Tariq “Reek” Horton
That night, Sienna invited me to her condo for dinner. I was caught off guard, because usually all we did was go to events where there were cameras and fucked afterwards. There was no pretending in her condo.
When I walked in, the first thing I noticed was the smell of spices and food. She had actually cooked. Sienna had on a sexy teddy. She wasn’t wearing any lashes, make up, or heels.
“You hungry?” she asked, already walking back toward the kitchen.
“I’m always hungry,” I said as I shrugged my jacket off and hanging it over the chair.
I followed her into the kitchen and watched her move around like this was regular for her to be this domestic for me.
I didn’t say that though. I just sat on the stool at the island and let her do her thing.
She slid a plate in front of me.
“You actin’ like somebody wife tonight.”
She shot me a playful look. “Shut up.”
I took a bite and was surprised. “This is good.”
“I know,” she replied, but her mouth twitched like she liked hearing it anyway.
We ate at the island instead of her dining table. She talked about random shit at first, something she watched, somebody she couldn’t stand.
Then she got quiet.
I looked up. “What?”
Sienna stared at her plate like she was deciding if she wanted to say it. Then she exhaled. “I really like that you treat me like I’m just a regular person, not my father’s daughter. I hate that most people talk to me like I’m a title, not a person.”
“That comes with the last name,” I told her.
“That’s the point. I don’t think I ever got to be a person first. I was always his daughter first. I grew up as the politician’s daughter.
Everything was controlled; what I wore, what I said, what I posted, what I didn’t post, who I smiled at, who I ignored.
I learned early how to be presentable.” She scoffed.
“People always think that’s a privilege.
Sometimes it is, but sometimes it just feels like you’re always on. ”
I watched her while she spoke. It didn’t seem like she was fishing for sympathy. It looked like she was taking advantage of finally being able to vent.
Then she looked at me. “I like that you treat me like I’m just a regular girl.”
I lifted a brow. “That’s a strange compliment.”
“It’s not. Everybody else either puts me on a pedestal or tries to humble me. You don’t do either. You don’t care who my father is. You don’t care who’s watching. I like that.”
I leaned back a little. “You sure about that?”
“Yeah. You’re the only person that talks to me like I’m just Sienna. Not Langford’s daughter. Not ‘the PR girl.’ Just Sienna.”
I held her gaze, but in my head, me and her were still just business. Keeping her happy kept her dad in the Cartiers’ pockets. Her good pussy and some fye ass pot roast wasn’t going to make me forget that this was an arrangement and I’m not the settling down type of nigga.
But out loud, I didn’t say any of that. “You want me to start calling you ma’am? Address you like the First Daughter?” I joked.
Sienna rolled her eyes. “You’re so silly.”
She laughed, but it didn’t cover up what she had just admitted. I could tell she didn’t say what she had for no reason.
After we ate, she put the plates in the sink and told me to pick something on TV for us to watch.
Sienna curled up beside me on the couch like it was natural. She rested her head on my shoulder and sighed like she had been holding her breath all day and finally felt safe enough to let it out.
My eyes stayed on the screen, but my mind was somewhere else.
Because that wasn’t PR. That wasn’t strategy. That wasn’t her playing a role.
That was Sienna catching real feelings.
And I wasn’t ready for what came with that.