The Agent
“Ooo, hello gorgeous,” Gabriel greeted as I answered his FaceTime call. Grinning, his eyes raked up and down all he could see of my torso through my phone camera that was propped up on my dresser. “You looking finer than a glass of wine. Where you headed off to?”
Rolling my eyes, I continued brushing mascara on my eyelashes.
“Out to dinner,” I replied. I was applying my last bit of makeup when Gabriel called.
As reluctant as I was to even entertain the idea of tonight, I had to dress accordingly.
Even though our relationship didn’t work out, my family’s friendship with his was still on the line.
I needed to play my part for a few hours.
“Oh, right. With your ex. I remember you telling me.”
“I’d much rather be spending the night in with Mr. Gideon,” I said, referencing the series by Eric Jerome Dickey I’ve been reading this week. Logan put me on desk duty as yet another layer of precaution for my injuries, and the series has been keeping me company between the monotonous paperwork.
“Sorry to break it to you, mamas, but that man is fictional - and he’s a hitman. You don’t want or need any parts of that nonsense.”
“Shit, I might. Those people may not be real, but they get down. I need some of that in my life.”
“Well, maybe Justin can put a little something on you. For old time’s sake.”
I froze in place and gave Gabriel a blank stare.
His grin grew wider as he broke out into soft cackles. “What? You said he was a little boring, but you never said that dick wasn’t good.”
“Gabriel, shut up.” I tried to contain the smile tugging at my lips, but couldn’t due to his eruption of infectious laughter.
“I’m just saying,” he said between his laughs. “Spin the block and get that back blown out one last time.”
“Oh, please. Getting laid is at the bottom of tonight’s plan.” I sighed. “He’ll probably grovel and beg for me to accept his ring. But, I can’t do that. I’ve wasted enough of his time.”
“Yeah, I hear you,” Gabriel said. “You’re doing the right thing, letting him down easy. Don’t let anyone guilt you into thinking differently.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
“Text me when you get home. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Beats from SZA’s last album resumed playing after I hung up the call with Gabriel. I hummed along to the lyrics as I looked over myself one last time.
Since I really wasn’t trying to impress Justin tonight, I opted for a long-sleeved royal blue dress that hugged my figure and gold heels.
My braids were pulled up into a high bun, and my edges were tacked down in sleek swoops.
The usual dark bronzes glittered on my eyelids and my lips were frosted in dark lip liner and gloss.
Earlier in the day, I made a point to go to the nail salon and fill in my acrylic set. My nail tech touched up the coffin shape and used a fall palette to color in my nails.
“Beautiful,” my mother used to say in my teenage years when she’d pop her head in my door and see me getting ready.
She’d give me a small smile, the one that told me she was proud even though she didn’t say it aloud.
Back then, I relished in all the moments of acceptance I could get.
But even as a child, I wished my looks weren’t the only thing she took pride in.
I shook off the heavy weights attempting to lay their palms on my shoulders.
Tonight is not about her. I’ll wallow in my river of my mother’s disappointment tomorrow.
I spritzed on some perfume and headed out the door.
The drive to the restaurant wasn’t nearly long enough to paint on the fake smile and mentally prepare to listen to Justin’s pleas for the next few hours.
The closer I came to my destination, the more I regret passing up on the short window to cancel.
I could’ve blamed it on the concussion I had.
Lied and said I still wasn’t feeling great.
But that word would just come back around to my mother, and I did not want to deal with her.
Just a few hours, I told myself as I pulled into the crowded parking lot.
I shuffled through the parking lot and walked through the glass entrance doors.
The hearty smell of marinara sauce and spiced meats greeted me as I stepped into the dimly lit dining area.
Inside, the restaurant was teeming with an abundance of people.
Servers dressed in black and white gracefully weaved around the tables with trays filled with glasses or plates.
Patrons dressed to the nines sat around the round tables with white satin tablecloths with candle-topped golden centerpieces.
On the farther side of the restaurant, a small orchestra was perched on a small stage, strumming an elegant tune.
Two hostesses dressed in black blazers were waiting at the front podium. Both of them offered me a smile as I approached them.
“Hello, I’m under the reservation for Justin Hartford,” I explained.
The blonde hostess beamed at the name. “Oh, you’re the lucky lady he’s been waiting for,” she said.
Raising my brow, I glanced at the clock. I wasn’t late, was I?
“Don’t fret,” she said, noticing my expression. “Just enjoy.”
I turned my expression to the other hostess, a petite Black woman with her hair slicked back into a low bun. “Can’t ruin the surprise,” she said with a shrug, her voice lower than the other girls. She waved her hand as she walked around the podium. “Follow me.”
Nodding, I complied and let her lead me down the hall. We passed all the patrons chatting in the main dining area and headed towards the very back of the establishment. “Let me guess: he rented the private room?” I asked.
Looking over her shoulder, the hostess nodded. “And decorated.”
“Hm.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “Not a romantic?”
I shook my head. “Just seen it a million times. Gets old after a while.”
She nodded in understanding.
We reached the door leading into the isolated suite. The hostess offered me one last smile before she turned the knob and pushed the door open.
The rose petals on the floor were the first thing to catch my eye as I stepped inside.
They made a small trail leading to the small round table in the middle of the room.
Like the other tables in the restaurant, it was decorated with a white satin cloth and golden centerpiece.
Instead of candles, a bouquet of roses sat like a crown on top of it.
A bottle of wine and two glasses sat in front of the cushioned chairs.
A chandelier filled with golden lights hung above it, dimmed the lowest setting, draped the room in a sensual darkness.
In the corner, a small speaker relayed the notes of the orchestra playing in the main area.
My eyes flicked from the vacant table to the figure standing on the opposite side of the room near the window. If not for the sliver of moonlight peeking through the curtains, I might’ve missed his silhouette.
“Hi, Justin,” I greeted, feigning a smile. “Long time, no see.”
He chuckled, but his voice wasn’t the one I was expecting. “Good evening, Agent,” he replied, his voice deep and laced with darkness. Sin dripped off the syllables like honey, and the sound sent a familiar shiver down my spine. I’ve heard this voice before. In my nightmares.
My stomach clenched as a buzzer went off in my head. Run! It yelled.
I turned on my heel, intending to dart out of her as fast as I could in my stilettos. But, instead of an opening towards the empty hallway, I was met with the mouth of a gun in my face.
Behind it, the hostess stood, her once kind smile replaced with an apathetic frown. The newfound daggers in her eyes delivered a silent message. Don’t move.
I gritted my teeth as I reluctantly froze in place.
The man’s chuckle echoed through the room again, closer this time.
Behind me, a novel warmth brushed against my back. Fingers slowly curled over the collar of my trench coat and gripped the fabric.
His breath caressed my ear as he leaned in close. “Stay awhile,” he whispered as he slowly dragged the coat down my arms. “Have dinner with me.”