We talked about first-day plans over drinks. Thirty minutes later, I looked at the time, remembering I had a date at my office.
“We can talk more as the days go by, but I have another meeting to attend.”
“Okay, but don’t leave without this.” He slid a black envelope to me.
I opened it.
“The first 500 grand. Congrats,” he said.
I damn near wanted to cry. “Thank you so much for this opportunity and for even considering my company. We won’t let you down,” I said it like a promise.
“I know you won’t. Go handle your business.”
I took my flowers and unopened champagne for Laila and me later.
I walked out of his office still holding the envelope, the weight of it sitting different in my hand. Not heavy… just real.
I got in my car and sat there for a second before pulling off, my phone lighting up on the seat next to me.
His name popped up.
Marcus. My date I didn’t match with.
I had told Malik after our first date that we didn’t match. It wasn’t forced, it just didn’t feel like something I needed to keep going. He didn’t argue it, didn’t press me about it either.
He just kept texting me.
Not all day. Not doing too much. Just enough to stay present.
A check-in here.
A joke there.
A “you ate yet?” that didn’t feel like small talk.
He never moved like he was trying to convince me. He moved like he already knew I was going to circle back.
And I did.
I don’t know when I decided to give him another chance. Maybe it was how consistent he was without being annoying. Maybe it was how easy it felt to talk to him when I wasn’t trying to figure him out.
Or maybe I just liked that he didn’t need me to like him right away.
Either way, I told him to pull up to my office.
He said he had something planned, so I told Laila to let him in.
I pulled up to my office expecting him to already be there, and he was. He had the table set up with steak dinners, candles low, nothing over the top, just enough to show he planned it. Laila wasn’t there, which I already knew she wouldn’t be. This was my space right now.
He stood when I walked in, eyes going straight to the flowers in my hand before they came back to me.
“I guess I’m too late,” he said, holding up the bouquet he had brought.
I set mine down on the desk. “You not late. These ain’t what you think.”
He glanced at them again. “So what are they?”
“Congratulations,” I said simply. “Business.”
