“Wow, thank you. And I’m over that night.”
I let a small smile pull at the corner of my mouth, a little caught off guard by how good it felt to say that. To mean it.
“Have I ever told you what I like about you?” I asked, voice dipping low.
“I didn’t know you liked me.”
“Man, stop.” I rubbed the back of my neck, almost embarrassed by how easy it was to fall into her rhythm. “You know what I mean.”
Truth is, I wasn’t used to liking anybody, not like this. Most of what I did was convenience, control, and expectation. But with her, it was something else.
“My standards,” she guessed. “That’s what it is, right?”
“Nah.” I shook my head slowly. “Your mouth. Smart. Slick. But not reckless.”
She tilted her head, studying me, that grin still flirting around her lips. “Yet.”
I chuckled. “Don’t test me, Coco.”
Her laugh this time was softer. Slowly, she was letting me into a part of her nobody else got. She looked down, pushed her salad around her plate like she needed to regroup. I sat still, letting the moment breathe, but not too long.
Then she hit me with, “What about you? What’d you want before all this?”
My brow rose. “All what?”
She gestured between us. “This. Life. Power. The business.”
I exhaled, thumb brushing the rim of my cup, not answering right away. She was asking real shit. The kind of questions that didn’t have neat little answers. And the way she was looking at me—like she actually cared about what I said—made it worse.
“I was born into this,” I said finally. “Didn’t have much of a choice. Pops built it, and I had to either keep it running or let it fall. I thought I wanted to make him proud. Be better than him. But lately…”
I paused, staring down at my plate.
“I been wondering if any of it matters if I can’t even enjoy the shit. What’s the point of building something if it owns you?”
She didn’t jump to fill the silence. She sat with it, met me where I was. “So enjoy it,” she said softly. “You got the money. The freedom. The penthouse. You’ve earned that, haven’t you?”
“Maybe,” I muttered, my eyes drifting back to her. “But money don’t mean peace. And it damn sure can’t buy you happiness.”
“Maybe not,” she said with a shrug, lips curling into a half-smile, “but a nice pair of heels never made me unhappy.”
We both laughed a little at that. Her eyes warmed, like she was starting to see me past what she’d heard. She reached across the table, she was gonna touch me, then pulled back and picked up her drink instead. I leaned back in my chair, exhaling through my nose, needing a little space to reset.
She was still figuring me out. Still trying to decide if I was worth the risk. And me? I was doing the same damn thing. Every time she spoke, she gave me a piece of herself, sharp, soft, smart, sweet, and I wanted to return the favor. But I’d never been the type to open up. Never saw the point in it.
Until now.
Sitting here with her, watching the way she listened when I talked, the way she didn’t judge or try to fix anything, just heard me—I was starting to understand what I’d been missing. What it felt like to want someone to know you, really know you, instead of just the version you showed the world.
But wanting something and being ready for it were two different things. And I wasn’t sure I was ready for what she was making me feel.
She adjusted in her seat, her movements small but intentional; she’d read the room, caught the shift in my energy, and decided not to press. That awareness, that respect for my boundaries even when I was pulling back—it just made me want to lean in more.
“My girl is ready for me at the boutique,” she said, folding her napkin with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Let’s go, chauffeur.”
We didn’t say much on the way out. She walked a little ahead of me, but slowed once we hit the lot. I opened the door for her without thinking, and she slid in with a quiet “thank you”.
The boutique was private, with curved mirrors and champagne flutes. I sat on a cream-colored chair in the back, legs spread, arms folded, pretending not to watch her. But I was. Every time she disappeared behind that curtain, I found myself waiting to see what version of her would come out next. I was silently snapping pictures of her. Weird ass shit because I didn’t have any photos in my gallery that weren’t of her.
