“Saying all the right things. It’s starting to be your pattern.”
I chuckled a little just as the server arrived again, this time holding a pen and pad.
“Are you all ready to order?” he asked, smiling too long at Noa.
“Do you mind if I order for you?” I asked.
“Ooh, that’s real gentleman-like. You’re trying to impress me, huh?”
“Not trying. Just doing.”
“Well, in that case, go ahead. Just no onions or mushrooms.”
“Noted. No onions or mushrooms. Anything else that’s a hard no?”
She shook her head and turned to the waiter, ready to be impressed.
“Alright, we’ll start with the firecracker shrimp and smoked salmon bites for our appetizer. She’ll take the Wagyu truffle burger, cooked to medium, and I’ll take the steak house stack cooked to medium rare.” I rambled off our order with ease and passed the menus back.
“Got it!” he said, squinting at me. “You ever get told you look like that one rapper? Ummm, dang. I forgot his name. The one who used to wear the ski mask.”
I shook my head. People alwaysalmostremembered me, and I never felt the need to explain who I used to be. As far as I was concerned, nobody needed to know who I used to be. That version of me was gone, and I wasn’t trying to resurrect him.
“Nah, I ain’t never heard that one,” I replied, and he stared at me like he wasn’t convinced.
“Man, I swear I know your face from somewhere.” He nodded slowly before he left us alone. I wasted no time putting my eyes back on Noa.
“You ever miss it?” she finally asked. “Being Quae Lo, making music, performing all over the world, being on top of the charts?”
“Sometimes.” I shrugged and reached for my glass. “I miss the creating part: being in the booth, making something outta a small idea, putting my story into the music.”
“And the fame?” she asked, tipping her head like she was studying me.
“I used to crave it. Everything they say about the music industry is true. It’s addictive. The fame just takes over your life until it’s damn near unrecognizable. I don’t know if I really miss that. All that shit just seems too loud and too fake now.”
She was quiet again, just sitting there, watching me with those beautiful, brown eyes like she wanted to say more, but I was glad she didn’t. This night wasn’t about my art; it was about hers.
“It was cool seeing you in your element tonight,” I said, changing the subject.
“It felt good,” she admitted. “I forgot what it felt like being in the spotlight for something other than?—”
“Lupus? Your chair?” I finished her sentence, and she gave me a tiny nod.
“Yes. Since I’ve been in this chair, it’s all anyone wants to know about. They act like it’s the most exciting thing about me.”
“It ain’t.” I reached under the table and grabbed her hand. “The most exciting things about you are the way you talk about color, about art, the way you get so still when you’re focused, the way you laugh.”
She bit her lip and looked away, like I couldn’t see the redness flushing over her cheeks. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” She smiled at me, and it was the only look I ever wanted to see on her face. We carried on, talking about anything and everything and flirting until the server reappeared with our food.
“Enjoy. Let me know if you need anything.” He set our food on the table and then disappeared again. I watched as Noa’s face lit up at the sight of the gourmet burgers that sat in front of us.
“How’d I do?”
“So far, so good.” She lifted the burger, and I watched as she took a bite. Her lips wrapped around the bun slowly, like she knew I was watching her, watching the juices from the burger glisten in the corners of her mouth.
“It’s messy.” She giggled. “But you did well.” She reached for a napkin, but I was already leaning over the table.
“I got you.” I swiped the corners of her mouth with my thumb. “Just good?” I teased.
