Chapter 7
“YOU AND I BOTH KNOW I’M A MAN OF ACTION IF NOTHING ELSE.”
A greeing to have lunch with a man before knowing what his intentions were wasn’t on Orielle's bingo card today. Or any day for that matter. It wasn’t a move she would normally pull because she didn’t waste her time.
That was the thing about Najee, though. He wasn’t your typical man, nor was their situation normal—their friendship , as she so eloquently labeled it.
She sat across from him at Freddy’s with a full belly and an even fuller heart.
The mom-and-pop soul food diner had some of the best dishes Orielle considered pure comfort food.
They matched the vibes of the place, making her feel right at home as eighties jazz and blues crooned lowly over the updated speakers.
The drive there was short, and she appreciated Najee for being considerate of her time despite her attempt to get out of his invite. Orielle was happy she agreed.
“You got enough?” Najee asked.
She nodded. “Yes. I can’t eat another thing. How am I supposed to drive home if I keep yawning every thirty seconds?”
Najee smirked. “You’re talking to a man who has a car service. We’ll figure it out.”
Giggling, Orielle shook her head. She fell right into that one.
The fact that he said they would figure it out together made Orielle even more relaxed in his presence.
The simple phrase was a quiet allegiance of his unwavering security.
She tried not to think so much into it, but that’s what she did.
Overthink. And then blurt things out of her mouth that her brain hadn’t fully computed.
“What is it that you want from me?”
Najee stopped pulling bills from the stack of money in his hand. “Why do you think I want something from you, RiRi?”
“Because people always do.”
Her direct answer made Najee lean back in his seat after counting out more than enough to cover the bill. The cautiousness in her gaze, like she was waiting for the disappointment in his reply, bothered him.
“And what is that they want? Because I can guarantee their desires and mine will never add up.”
Desires? The word echoed in her brain so loudly, Orielle had to take a sip of her water.
He watched her the entire time. Waiting, willing, and ready to listen.
For her, Najee had nothing but time on his hands.
Yet, he wasn’t nearly prepared for the raw, unfiltered answer only someone like her could give.
“My time with no effort. My peace with no safety. My heart with conditions. My love with no reciprocity. My money, without caring how I made it. How my body feels, before knowing how my mind moves.”
Her answers were tailored to specific people in her life.
CJ, Janelle, Bobby, her father, and the strangers online who lusted after her.
Orielle and Rielle Summers lived two separate lives.
One world derived from the other, but somehow, they meshed like day fading into night.
Two skies, different hues, but shared the same horizon.
Some people didn’t know how to differentiate the two, leaving Orielle with no choice but to keep her guard up. She didn’t want to be that way forever. At least she wasn’t trying to be. It was a collaborative effort on all ends.
Outside of yoga and the music, you couldn’t reach her.
Not beyond the surface anyway. Najee had gotten past that, but now she was pushing him back.
He and the people she was used to dealing with weren’t on the same page.
Not mentally, physically, emotionally, and damn sure financially.
They weren’t even in the same book, shelf, or library.
“They’re asking for a whole lot from a person who doesn’t seem to require much,” Najee said.
Orielle sighed. He’d read straight through her. “Just because I don’t require much doesn’t mean I deserve the bare fucking minimum.”
She didn’t want to be taken for granted.
Or taken advantage of.
She didn’t want to be silently craved.
She didn’t want to have to overcompensate.
She didn’t want to compromise her pure heart.
What Orielle wanted was to be seen wholly, heard without speaking loudly or at all, loved deeply, unconditionally, and chosen out loud. Was that too much to ask?
“You deserve what you put into this world, and that’s the best of everything, Pretty Girl. Know that.”
“I do,” she said confidently. Surely. Then, she waited. He still hadn’t answered her question. Najee smirked, reading her mind.
“If I tell you what I want, that leaves no room for me to show you. You and I both know I’m a man of action if nothing else.”
She nodded, completely aware of how he moved.
“Furthermore, I don’t want anything from you that I can’t give you tenfold. And when you do give it to me, whatever it is, it’ll be because you wanted to without hesitation, doubts, or regrets.”
Doubting was a part of human nature. Najee knew that. He expected that from her for now. What he didn’t want was for her to regret anything up to this moment. And Orielle didn’t. Her heart knew she had made the best decisions, even if it came with harsh consequences.
She toyed with the ends of her hair and smiled, thanking the waitress as she returned Najee’s change. He left it there as a tip.
“I can see that happening,” she admitted.
Najee licked his lips as amusement filled his eyes. “Yeah? I’m glad we both can see the future.”
She chuckled. “Seriously, though. I can and I don’t know what it is, but I’m not running from it. The only thing I need to know is if you’re completely through with your ex.”
“Hell yeah,” Najee said with certainty. “Once you cross me, there ain’t no coming back.”
Renae was lucky to be alive. People had lost their lives for less. That wasn’t something Najee was proud to admit or brag about, and he never did. It was life... or death. Especially where he was from. There were no second chances when it came to him.
Najee left the forgiving up to God, while he simply forgot who the person was. It was better for everyone that way. She stared at him for a beat and sighed.
“Okay. Cool. I guess, we’re good then, friend .”
Najee laughed. “Yeah. Say that shit like you mean it.”
“Whatever. We can’t really be friends unless you tell me something.”
“What’s that?” he asked, finishing off his Sprite.
Orielle tapped one of her nude acrylic nails against the other, wondering if she should even bring it up. She wasn’t embarrassed to ask, but she would be if he didn’t give her the answer she was looking for. That was the ugly side of having expectations. She never knew if people would meet them.
“What’s the title of your favorite song from the ones I put on your keychain?”
The way his eyes expanded made Orielle’s heart drop. He hasn’t even listened , she thought. But her thoughts were completely wrong. Digging in the pocket of his jeans, Najee retrieved his keys. Her heart lifted and skipped a bit when he dangled the black quaver note from his index finger.
Sighing, Najee ran a hand down his beard that he’d grown out while locked up. “Damn. That’s a tough one. I was really feeling See Me since that’s the first on the playlist, but then I heard One Thing and had that hoe on repeat for a minute.”
Orielle grinned so hard, and her heart almost burst out of her chest thanks to what he said next.
“But All The Ways is my favorite. You made it sound like you were having a conversation without the other person having to say a word. Like the letter you wrote me, but in a song. I don’t know how you did that, but the shit is genius.”
She thought so too, having alternated between the letter she gave him and her music notebook once the feelings hit her.
Orielle had to get both out at once, and ironically, it was her favorite song, too.
The layered harmonies and crazy rifts were about falling in love with a man she didn’t know, but he was perfect for her.
How deep and safe his love was. How being soft no longer felt like a crime. Najee felt every word she sang.
Smiling, Orielle held a hand over her face. “Oh, wow. Okay.” She giggled. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“I bet.” He chuckled. “You know what they say about expectations, though... You should only have them for the real nigga you know is going to meet and match them.”
Orielle had never in her life heard that statement, but of course, she hadn’t. It only applied to her when it came to Najee.
Her heart, the thing Orielle had no intentions of giving up, had been snatched. For all she cared, Najee could keep it. After all, she did label him a kidnapper and he was leaving up out of there with something.
T he one thing Orielle hated and secretly enjoyed about getting her hair done at Moo’s shop was the gossip you were bound to hear.
If Moo wasn’t there like today, most of the women were either tuned in listening, adding their two cents, or minding their business.
Had she been there today, she wouldn’t have let anything they were talking about fly. She didn’t play that messy shit.
As one of the top award-winning stylists in the city, Moo had a reputation to maintain.
She hadn’t made it this far because her name was always in the mix of some drama.
Her shop was a place where you could come to unwind and escape the everyday stressors, while pampering yourself.
And yes, it did get a little messy at times, but if she knew the other hairstylists were in there engaging, they wouldn’t have liked anything Moo had to say.
Orielle sat in her stylist, Tya’s chair, and crossed her legs.
She was munching on a bag of Cheetos while the smell of freshly pressed hair, Got2b glue spray, and tea tree shampoo wafted around her.
The insistent white noise from the blow dryer, occasional hiss of a curse word when someone got burned by the hot comb that was too close to the scalp, and random outbursts of laughter were so welcoming.