Chapter 10
I was out on the floor, dressing a mannequin with new inventory, trying and wishing for a distraction. It was no use, though, my mind was hung up on Ezekiel and our picnic. He hadn’t called, or texted me since dropping me off, but that was okay. I needed to think.
After he’d kissed my forehead and swore off anything physical until we knew what we wanted, we’d settled down and began packing up the food to go.
We worked in silence as the music continued to play, and it wasn’t awkward, but comfortable.
Calm. Familiar in a way. Once or twice, he snuck a look at me and smiled and I did the same.
Ezekiel didn’t do commitment or relationships, but he was, above all, a gentleman.
Points for that, I guess.
Quickly, I snapped out of my daydream, coming to just in time to watch an older woman with a shaved head walk up to one of our floor-length mirrors and model her outfit from different angles.
She’d picked out a blush-colored jumpsuit with a plunging neckline.
Her body was goals and her girls were sitting.
Her tall height only served to complement the elegant evening wear.
“Oh wow, your body is to die for,” I had to let her know.
She snuck me a clever smile. Her glasses did nothing but illuminate the spark in her eyes.
“It better be,” she remarked. “I don’t spend five days a week in the gym for nothing.”
“I know that’s right,” I said.
The woman turned to me, seeking approval. “I’m going to brunch with my girlfriends, too much?”
My face morphed into distaste. “Too little. What that outfit needs is mile-high stilettos and at least a bangle or two on your wrists, with matching earrings. We love a statement.”
“That we do.” She winked at me. “Be right back to purchase.”
I abandoned my mannequin and scanned the sales floor, finding other shoppers here and there, and Paisley at the register checking out a line. Deciding my latest modeling project could wait, I went and opened up our second register to help out.
The day breezed by with the steady flow of business we had.
It was almost the weekend and a lot of women were gearing up to go out and kick it, be it here in Belmont, or out in Atlanta.
Me, I was narrowing down movies to watch for Nasty Noir.
My subscribers were loving my review of The Godfather trilogy, some even jokingly calling me out on admiring the third and “choosing” to love Part I over Part II.
“Okay, so run this back for me.” Paisley was being nosey as we hit a dry spell that Thursday afternoon after our morning rush. “He takes you to Stokely Park for a handmade picnic, and then nothing happened?”
“Nope,” I blew out as I finished with my mannequin. It was summer, so I styled her in a thin spaghetti-stringed dress, a gold ankle bracelet, and some cute sandals. Soft and delicate never went out of style. “We’re still debating on being friends, or going there for one night.”
Paisley’s silence had me turning and catching her at the back counter eyeing me like I’d presented her with a complicated calculus equation.
“Girl.” She eyed her cell phone in her hands and shook her head.
“He DM’d me earlier during the rush. We’re having brunch tomorrow morning to finalize this Ladies’ Night thing. I love that he was serious.”
While I didn’t really know Ezekiel, something told me serious was his MO. He was almost thirty, and while some men in their twenties were intent to never grow up, I was glad Ezekiel was far from that stage in his life.
“Nice. Paisley strikes another deal,” I said.
“Speaking of,” she began as she came around the counter and sauntered over to me. “I asked around about your Don Juan.”
A man of Ezekiel’s stature, naturally he did have a reputation. “And?”
We both settled on to the gray suede swivel chairs on the right side of Shéc. There was only so long before business picked back up and we would get our asses kicked. A rest was needed.
“The report is in.” She made a face, waggling her brows as if she had major tea. Paisley didn’t gossip much, so this I had to hear.
“I’m quaking with excitement,” I joked.
“My girl Deja has a cousin who spent some time with Mr. Marcuson.”
“That his last name?”
Paisley nodded. “Oh yeah.”
“What’s the verdict?” I dared to ask.
With a straight face, Paisley said, “He’s a demon.”
I gulped. “Yikes.”
Pity soaked Paisley’s features as she went on. “Yep, ol’ girl said the dick is immaculate. I’m talking grade A, prime, soul-mate dick.”
I went through my mental rolodex for the terms I knew by heart already.
Boyfriend/Husband Dick: Average or above average peen, enjoyable and satisfying for long-term relationships. Dick you can take every day.
One-Night Stand Dick: Well-endowed. Enjoyable for one mind-blowing night, but takes days to prepare for and days to recover after use. Can be painful at times. Strictly Size-Queen material in the long run.
But “soul-mate dick”?
“And what’s that mean?” I had to know.
Paisley grinned nice and big. “Soul-mate dick: where it’s big, not painful, and he knows how to use it. Life-ruining dick.”
Well-endowed but not painful? I was curious about that. I liked big guys, but I liked my cervix more.
“You ever hear something that sounds too good to be true?” I wondered.
“Oh, I hear you. But hearing the story how I heard it confirms it for me.” Paisley chuckled.
“Deja said her cousin was gone over Ezekiel. Unlike most men, he’s a pleaser—won’t stop until you get yours first. The cousin had to block his number and cut him off cold turkey because it’s too good not to get attached.
It’s the fact that he plays the field and she knew she’d end up sharing that made her cling to the last bit of her senses. ”
Damn. Ezekiel’s rap sheet was enough to go through with the one-night stand.
Paisley stood up, going and collecting the mail from the mailman as he was walking by our front windows. He only handed her a catalogue before carrying on down the strip.
“Sounds like a wet dream, but the details are too good to pass up,” Paisley said with a shrug.
“I definitely like what I heard. A man that’s a pleaser? Might as well be a damn unicorn.”
“Heard you! There’s nothing worse than when he’s hung and doesn’t know how to use it, or he’s selfish and just cares about his own release. The type that fucks you with the jackhammer technique.” Paisley shook real fast as if she was having a convulsion to emulate the style she despised.
It was partly funny, but then it wasn’t. That’s when sex got painful, when he was packing but went too fast and didn’t care about your satisfaction. “Ugh. I hate the jackhammer move.”
“That’s why I like it when I’m on top. But, I gotta say, Ezekiel sounds like a good time,” Paisley admitted. “The type that makes being a pillow princess rewarding.” She threw her head back and pretended to moan out. “Yes, Daddy, worship me.”
While I didn’t mind lying back and taking all the pleasure I could get, one look at Ezekiel sent my thoughts to dirty places. “Yeah, but look at him.”
Paisley sat back down beside me. “True, that is one big piece of chocolate you want to slowly melt in your mouth.”
She had no idea. He said all the right things and he had the looks, and twice now he’d aroused me to the point of going to bed angry and horny.
Paisley regarded me solemnly and sternly. “You’re my girl and I care about you. I’m always going to keep it one hundred and tell it like it is.” She wagged her finger for added effect. “Life is short.”
“That it is.”
“He’s not long-term material, at all. He isn’t ‘the one’ for you.”
My shoulders sagged at the blunt truth of it all. “No, he isn’t.”
“Sometimes you meet people and they are who they already are. You can’t change a person.”
“I know.”
“So, take it for what it is. The world could end tomorrow, so get the dick today, sis!” Paisley chastised as she whacked me with her catalogue. “And then when you’re done, move on. Simple.”
It could all be so simple. Why was I making a science out of this? It was nature. Primal instinct. Practically guaranteed good sex.
The trouble was, while it wasn’t yet deep, I did already like Ezekiel. I liked talking to him. I liked his manners and persona. Did I really want to waste him on a one-night stand? Could we just be cool friends?
I was back at square one. Not knowing what was best for me, although my conscience had an idea.
“You ever been in love?” I wondered.
“Once,” Paisley admitted, holding up a single digit.
She soon looked off, losing herself in a vivid memory, it seemed.
“Years ago. Sloan Strickland. You know how everyone goes on about ‘my person, my person.’ That’s what Sloan was to me.
I could be a real moody bitch at times because of some class or whatever, and he’d just be super patient with me.
He remembered things about me. Was attentive and intentional.
He made me let go and be soft and vulnerable with him.
He kept me safe. Everything clicked and made sense.
“Hell, I knew it was love because we used to have morning sex, his chest to my back—to avoid bad breath. But sometimes he didn’t care because we were that close and he loved all of me that much.”
I chuckled. “Oh-kay.”
“I’m serious. When they’re willing to put up with your funky breath for that a.m. round, that’s something.”
When I’d dropped out of college, there was a period in my life where I wasn’t keeping up with Paisley that closely while she’d been figuring out her own shit. I tried remembering and picturing Sloan and came up with a blank. “So, what happened?”
Now Paisley was sad, her features turning down as her gaze fell to the floor.
“We were twenty. There was so much we didn’t know, so much to still experience and learn.
Nobody cheated or anything, but there was growing resentment.
He had serious FOMO. He thought I was holding him back and he was missing out on everything, and I believed he was mine, that no one else could have him.
“My parents loved Sloan as much as I did, and they like to believe we were too young and fell into each other at the wrong time.” Paisley twisted her mouth to one side, her eyes suddenly glassy.
“I used to hate that reasoning because I thought that if it were real, right, and true, then time couldn’t faze us.
Boy, was I wrong. That’s actually the only time I’ve been in love, and trust me, that shit hurt like a motherfucker. ”
“You ever see him around sometimes?” This whole relationship was news to me, especially considering the vulnerable side of Paisley I hardly ever saw.
She gave a limp shrug. “I’m thankful that Belmont is as big as it is and as busy, because I don’t know what I would do or how I would react if I did see him. I can eat through a man like it’s nothing, but Sloan? That’s the one before the walls went up.”
I knew that feeling all too well. At least, Paisley had fallen for a great guy before things went sour. What I had with Corey wasn’t anything worth looking back on, because the memories didn’t compare.
Corey was as worse as they got. The type that sent I Love You texts in invisible ink.
“Ugh, enough about the past. We should go out to the club tonight. BLVCKJVCK is having a strictly R&B night.” Paisley shot back up and wined her body to a song I didn’t hear. “I’m in the mood for somethin’ slow.”
“Don’t you gotta get up early in the morning for a business meeting?” I teased.
Paisley calmed down. “In that regard, so does he.”
BLVCKJVCK was tempting, but with talk of Ezekiel’s capabilities, and my own desire already building, I didn’t trust myself to go to the club so soon. I knew in the back of my mind that I was itching to bed him, but painfully, I had to decide on when.