Despite the doubt that swarms in the pit of my stomach, I still haven’t sent a cancellation text to Nicole.
“Let me get out of here. I need to arrive before this man so I can check for any red flags early. If he gives off any corny vibes, I’m leaving without speaking.” I grab my crossbody and keys before I walk out my front door.
My bedroom is in shambles, but so am I, so I reckon we match perfectly. The wide-leg jeans, white off-shoulder blouse, and denim booties give me a casual yet cute look. But my mind reels with so many thoughts that I doubt I had given my attire much scrutiny. It also isn’t lost on me that I have no clue what Nicole’s brother looks like nor do I know his name. That thought has me pausing after I lock my door to send a quick message to Nicole.
Me:
What’s your brother’s name? How will I know him? What does he look like? How did you let me go through this without having all the necessary information?
My questions are rapid as my brain spins with continuous assessments that I should have known or thought to ask before now.
“What the hell were you thinking, Jariyah? How is this any different than what Mom does to you?” I hang my head astightness settles within my shoulders, and my knees slightly shake.
Before I can berate myself anymore, a chime sounds from my phone, and I take a minute to read the new text from Nicole.
Nicole:Trust me, you’ll know him instantly. Enjoy. *winking emoji*
My breath hitches at the mystery within the message. I’m unsure whether it’s a threat or a promise. Since I have no background on Nicole’s words, I decide to shake it off and head to the diner to find out. With a slow pace, I walk to the elevator and step into the shaft when the doors open a second later. I quickly exit once we reach the bottom level. With hasty steps, I reach my SUV and get in before I leave the garage within five minutes.
A shaky breath slips from my mouth when I pull into the parking lot for Sizzling and Grubbing twenty-five minutes later. I take a second to pull down my visor to check my light makeup and add more lip gloss to my lips. Once I’m satisfied with my appearance, I exit my vehicle and head toward the entrance. My heart thumps like I just ran a five-mile race, and my pulse races with every step I take. This diner isn’t new to me, but my reason for being here tonight is totally different from the other times I've come.
When I enter, I fight the urge to overanalyze the scene, because something in the air feels different than in times past. But then again, maybe it’s me and the reason for my attendance. Coming here for a greasy smashburger or tuna melt is different than meeting an unknown man for a blind date. My hands perspire, and under my arms feel moist as I pray that my deodorant and perfume don’t betray me tonight.
“Will you be dining alone?” The hostess grumbles when I reach the desk.
“I-I’m meeting someone, actually. Can we have a booth, please?” I ask, thankful for finding my voice and the confidence I need to make my request.
“I guess,” the hostess says before she walks away without another word.
The statement catches me off guard, not only because of the snappy, short reply, but also because of the way it's phrased. But the unfamiliarity of this hostess, as I have never seen her before since I’ve been coming to this diner. Now that the time has come, I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. I’m not only about to meet but rub elbows with someone outside of my usual social circle. The thought almost tears at my insides as I fight to contain myself and the uncertainty within me. I close my eyes and give myself a silent pep talk.
You can do this. This is the first step in taking your life back. If you don’t go through with it, then Mom will continue using you as her matchmaking guinea pig. Take your dating life back. Keep an open mind. Keep it together, no matter who he is.
A fresh, fruity, smoky, and confident fragrance wafts into my nostrils, instantly causing me to open my eyes. I turn to my right and have to tilt my head back to take in the totality of the specimen that stands beside me. My breath hitches, my eyes bulge, and my legs clench upon initial assessment. The man is taller than I am, but that’s not what nearly staggers me. His height is a bonus. But my eyes are on the black leather vest that adorns his upper body, somewhat blocking me from taking in that part of him.
The name Righteous is on the left side of the vest while the right side is blank. He has tattoo sleeves on both arms, which makes me wonder whether they cover the entire surface since his black shirt blocks my view. On his left wrist sits a bracelet, and on the right is a watch. Two gold chains peek through the vest as my eyes continue upward to take in his face. He hasa full pristinely cut beard, a thick, suckable bottom lip, and a somewhat thin top lip. His hair is shaved on the sides, with four neat braids that flow just past his shoulders, as far as I can see from this angle.
“A-are you Nicole’s br-brother?” I stammer over my words when my eyes collide with the menacing honey brown eyes that match Nicole's.
Call me delusional. Call me thirsty. But what I will admit to is the moisture in my lower region the longer I take in this quiet giant. This man is mysterious, seemingly dangerous. But he is also hot as sin.
“Are you the naïve woman waiting on a blind date? Never mind, don’t answer that. The stench of your newness tells me everything I need to know.” The deep, low, and gravelly timbre of this man’s voice has me clenching my thighs.
Come on, Barry White Jr.
I could slap myself for the response given his less-than-stellar attitude.
“I—my name is Jariyah, not naïve woman,” I say in a shaky tone, not the result of fear like it should be.
Everything about this man at this first introduction should cause me to get up and run. But here I am, stuck to my seat as I fight the urge to squirm or alert him to my raging hormones. A low, humorless chuckle escapes his mouth like a whisper before he slides into the seat across from me.
“I see your eyes aren’t the only thing green about you. Damn, this might be fun. Are you interested in being one of our house mice?”
Good God! His voice! My word. He would definitely not pass the Mayor Owens test, nor would he receive her nod of approval as an eligible bachelor entitled to date me.
“House mice? What’s that?”
“See, that’s why your ass shouldn’t be on this side of town. Does your mommy know where you are, little Jariyah?” His tone is mocking, and it instantly grinds my gears.
