Chapter 9 Sincere Bellamy
SINCERE BELLAMY
Ihad been ignoring it, second-guessing it, and telling myself this obsession with Rhythm was lust and curiosity. I told myself it was too fast and intense, which wasn’t my usual pace. But the moment I put my dick in her, I knew it wasn’t just desire. That was when I knew the feelings were real.
I made a decision then to show Rhythm that my interest wasn’t only physical, even though the physical part was good as fuck. I wasn’t going to be another man who looked at her like a body first and a person second. If I wanted her, I was going to show her. So I planned a real date.
Earlier that week, during one of our calls about the associate placements, she had mentioned that she had never been to an actual gallery opening as a guest. She said she always felt like those spaces were “for other people,” and then she laughed it off. But I’d made a mental note of it.
I was able to find a gallery opening that Saturday.
It was a small and invite-only opening with a Black curator.
The night was unusually warm for November.
It was about fifty degrees, which feels like summer to anybody born and raised in Chicago.
I shut the engine off and stepped out of the car just as her front door opened.
Rhythm wore a fitted brown top tucked into distressed blue jeans that hugged her just right.
They were cuffed at the ankles, so the pointed toe heels were shown off.
She had an off-white blazer draped over her shoulders and carried a bag the same color that I’d seen Livia carry.
Rhythm’s locs were pinned up neatly, showing off her neck, jawline, and doll-like face.
Her makeup was flawless without being too much. The bold lip was sexy as hell.
I stood there longer than I should have.
She smiled when she saw me staring. When her pace quickened, as if she couldn’t wait to get near me, I fought the blush that rushed to my expression.
When she slid her arms around me, the scent of warm pear, soft florals, and something creamy underneath felt just as intimate as her arms around me.
“Okay,” she said with wide eyes as I opened the car door for her. “Where are we going?”
I opened my mouth to answer and realized my brain had stalled. Every time she was near me, something shorted out. The educated, composed, always-two-steps-ahead nigga that I usually was took a backseat.
“It’s a surprise,” I said finally. “Just enjoy the ride.”
She blushed as she climbed in, and I appreciated that she trusted me, instead of forcing me to tell her.
As we drove through the city toward the north side, I felt the urge to show her romance that didn’t end in a bedroom, romance that showed up in thoughtfulness, and choosing spaces that made her feel seen.
Her gaze landed on me more than once, and it was lingering. Every time it did, it felt like a slow hand moving down my spine. I had to mentally check myself, telling myself to man up.
We pulled up to the gallery, and as we got out and followed the crowd, she looked around curiously while her hand clung to mine.
Once inside, she realized where we were, and her cheeks flushed. She squeezed my hand and rested her head briefly against me.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
That small gesture hit harder than any dramatic reaction could have.
Years in my business had taught me how to network and work a room.
And I knew my baby was overwhelmed with having to learn this part of the world she was entering.
So, I guided her through the room, introducing her to the right people.
I introduced her as the featured artist for Mothers of the Block at Voss.
That one sentence changed the way the room treated her.
And every time I said it, I felt her confidence grow a little more.
Eventually, she was moving around the room on her own, and I stepped back and just watched, feeling the confirmation that this wasn’t just lust. I wanted to build moments with her and give her rooms she hadn’t been in yet.
I wanted to watch her learn, shine, and realize she belonged everywhere I took her.
After the opening, I took her to dinner. That was when I knew I had to tell her about Tempo.
“Before this goes any further, I need you to know something.”
Rhythm’s face tightened. “Okay.”
“Tempo is my ex.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, wow. You all dated?”
“We were engaged.” Her eyes widened even more as I went on. “We actually got married.” Her mouth dropped. “But it ended before we could even get our marriage license.”
She blinked rapidly and then took a long sip of her drink. I watched her take in the information while trying not to let what she was feeling show on her face.
“I thought you should know sooner than later because you’re working closely with Aria. That family is still a big part of my life, despite what happened between me and her. I want you to know what you’re walking into.”
“What happened between you two?”
I explained everything to her, and as I did, she started blinking rapidly again like facts were hitting her all at once. I ended with, “She’s married to Big A now.”
“When were you two married?”
“A few months ago.”
“What the fuck?!” she spit so loud that she immediately recoiled as she got curious stares from patrons around us. She covered her mouth, muffling, “I’m sorry.”
But I was laughing. Her reaction made sense. I was still asking myself what the fuck had happened.
Rhythm’s face contorted into five different emotions as she asked, “And she’s married to Big A already?”
I chuckled sarcastically. “In her mind, she was married to Big A a long time ago.” Her brows met together, so I explained.
“Tempo and Big A had feelings for each other before she even met me. But her brothers wouldn’t allow them to date because Big A worked so closely with them.
So, when she met me, she tried to focus on me, but that didn’t work.
They messed around soon after she and I got married and it all came out. ”
Her eyes dropped to her plate. When she looked back up, the insecurity was there, hiding behind politeness. “I’m not going to lie. That’s intimidating.”
“Why?”
Rhythm hesitated, then forced it out. “Tempo is… Tempo. She’s beautiful. She’s in your world. She fits. And you’re close to them. You’re close to her brothers. You’re at their house on holidays. Though she is married now, your feelings for her couldn’t have gone away that fast.”
I held her gaze. “And you think you don’t fit.”
She didn’t answer, but her silence did.
I leaned forward slightly. “Look at me.”
She did.
“You have nothing to be intimidated by. Nothing.”
Rhythm let out a small breath. “Sincere—”
“Let me finish,” I cut in gently. “Tempo and I are done. That story is closed. I respect that family because we built real business together and they treated me like family. That does not mean I’m still tied to her.”
Her eyes searched my face like she wanted to believe me but did not want to be stupid.
“You’re not her,” I added. “And I do not want you to be.”
Rhythm’s throat moved when she swallowed. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Being… intentional. This is a lot.”
“Because I want to be a part of your life, and I know that means adding to yours.”
She stared at me for a long second, then her voice softened. “I’m not used to that.”
“I like you. I like your mind. I like how you move. I like how you love your kids. I like how you listen when you’re learning and how you get so confident and proud of yourself when you know what you’re doing. The attraction is there, yes. But it’s not the whole thing.”
Rhythm blinked fast, then looked away like she needed a second to hold herself together.
When she looked back, her smile was smaller, but real. “Okay…” then she took a deep breath and smiled. “Okay.”