I took a deep breath and looked at the frown lines on her forehead. I chuckled.
“The person that I chose was Dr. Long.”
She sat back like I had knocked the wind out of her. I probably had. I could only hope that she wasn’t about to return the favor when the confusion on her face turned to something that resembled anger.
“As in… my son’s father, Quentin?” She clarified.
“Yeah.”
“Breeze, you do know that this little bitty piece of paper wouldn’t stop me from stuffing this table down your throat, right?” Her tone caught me by surprise.
“I sure as hell hope so, I’m not that hungry,” I answered honestly, which made her exhale and laugh loudly. She held her side and laughed while I found no amusement in her threat. Maybe this is why Quentin said, "Good luck.” He clearly knew something that I wasn’t privy to.
“Did you tell him you were going to ask me this?”
“He told me good luck.”
She wiped her eyes but laughed harder.
“I’m sorry, you just caught me by surprise. Maybe a decade ago, this would have gone really badly for both of y’all. Quentin and I haven’t been together in that way in years. We coparent without all that funny shit. I don’t know if I want to cross those boundaries or blur the lines. But trust me, I understand you wanting to double back. Even when we were in our twenties, his dick should have been in the Hall of Fame.” She shook her head at the thoughts that I’m sure crept into her mind, then chuckled.
“I know it’s a lot to think about…you don’t have to answer today. But we have less than a month if you decide to come along.”
The waitress interrupted me and came back over with our food and started setting plates on the table. We tabled the discussion and began eating. At first, it was awkward, but we both relaxed and started discussing other things. I don’t know why I still felt uneasy; it could be because every time I took a bite of salmon, I was thinking about how it could have been the table instead.
In the middle of the conversation, she checked the time on her watch.
“I have to get back to the office, Breeze. Thank you for the invitation to lunch. This is a sticky situation, and I can’t makeyou any promises. I’ll think about it and get back to you if that’s okay?”
“Sure, thank you for coming.”
“No problem,” she said as she called the waitress over, gave her a tip, and then walked away from the table.
I pulled out my phone to text Quentin.
Me: So, I asked Shareese, and she told me she’d make me eat the table we were sitting at. Why would you let me do this?
Quentin: Damn, I’m more surprised she didn’t follow through.
I sucked in a sharp breath and then looked up just as Shareese was about to get in her car. She gave me another bright smile before she got in the driver’s seat and pulled away from the curb. She always seemed so polite and welcoming. What the hell had she done to him?
I knew the time for Quentin, and I was winding down. Although Tim and I had agreed that the encounters didn’t have to be a one-time thing for us, mentally, I had decided that it would be the last time that I saw Quentin. The lust that settled between us was thick. So thick that it made me nervous. The next time that we saw each other, no matter how hard my body fought against me, I knew that it would be the last time.
Quentin
Throwing my bags and suitcases into the trunk, I slid into the back seat of the black truck that was waiting outside my townhouse.
The driver pulled away from my residence to go meet Breeze at the airport. She had decided that she wanted to go to Turks and Caicos and ran up a tab on me. A Villa on the beach, first-class seats, dinner reservations, excursions, private transportation, and a butler for the weekend. But it’s cool, I wouldn’t have done anything less. Not to mention the fact that by the time her ass left this island, I would be repaid in full. Hell, she might even owe me.
I chuckled and sent her a message letting her know that I was on my way. We had been communicating much more since she texted me to ask if I was busy. It was mostly about the arrangements. Taking a trip together out of the country required more than just dropping a time and location.
Although she had given me all the other details, I still didn’t know what she and her husband had decided on. I had beenwaiting until we got together to ask her that. Shit, at this point, it affected me too, and I needed to know how to proceed.
We pulled up to the airport, and I got out. She responded that she had already boarded as I was going through TSA.
By the time I found her, she was reclined, under a blanket, watching Poetic Justice with a glass of wine in her hand. We didn’t have a long flight; it was just a little over five hours. I took the seat beside her.
“Hi, Quentin,” she spoke as she sipped from her drink and glanced at me for just a second, letting her eyes fall back to the screen.
