Chapter 8 #3
Ezekiel bobbed his head as he settled down across from me. “Some people use tuna in their recipes, but I like salmon.”
“Love salmon,” I agreed.
He ate some of his own salad, chuckling at me. “I’m really happy you like it.”
I licked my lips and grabbed a croissant. “I guess you do keep your promises.”
A cocky look passed over his face and I liked it.
“I’m pretty low key, so this is perfect for me,” I told him. “I always love passing this place by, so I’m happy I finally get to experience it.”
“Same,” Ezekiel said. “I’m always on the go, and even when I plan to jog here, I never come through. Guess there’s a first time for everything.”
I raised my champagne in agreement. “Definitely.”
“So, low key, huh?” he pressed further.
Otherwise known as boring to some, but I was comfortable in my routine. “All I need is an ice-cold beer and a good movie.”
“Solid,” Ezekiel seemed to agree. “So, let’s hear it about The Godfather.”
I paused in my eating, getting excited to talk about Coppola’s masterpiece. Ezekiel had been right. If I ever got a second boy cat, I would definitely have to name him Coppola.
“Okay—”
“Wait,” Ezekiel cut in. “You gotta pinch your fingers together like the Italians to talk about The Godfather.”
It was goofy, but I did it.
“I loved Sonny. He was my favorite. I really fucking needed the ending on Part I. But Michael? I knew, I just knew. He had this crazy look in his eye from the beginning. I’m not sure if it’s due to Pacino—fucking Pacino!
” I had so much to say and there weren’t enough letters in the alphabet to help me form words to describe all that I felt.
“Part I is my favorite, but I do love them all.”
Ezekiel appeared quizzical as he grabbed a croissant and some cheese. “Even III?”
For years I’d heard about how The Godfather Part III sucked, but really, I didn’t see it that way.
I was too caught up in the whole vibe the trilogy gave to see anything to complain about.
Well, okay, the third one needed Robert Duvall, but his absence wasn’t enough to make me wash my hands of the film.
“Yeah, Andy Garcia really channeled the hothead mentality James Caan had,” I said.
Ezekiel shook his head. “There was literally no plot to that movie.”
“So…? It was an experience.”
He chuckled and it made me laugh, too. It was going to take me a while to write up my review of the saga for Nasty Noir. I’d jotted down notes on my Notes app already, but there was so much I could say. Pacino was a GOAT, and of course, so was Robert De Niro in Part II.
I ate some more of my salad, wholly wanting to just stuff my face. Ezekiel was a damn good chef.
“So, what’s your all-time favorite movie then?” Ezekiel asked me next.
“Taxi Driver,” I confessed.
“Really?” He sounded surprised, and I supposed it wasn’t exactly an ideal film with its darker parts for some.
I took a moment to explain myself. “I don’t know, I just love the dive into a person’s loneliness and isolation. It’s relatable. Sometimes we all are experiencing our own existential crises.”
“That’s a deep way to look at it,” Ezekiel said.
“Lost in Translation’s another one,” I pointed out.
“Really?” Ezekiel wrinkled his nose, making a face. “Nothing really happens in that.”
“But something does. It’s about two lonely people who meet and connect at a point in their lives where they’re just lost and stuck.
” I sank back on my calves, beginning to speak with my hands.
“I guess I just really dig those films that study the theme of loneliness. They’re the most relevant.
To be really starved…” I felt my collarbone.
“…of human connection is a hunger like no other.” I blinked, trying to reel it in.
“Not that I’m one of those people who can’t be alone, at least, I don’t think I’m severe with it. ”
He perked a brow, hanging on to my every word. “No?”
“I went through this period where I was just in a bad place. I didn’t think anyone loved me, I didn’t think what I did mattered, I’d dropped out of school and I just kept thinking ‘what’s the point?
’ So, I ate really bad and just let myself go.
One day I went into a gym and I felt better.
What really turned me around was loving myself, because it wasn’t until I loved myself that I realized the kind of love I deserved. ”
Ezekiel smiled, amused. “I like that.”
“So, kinda like Travis did in the movie in a way.” I grabbed my champagne and took a big gulp. You’re doing the most, Nas! “I’m glad this isn’t a date because I’m blabbering.”
Ezekiel frowned, studying me. “I’m glad it’s not a date, because you wouldn’t be this open, this honest, this unguarded—relaxed. Most importantly, the conversation wouldn’t be this good. No pressure. No bullshit.”
He was being nice. I was totally rambling. “I’m talking too much.”
Ezekiel shrugged. “I like what you’re saying.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I want a link to your blog. I like how you interpret these movies beyond just liking or disliking them.”
“Okay.” I chuckled. “You talk now. Please. Save us.”
He laughed, and I could tell he wasn’t weirded out about my word vomit.
Good.
“What’s your favorite movie?” I asked.
“Vanilla Sky, it’s kinda devastating and sad though,” Ezekiel admitted.
I’d never seen it, but I knew it starred Tom Cruise. “Really? Then why do you like it?”
Ezekiel grew quiet for a minute to think. “I don’t know. Probably the same reason you like Taxi Driver. It makes you confront your loneliness, and Vanilla Sky makes me confront my choices.”
I grabbed my phone and made a note to watch it. “I’ll add it to my list.”
Quickly, I went back to the food, until I could take no more. I was stuffed. I’d eaten a lot, but I wanted to keep going because it all tasted so good. Only my body and stomach knew its limits.
Beyoncé’s “Rocket” was playing on the speaker. Leaning back on my arms, I stretched out my legs and just rejoiced in my contentedness.
Ezekiel grabbed a wet wipe and cleaned his hands before gathering my foot. He briefly admired my pastel pedicure set. “Clean hands for clean feet.”
In the next few seconds, he began massaging my foot and I couldn’t contain the moan that escaped from my lips. Mmm.
“Ohh, that feels good,” I let him know.
He smiled softly and kept working his magic. A girl could get used to this. I felt so good and full, I didn’t want to move.
“Ugh, I gotta work this all off at the gym tomorrow.” I groaned.
“Tell me the time and I’ll meet you there,” Ezekiel insisted.
A gym buddy wouldn’t be so bad. Paisley and I sometimes went together when our schedules were in sync. With the radio gig, or her dating life, sometimes she went at night opposed to my afternoon runs.
“What made you drop out of school?” Ezekiel asked suddenly, before I could answer about a gym meetup.
Beyoncé was going on and on, and Ezekiel was really working my foot with his strong, secure hands. Everything felt so easy and right. It wasn’t a hassle to open up. “I couldn’t find my niche. I didn’t want to study a career path that only equaled money, because that wasn’t enough to me.”
“No?”
I shook my head. “I just think that we should cherish the things money can’t buy, like happiness, love, and time. The essential goods for the soul, you know?”
“Now I’m starting to feel bad for chasin’ dead presidents,” Ezekiel joked.
No wonder he was so acclaimed at his age, he was focused. Not that I wasn’t with Shéc, but my soul craved more. I wasn’t ashamed to say I wanted to be loved and adored. That I wanted to love and adore back. That I wanted more in life than money.
“When you die, people aren’t going to speak about your money or the things that you bought, they’re going to speak about you. Money has no real value that life and experience does,” I said honestly. “I know that’s trite and childish, but I can’t help it.”
“You got a good heart, I can tell,” Ezekiel said as he concentrated on my other foot now. He cradled me gently and I liked that. “My mom and pops be gettin’ on me about slowing down, stopping and smellin’ the roses, but all I can think about is expanding and building.”
“All work and no play,” I scolded.
“Nah, I play,” he said, an edge to his voice that had me feeling hot. “Just not in the way he’d prefer.”
“Hmm.” His first and only passion was his work and money.
Not exactly an ideal partner in the long run.
But a test drive definitely wouldn’t hurt in the short term.
“As long as you’re responsible,” I threw out.
He didn’t have any kids, which was good for a man in his position, but safe sex was still a must.
“Always,” Ezekiel agreed. “I get tested every three months.”
My stomach knotted up at the thought. That was the first thing I did when I dumped my ex for the last time. He wasn’t faithful, and I wanted to fully be able to walk away without any more scars.
“What kind of store do y’all own?” Ezekiel brought up next, changing the subject, saving me from memory lane.
“A boutique called Shéc.” I grabbed my phone and thumbed through my photos to show him our storefront.
Ezekiel peered at my phone as I held it out. “Nice.” His eyes roamed up my bare legs and landed on my romper. “I like your steeze.”
“I try to make every outfit a project, that way our customers get inspired to buy similar pieces,” I explained.
“You got any men’s clothing?”
“No, it’s called Shéc because we sell women’s chic fashion.”
Ezekiel pretended to be offended. “Damn, that’s cold. Maybe I’ll go into fashion and open up a shop next door to cater to the men you’re discriminating against. Maybe I’ll call it Hém.”
“Oh really?” I challenged.
He nodded. “Maybe I’ll even sell a few I’m Hém T-shirts and hoodies.”
While it wasn’t a bad idea, I didn’t encourage him. But damn, we should’ve come up with a good pun for Shéc.
I cocked my head to the side, feeling playful. “What else are you going to sell? Clothes for old men?”
Ezekiel stopped massaging my foot, angling his head. “You saying I dress like an old man?”
I glanced at his neat outfit. “Yep.”
It happened in a blur.