He smirked. “This is it.”
Inside, it was cozy. Walls the color of butter, a few locals sipping coffee and reading newspapers like it was still 1998. He greeted every employee by name. “Morning, Miss Shirley. What’s up, Big Tony? Tell your mama I still want that gumbo recipe.”
They all smiled at him like he was family.
I didn’t say anything. I was there for the vibes. It was his city, his world. I told myself to just shut the fuck up and go with the adventure.
Still, I couldn’t help but whisper, “This… isn’t what I pictured.”
In my head, I was expecting some lit brunch spot with a DJ in the corner, girls in matching sets passing out mimosas and pretending to take orders between twerking breaks. But that place smelled like cornbread and tradition.
Before I could say anything else, an older woman came from behind the counter and walked straight to Maison with a smile. “Baby, I ain’t seen you in weeks.”
He stood up and hugged her tight. “You know I had to come through eventually, Miss Geneva.”
She patted his cheek and said, “Someone’ll be with y’all shortly to take your order.”
“Appreciate you,” he said, grinning.
We sat, and when I looked up, he was already watching me.
“What?” I asked, pretending to focus on the menu that was laminated and slightly sticky.
He leaned back, smirking. “You thought I was gonna take you to one of them brunch spots you see all over social media, huh?”
I tried to play it cool. “I mean… maybe a little.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah. You’re in my city now. I’m showing you the places that live in the culture. The spots the locals go that tourists know nothing about.”
I smiled, resting my chin on my hand. “Noted. I just hope the food is good.”
A middle-aged woman with big hair and bigger energy walked up to our table holding a notepad. “Morning, y’all. Hey, Maison, baby. How’s your grandma doing?”
“She’s good,” he said, smiling that easy smile again. “Still fussing at everybody like she runs the city.”
The woman laughed. “That sounds like her.” Then she turned to me with a warm grin. “And who’s this pretty thing?”
“This my new friend,” he said, gesturing my way. “She’s from out of town. I’m giving her a tour of our city today.”
Her smile widened, eyes twinkling. “Oh, you’re in for a time, baby. Maison knows all the good spots, especially the ones that’ll get you in just enough trouble.”
I laughed, and Maison just shook his head like he’d been caught.
She glanced between us. “Y’all wanna order, or you want me to just hook her up with our favorites?”
“Yeah, hook us up,” he said without hesitation. “And make sure she’s got a water too. Her taste buds might lose their mind from all this flavor.”
I pretended to roll my eyes, grinning. “Wow, not too much now.”
The woman laughed, tapping his shoulder with her order pad. “I gotcha, handsome. Coming right up.” Then she walked off, humming to herself.
Maison leaned back in his chair, that same faint smirk on his face. “You trust me yet?”
I tilted my head, pretending to think. “Not entirely. But the smell in here is making a strong case.”
“Good answer,” he said, stretching his arms out. “I told you, you won’t find this place on social media, but you’ll remember it longer than any of those fancy spots.”
“Noted,” I said, smiling at him. “If I end up loving it, I’ll make sure to post it on my Instagram just to piss you off.”
