“Hey, you,” he spoke. “You look good as hell.”
“Thank you.” I returned his smile, pulling my glasses off.
When the host walked away, he leaned in for a hug. I allowed it up until he angled his mouth toward my neck. Pulling back before he could stake claim to something I hadn’t offered him, I flashed a look that said he tried it.
His smile faltered a bit before he recovered. “My bad, boo.”
“Mmhmm. You good. Now you know,” I politely warned, hoping he remembered not to try it again at the end of the date.
He helped me out of my coat and pulled out my chair. Making sure I was pushed in comfortably, he slid my coat on the back of the chair before taking his seat. We ordered drinks and an appetizer to start. Falling into conversation was easy but felt oddly familiar. Almost too familiar. Like he was running down a checklist of what we’d already talked about via text over the last couple weeks.
“So, you’ve been managing the diner for…”
“A year.” I cut him off.
“Right.” He nodded. “That’s dope. You looking to own yo’ own restaurant one day?”
It took so much restraint not to roll my eyes. “No. I mentioned that to you over text, remember? I love what I do, but I’ll be going into business for myself soon.”
“Oh, yeah. You did mention that. My bad. AirBnB host, right?”
“Something like that.” I sipped my drink, annoyed that his description of my business venture seemed small.
There was an awkward silence that was cut short by the waitress placing our appetizer on the table.
“Enjoy,” she said.
We snacked on spinach artichoke dip, and he picked the conversation back up. Every question he’d asked was one that I remembered from our text thread. Every joke he tried to get off,I’d fake laughed about already. Same cadence as if he’d practiced his delivery before arriving. The shit was exhausting, and I was struggling to stay present.
Realizing that my interest had long ago wavered, I finished off my drink and started to excuse myself to go to the ladies’ room. Before I could, the host made an announcement to the dining room.
“Excuse me,” he announced over the chatter and clinking glass. “If you’re the owner of a white Lexus ES with the license plate ending in 2501, your vehicle is being towed.”
My head whipped in the direction of the front door, stomach hitting my feet. That was my car. I jumped up and beelined to the exit, leaving behind my purse and phone. Pushing the door open with heavy aggression, a scream got caught in my throat when I saw my car halfway on the flatbed of a tow truck. The name Sullivan Towing was big as day on the side of it. Standing alongside of it was Pryce.
Pryce was Aura’s cousin and the meanest Sullivan I’d ever met. At least that was how he always appeared. Stone faced. A man of few words and even fewer smiles. I usually kept my interactions with him limited when he came to the diner to avoid possible confrontation. But tonight, tonight he had me fucked up. I was ready to go toe to toe with him about my car.
“Pryce! What the hell…”
He looked up with a scowl on his face. “Not in the mood.”
I wanted to say, “You never in the mood, grouchy ass nigga. What else is new?” But I held back, watching, as he reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone.
“You think I give a damn about you being in the mood, Pryce? Put my car down!”
“Call your man,” he said, handing the phone to me. “Last number on the call log.”
My jaw clenched and so did my ass cheeks. I was so furious. If looks could kill, Pryce would be outta here. “That ain’t my man,” I said, snatching the phone from him.
“Danae, I’ll roll over this fuckin’ car so quick, that nigga won’t have no choice but to buy you a new one. Don’t make this difficult. Make the call.”
I knew he wasn’t playing, so I didn’t respond. Hitting Aura’s number, the phone rang once before he answered.
“You found the car?”he asked casually.
“Every time I think you can’t get any worse, you outdo yourself. Why the hell do you have Pryce ass out here towing my car, Aura?!”I snapped.
“You ever asked me if I like Italian food, bae?”His tone was calm, further enraging me.
