Chapter 15
H elping Miss Dot find Shira housing had gone from a favor to unwanted expectations and no compensation. Not only for me, but also for poor Milaya, who was burdened with relaying the messages she left for me.
The rec center is still closed. How do you expect kids to stay ‘outta trouble when they ain't got no outlet?
They shut down the free dance class at the rec center. That was the only thing keeping that wild girl sane. Now she’s running around with men my age.
Boys ain’t the only ones joining gangs. These girls are out here fightin’ like they’re in Mortal Kombat.
There’s a woman in building 12 whose boyfriend beats her like a drum. You need to send somebody over there and knock his ass around.
That new liquor store by the daycare ain’t right. Kids shouldn’t walk past drunks to learn.
Niesha’s cousin came out and the family got her on the street. Now that baby’s livin’ in a car. You claim to help women—help all of ‘em.
I don’t know how Treason did it because campaign season was kicking my ass.
His schedule was nonstop, filled with something to do or fix.
Always on the go from appearances to interviews, all while doing his day job.
I don’t know what Treason would do when I wasn’t around to make him put the iPad down.
Treason had been a lot less irritating since eating my pussy, going against everything my brain told me would happen if I were honest. The unfamiliar peace made me crave my old life with no expectations and solitude that felt safe.
What if we ... then I’d cut the thought at the knees. Treason might not be the monster I thought he was, but there was one still inside of him. After all, he was a politician through and through, making it hard to trust his soul-baring confessions.
Especially when he was between my legs, his scruffy voice speaking to my soul. Even the parts I hid.
You’re my Blue. My private addiction. The calm that makes me lose control.
You had that attitude for too long. Move your hand.
Why are you running from me, Blue?
I’ve been in hell missing you, and now you’re running from me, too.
You don’t have to trust the world, or even tomorrow. Just trust what you’re feelin’ right now.
Now I was daydreaming about us fucking instead of how to get the recreation centers more money before Miss Dot cursed me out. Thankfully, Daige came over to help because I had no idea what I was doing. But I was doing it, and Treason reminded me how proud he was this morning.
“All this hard work. Let’s hit happy hour after this,” Daige sighed after her last call.
“I’d love to, but it’s date night.”
“Aww, where are y’all going?”
“I don’t know. It’s a surprise.”
“Hmm, my favorite words.”
“You are crazy.”
“A lot of successful men think money is all they need to bring to the table. They’re so busy that they let the money compensate when they stop courting you and being appreciative. It makes up for all the patience and sacrifices, but it’s nice to see Treason isn’t one of them.”
“I honestly don’t know how he does it. I get tired just watching him.”
“You.”
“What?”
“You! Crazy,” Daige laughed, shaking her head like the answer was that obvious, “That’s how he does it.
You give him something to look forward to at the end of the madness.
That keeps him going. Keep making time for each other and don’t let bitches who wish they were in your spot trick you out of it. ”
Thandie. There were only so many ways to regurgitate the same old story. The news cycle was moving on, and she should’ve been thankful. I was seconds from making Ward take me to handle it myself.
“I hear you,” I replied, turning at the sound of the elevator. Seconds later, Treason stepped off.
“Hey Treason,” Daige laughed and Treason’s eyes grew curious reading the room.
“Ladies,” he greeted, leaning over the couch to kiss me. “I need you ready by seven.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You can’t be talking to me like that in front of company.”
“You see what I’m dealing with?”
“I let her off the hook because it’s date night, but I need to borrow her for girls’ night soon.”
“She’s all yours. Please take her,” he insisted.
“You wouldn’t last five minutes without me,” I scoffed, pretending to be offended, as he winked and disappeared into the back.
“Y’all are so cute.”
“He drives me nuts.”
“Oh, you think Abdul doesn’t drive me crazy all day?” Daige waved me off. “They’re all slow, especially the good ones. He knows it too, so he doesn’t fuss when he gets the credit card statements. I earned it.”
“Okay, where are we with sponsors, crazy lady?”
Her eyes lit up as she shared how she had locked down twenty grand in donations.
At this rate, we would meet the recreation center’s goal in no time.
Daige left, reminding me to text her tomorrow so she could hear all about my surprise.
After straightening the living room, I went to the guest room to put together a cute outfit.
I made the grave mistake of sharing a bed with Treason and now he refused to go back to separate beds.
I was behind schedule because I couldn’t decide on an outfit.
My shaky hands fucked up my mascara more times than I could count, putting us further behind.
Treason didn’t seem to mind and refused to give any hints.
With Morris acting like an anal asshole, it had been all work and no play lately.
Tonight, Treason was all smiles, standing at the dresser, clasping his watch.
“You look like you’re about to turn yourself in. Not head to date night with your man.”
“Tell me where we’re going. That’ll turn my frown upside down.”
“And miss the shock on your face when you realize it’s nothing I can’t do. Nah, Blue. Gotta ride the surprise out.”
“Tre.”
“Blue,” he mocked, causing my lashes to flutter, “Trust me. I got this.”
“I sure hope so, the way you’re bragging, but you look nice.”
“Preciate it, baby. I like that dress. Hopefully, I get to lift it later,” he flirted.
“You haven’t impressed me yet .”
“Let’s get to it then.”
We walked downstairs to Rylo, complimenting my dress. Treason joked that if he weren’t gay, he’d fuck him up the way he looked at me until I dragged him outside.
“Ward isn’t third wheeling tonight?” I asked, occupying the passenger seat.
“Nah, just me and you.”
He is showing off , I thought, watching him climb into the car.
“Put this on,” he said.
I frowned at the blind fold hanging from his finger.
“You’ve lost it! I’m not letting you blindfold me.”
Treason chuckled, pressing the gas dramatically so my back hit the seat.
“A blindfold is where you draw the line? Really?” he asked with too much sarcasm in his tone.
“I know you struggle to respect them, but it’s called a boundary ,” I sassed.
“You want your surprise or not?” Treason, asked, cutting the heart of the conversation.
Snatching the blindfold, I pulled it over my eyes, careful not to disrupt the natural glam I nailed tonight.
Treason turned the music up, anticipating a sarcastic response, but I didn’t have one.
I was too busy trying to calm my nervous system.
My hands were clammy, so I felt around the door until I heard the window creak.
The cool night air was a reprieve from the weight of my arms on my shoulders.
“Are we almost there?” I called out.
Treason’s hand landed on my thigh, strumming my skin with his thumb.
Control was comforting, and right now I had none, listening to Treason hum along until the car stopped.
I reached for the blindfold, eager for my nervous system to settle.
The sting of Treason popping my hand forced a frown that I’d have to wait longer for that.
He guided me from the car, strolling and reminding me to trust him every time my heel touched the pavement. Then we reached the steps, putting that trust to the test. Treason laughed as I took each step carefully, holding on to him like my life depended on it.
I snatched the blindfold off, prepared to be underwhelmed. Not because Treason wasn’t thoughtful or romantic. He only knew what I shared, and trauma didn’t allow me to share anything that would swing the pendulum.
Yet, I stood in the empty museum, soft jazz humming through the speakers, dim gallery lighting casting golden hues on polished floors. Treason followed, allowing me space to take it in. I rounded the corner and stopped short, seeing the Black Hollywood Exhibit.
My eyes swelled, turning around to Treason, who was wearing a cocky grin and had his hands tucked in his pockets.
“Checkmate,” he dipped down, kissing my lips. A one-word, simple reminder that Treason Westbrook didn’t lose. “Stop daring me to take care of you like I'm not the nigga for the job.”
I couldn’t consider myself a loser either. Not surrounded by images of legends, vintage playbills, and screen test footage playing on loop. Treason taught me a valuable lesson tonight. If a man wanted to, he would.
“No, seriously. How did you know?”
“Don’t worry about how .”
“Good evening, Mr. Westbrook and Miss Dixon,” the host bowed at us like Prince Harry and Meghan. “We have an hour before dinner is served.”
“Preciate it, we’ll take a tour until then.”
“My name is Jamie. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to let me know. It’s a pleasure to have you this evening, Mr. Westbrook,” Jamie excused herself, and Treason grabbed my hand.
Treason didn’t pick up the phone once. It remained in his pocket as he watched me rush from one exhibit to another. I was stuck until I reached the dress Dorothy Dandridge wore to the 1955 Academy Awards.
“I can’t believe I’m standing in front of Dorothy Dandridge’s dress,” I muttered.
“I dare you to touch it,” Treason whispered from behind, startling me. I was so focused that I didn’t even hear his footsteps.
“No! I’m not touching it,” I rushed out.
“You want to touch it so,” he urged, hitting my elbow.
“Stop!”
“Now you want to follow rules and shit,” he shook his head, disappointed.
“Time and place, Treason.”