
“And what do you think of your present?”
“I wasn’t keen on it. Meeting up like this, cloak and dagger… it gave me pause. But that was then.”
“And now?” she asks, her eyes dipping briefly to the table before lifting to meet mine again.
“No regrets at all.”
A quiet breath slips from her as if in relief. “I knew from your photo you’d be attractive, but your overall vibe is a pleasant bonus.”
“Glad, I haven’t disappointed you so far.” I sit back, eager to learn more. “So why the app?”
Her fingers trace the edge of the table—long, graceful, almost entirely white, except for a few brown spots, nails painted to match her lips.
“Like you, I’m stepping into a new opportunity.
It’s demanding and needs my entire focus.
But it’s been a while for me too, and I’ve missed companionship.
A random hook-up, to put it bluntly, could come back to bite me.
Which is ridiculous and sexist.” Her eyes flash, her mouth tightening for a beat.
“But that fight will have to wait. For now, I need privacy, and Secrets in the Dark gives me that.”
“You strike me as someone who locks in hard and doesn’t let go when something matters.”
“My father calls me a Doberman.” She smiles, conveying that she agrees.
“Determined, loyal. Disciplined… but with a streak of rebellion. I see that.”
“How?”
“I read people well. Occupational hazard. My guess? You’re taking on a leadership role that has profile, probably in a male-dominated field.”
“Hmm,” she says, neither confirming nor denying, then shifts gears. “Is Neo your only sibling?”
“Yes.”
“You’re the older one, I assume.”
“By six years. What made you think that?”
“I get first-born, high-achievement energy from you.” Her eyes narrow a fraction, looking into mine as if she’s searching for what’s behind them. “There’s an intensity about you, a serious focus. Not in a bad or boring way,” she adds. “Sorry, I shouldn’t typecast.”
“No apology needed. You pegged me right.”
“I think because I recognize some of it in myself. I’m ambitious.
I strive to excel at everything I do. But I’m not always hustling.
I value my downtime. It lets me refuel. After a long day, I’ll walk the beach near the dunes.
Come home and put on satin jammies—because I’m extra like that.
” She laughs at her indulgence. “Then I’ll unwind for the evening with a crossword puzzle, some reality TV.
The Real Housewives of Atlanta is my guilty pleasure. And chocolate, of course.”
I smile at the line-up. “You have balance.”
“You don’t?”
She clocked me again. “It’s not my forte.” The bigger the challenge, the better. That’s what drove me… until I crashed. Now, I’m trying a different scene. Small town—lower pressure, slower pace. It should be easy. And therein lies the rub. Easy has never been the measure of success for me.
Some days, this stripped-down version feels like I’m walking around with a layer of confidence scraped off, raw where I used to be steel.
But I’m not dragging that corpse into tonight.
Not with Luna.
Sexy. Gorgeous. Bright as hell, Luna.
I like her intelligence. Her down-to-earth humor. The way she draws me in and pulls me out. It feels good being with her. The kind of good I didn’t know I needed.
“I’m learning how to relax,” I tell her.
“How’s that going?”
“Not great,” I admit with a short laugh.
“What do you do to loosen some of that intensity?”
“Workout and…”
“And what?” she urges when I pause.
I consider dodging the question, but her expression is too eager.
“I build Lego sets.”
That catches her by surprise. “Well, you have yet again differentiated yourself from any other date. I wasn’t expecting that. How cool. What kind of things do you build?”
She sounds genuinely interested.
“Architecture sets, mostly. Cities, landmarks, skylines. Stuff like that.”
She stares at me for a second. Then, “I love that you got a little nerdyness going on.”
“I prefer strategic hobbyist.”
Her laughter spills out warm, landing somewhere beneath my ribs. The sound does something to me. Something that makes me want to hear it again.
“Do you make the little construction workers wear hard hats?” she asks.
“Of course, I have to keep it OSHA compliant.”
She laughs harder.
And for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m performing a version of myself. I’m just here. Talking. Smiling. Being.
“This is the most relaxed I’ve felt in a long time,” I admit.
“I hope I have something to do with it.”
“Luna,” I say, leaning in, giving her the full truth, “you are entirely the reason.”