Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 142866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“It’s Collipark,” she says, her grin mischievous. “If you’re really ATL.”
“You weren’t even born here,” I tease.
“Most people aren’t, but this feels as much like home as anywhere in the world.” Her smile melts away. “It’s hard to imagine living back in my small town in North Carolina, but I will while my aunt recovers. I’d move my mom here if she’d let me.”
Ms. Pearl returns to the table to take our orders, and I note Hendrix gets an extra All-Star meal. I guess she is hungry, but I know better than to comment on the food a woman orders. None of my business.
“Thank you for taking time from your self-care night to come out with me,” I say.
“What was I supposed to do? Let you end up in some bougie restaurant with perfectly prepared steaks and a Michelin star when all this”—she sweeps an arm to encompass the grease-splattered chaos of the Waffle House—“could be yours?”
“You saved me.”
She dips her head graciously. “You’re welcome. What would you do without me?”
I actually hadn’t planned to accept the invitation from Ezra Stern for tonight’s fundraiser, but then I saw the Black Business post yesterday, capturing Zere on what is, as far as I know, her first date since our breakup. Bolt sent me a link to the post. No comment, of course. A man of few words except when I want his ass to be quiet. Then he’s always got shit to say.
Seeing Zere dating freed something up inside me. It further settled that I’m ready to move on with the woman seated across from me. I don’t care that I’m probably the last man she should date if she wants to work with Zere. I don’t care that it might require us both to sacrifice and make compromises. If she’s willing, so am I. And I won’t know if she’s willing if I don’t try.
“What’re you thinking about so hard?” Hendrix asks, slanting a look at me from under long lashes.
“How pretty you look without makeup,” I say. Her face turns as close to bashful as a women this bold can be. “I mean, you look pretty with it, too, of course, but you have such a natural glow.”
“It’s melanin,” she laughs, lowering her head and running a finger along the raggedy edge of the aged booth table. “And my glass-skin care routine. That doesn’t hurt.”
“Well, it’s working. You look about nineteen.”
“Now you lying.” She rolls her eyes and grins.
“Since we’re talking about age…” I venture. “Did Zere invite you to her fortieth birthday party next week in New York?”
The sweet curve of her lips levels, the openness of moments before replaced by a guarded expression.
“She did,” Hendrix says, still not looking up at me.
“You going?”
The silence gathering between us is weighted by all the words and sentiments we haven’t spoken; things I’d like to say tonight, if she’ll listen. If she’ll let me.
“Um, I’m still deciding,” Hendrix answers, finally glancing up from the table and finding my eyes with hers. “You?”
I sense that my answer will impact hers. If I’m attending, I can bet my Bugatti that she won’t.
“I don’t think so.” I shrug. “Not that it would be awkward. She and I are on good terms.”
It’s technically true. Things are still a little tense between Zere and me, but damn. She invited me to her party.
“Just busy?” Hendrix asks.
“I think I’m on the West Coast that weekend,” I lie.
“Oh, gotcha.” I can’t interpret her look as relief or disappointment.
“You joined the four-oh club yet?” I ask.
“Yup. You?”
“Last year. Zere invited maybe two hundred of my ‘closest’ friends for a party at the house in Miami.” I flash a wry grin. “How ’bout you? You do anything special?”
There’s reminiscence in her extended sigh. “My fortieth birthday was amazing. I flew me and my besties Soledad and Yasmen to Dubai. It was spectacular. Spared no expense, drank like a fish.”
Defiance enters her eyes. “Hooked up with anything breathing.”
“Good for you,” I reply neutrally. Is she saying that to put me off? I don’t care who she fucked before. Once I have her, all other pussies and dicks will be laid to rest. “It was just the three of you?”
“That’s all I needed. I’m closer to them than anyone. My other friends in Atlanta threw me a huge party, but forty was big for me. I wanted to turn up, yes, but I also wanted to reflect. Yas and Sol are the full range of friendship.”
“You guys grew up together?”
“You’d think, but no. We’ve only known each other a few years. We met in a yoga class and just clicked. I knew very soon after we met that these were my people, and we’ve only gotten closer year after year.”
“You said they have kids.” I raise my voice a little to be heard over the group singing Keyshia Cole’s “Love” at the other end of the dining room.