10. Daylin #3
It would just be the four of us tonight, and I was happy about it.
Cairo Jr. was chill, but sometimes Serene did too much, especially if she ingested too much wine.
I didn’t care what the bitch said; she loved getting away from her husband and kids, which was why she could take down a whole bottle of wine when she came over my parents’ home.
“Hi. Welcome.” My mother answered the door, beaming up at Rakim.
“Hi, Mom.” I hugged her, walking inside. “This is Rakim, my new boyfriend.”
“How you doing?” He gave her his fine nigga smirk.
For most people, having a new man so soon and right after being freed from captivity would be strange and cause questions to arise. But my family was so elated that I was no longer with Shaun, they didn’t give a fuck about the details, and it worked in my favor for the moment.
“Great. Nice to meet you.” She cheesed widely before embracing him and taking the flowers plus champagne he’d brought. “Ooh, the good stuff too.”
“Had to,” he replied.
“Cairo is already in the dining room, so just follow me.” My mom led the way as I slipped my hand into Rakim’s so we could trail her.
“Hi, Daddy.” I greeted him, as he ascended smiling at the sight of Rakim and me. “This is Rakim.”
My father hugged and kissed me, then focused his attention on my man.
“Nice to meet you, young man.” He shook Rakim’s hand. “Firm handshake. Good start.” My dad gestured for us to sit before pulling out my mom’s chair.
Rakim did the same for me, and moments later, we were all seated at the table, a feast in the middle.
My mother had always been an amazing cook, even though we had plenty of chef prepared meals coming up.
Today was her doing, however, and I was excited to dig into the honey fried pork chops—her specialty.
We piled our plates in comfortable silence, and then my father prayed over the table.
“Rakim, what is it that you do? My baby girl here didn’t want to tell us too much.” My dad got right to the interrogation.
“I run a boxing gym and own Godfrey Baking Co.,” he answered.
“Wait a minute . . . I think we have some of that bread in the kitchen. Don’t we, Clarissa?” My father turned to my mom, looking like a fan.
“Dad, please.” I huffed, giving Rakim a look who only smirked.
He hopped up and jogged out before returning with a loaf and a wide grin, cradling the bread as if it were his newborn child.
“Told you. We love it.” He sat down.
“Appreciate the support.” Rakim chuckled at my mortification as did my mom.
“Of course.” My father ate a chunk of his pork chop. “So you own two businesses. That’s amazing. And how old are you?”
“I’m thirty-three.” Rakim nodded.
“Very good.” My mama bobbed her head, pleased.
“What made you want to open a bread company?” She quizzed him.
“My mother was allergic to gluten, and coming up, she always complained about how poorly made the gluten free breads were and how disgusting they tasted. So the bakery is like an ode to her. I feel like she’s a big part of why it’s so successful,” Rakim explained.
“That is so sweet.” My mother simpered, patting his hand. “How did you all meet? That’s truly what I’ve been wondering because Daylin just got—”
My daddy cleared his throat loudly to shut my mama up. He hated Shaun so much he didn’t want him even being mentioned. She caught on quickly, repeating her initial question.
“We met at a party a little while ago and got to talking. She ghosted me for a bit, but when we resumed communication, it was like nothing had changed.” Rakim lied for me.
It was the story I’d told him to tell, and he’d orated it flawlessly. However, I could see how uncomfortable lying made him, and it was bittersweet. I loved that he hated to lie but hated that I was putting him in this position.
“I like that. You know, Day hasn’t always made the best dating choices, but I think this time, she’s gotten it right. In fact, her choices in life, period, are usually questionable, but it seems that’s changing.”
Rakim tittered almost inaudibly as he stared down into his half empty plate.
I knew his body language, and he didn’t like my dad’s comment but would let it go, thank God.
It was nice having a man with some decorum, because Shaun didn’t have the maturity to allow things to slide out of respect for my father.
“Life choices like what?” Rakim queried, drinking some of his water.
“Like her career,” my mother chimed in. “We’re all doctors; we meaning me, my husband, and Daylin’s siblings. However, Miss Rebel here chose to be a um . . . hell, I don’t even know what you’d call it.”
“A business owner, kind of like me,” Rakim answered for her.
“I mean, yes, but it’s not the same. You own a well-known bread brand, and she has . . . cases.” She snickered into her wineglass.
Rakim tittered again, sniffling some to seemingly calm himself, so I just lightly brushed my fingers along his forearm to give him a reminder to keep his cool.
“I admire Daylin. She’s smart, educated, beautiful, a successful business owner, and she don’t let the next person dictate what she wants to or plans to do with her life.
I mean, she making half a million a year selling .
. . cases.” He mocked the way my mother had said it, and I could see the shock laced within her expression at my income.
“And I think as long as she ain’t constantly borrowing money or making choices that jeopardize her life or her loved ones’ lives, we should be congratulating her. ”
“We should,” my father said, looking over at me, just as astonished as my mama at how successful I was.
I never talked with them about my business because they didn’t wanna hear it, so I knew this would be news to them.
As we dug back into our food, I glanced at Rakim who winked at me, causing me to blush. I loved his respectful but classy read.
Afterward, I decided to help my mom clean up while my father opted to have a drink with Rakim.
“Why didn’t you tell us how much you made with that business?” my mother questioned as we washed the dishes.
“Didn’t matter, Ma. And how often do you guys actually listen when I start talking about work? You knew I wasn’t doing too bad since I have my own townhome, drive a luxury car, and never ask for a penny, right?” I hiked my brow.
“Guess I . . . just never thought about it.” She wiped down the glass top electric stove. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, Ma.” I refused to look at her as I focused on the task at hand.
“Really. I want to order one.” She got quiet, but I heard her quick-patterned breathing like she was deciding on whether to ask me a certain question or not. “What is the business called?”
“Delicacies. The site is phonedelicacies,” I answered dryly, unsure of why I was so offended that she didn’t know the name. I kind of knew that already.
“Okay,” she stated softly, and we remained silent as we finished tidying up.
Finally, the men were done with their drink and men talk, so Rakim and I left. I was happy to be out of there and wouldn’t be visiting my parents for a good two weeks straight to give myself some recuperation time. They always took a lot out of me.
As Rakim pulled out, I got a text message from my dad.
Dad: I like him. Good job! A real man with a real career this time. <3
The last time he’d said ‘good job’ was when I got accepted into college, but he rescinded it as soon as he found out I was a business major and not going into pre-med.
“He likes you,” I said, caressing Rakim’s hand that rested on my thigh while he used his other to steer the vehicle.
“He aight.” He looked over at me momentarily, smirking.
Licking his lips, he added, “I don’t feel right though, baby.
I ain’t ever had to pretend in my life. Only reason I did was because I love you, and your reasoning made sense.
Can’t say I’d be too open to getting to know a muthafucka who kidnapped my baby.
But damn.” He shook his head, clearly distressed.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be, baby.” He gripped my hand, caressing while staring out at the freeway, pondering. I wish I could syphon his thoughts into mine and figure out exactly what he was thinking. “My fault for falling in love with a woman I kidnapped.”
“It is your fault because according to you, part of the reason you chose me over Serene was because you liked me,” I recalled, loving the fact that he smiled and chuckled at my comment.
Bobbing his head to confirm, he replied, “I did. Just figured you’d be something nice to look at though. I ain’t intend for us to become . . . this.” He gave me his eyes now that we’d exited the freeway and were at a red light. “Glad it did though.”
“Me too.” I leaned over to peck him a few times before falling back into my seat. “No matter what he feels or says, I’m with you.”
My statement made him clutch my hand tightly, before bringing it to his mouth to kiss.