“Sibley, no, miss. How about the Banana Foster Pancakes?”
“Excellent choice. I’ll be back shortly. In the meantime, enjoy these grapefruit mimosas.”
“Actually, I’ll just stick with water if that’s okay?”
“Certainly.”
The Chef stepped away as I took a sip of water, and I smiled. “You wanna let me know why you’ve been staring at me?”
“You said you don’t want me going all out for you. I’m an all-out kind of nigga, Sibley, so that ain’t gon work. Who gave you the bare minimum and got you thinking that shit cool?”
I blinked, completely caught off guard by how straightforward he was. “You really don’t have a filter.” I repositioned myself, trying to decide if I liked how direct he was or not.
“Don’t avoid the question.”
“You’re a millionaire, Kier. Of course, you have money and resources that a regular person can’t access.”
“What does that have to do with you accepting the bare minimum?”
“Everything.”
“It’s not about money and resources. You said you don’t want me going all out for you—as if somebody giving you everything they have is too much for you. “If a nigga got $10, you shouldn’t be willing to take $1 when he’s trying to give you $9.”
“What if I don’t need the $9 though? I take very good care of myself, Kier. I’m a marketing manager, easily getting a bag.”
“You still missing it. It’s not about what you need, it’s about what I’m choosing to do. And you not about to fight me on that. Relax Sibley, kick it with me. This doesn’t have to be difficult or scary.”
“Kick it with you huh, and what do you want in return?”
“You.”
“Sex?” I asked.
“I’ve thought about you, Sibley. I’m a man, I won’t sit here and act like I haven’t. But we are not there yet. I respect that. Not on no bragging shit, I can have sex with whoever I want, but that’s not what I’m after. I want you around me and everything that comes with it.”
Slowly, my chest heaved up and down at his declaration. Kier appeared honest, and so upfront. I respected it. And although I was hesitant, he pulled me in.
“Okay, Kier.”
“Say it.”
“You won’t get pushback from me.”
“Cheers.” He added, nodding for me to pick up my water and toast, solidifying our agreement. The chef brought our late-night breakfast a bit later. Kier teased me, stating I couldn’t eat all those pancakes, so I had no choice but to prove him wrong. And when I snagged a piece of his steak, he complimented me on my appetite. He said most women were afraid to eat. I assured him that as a bona fide foodie, I wouldn’t be turning down anything food-related. Which is why I stayed in the gym to make sure none of it caught up with me.
Kier was all about class. We lost track of time just talking, staying in that restaurant long after we’d finished eating. When it was finally time to head back to the room, he didn’t even try to make a move. He just kissed my hand and said goodnight.
The rest of our Vegas trip was a mix of wild pool parties and some laid-back tourist stuff. Honestly, the party scene got a little exhausting for me, so I was happy when we shifted gears. The girls and I hit up the Wax Museum, the Mob Museum, and zipped down Fremont Street. Tara ended up leaving out early, so it was just Treasure and me soaking up the city vibe without her.
I’ve learned the hard way that the higher the high, the harder the fall, and Vegas was one long high. Kier made it easy to get comfortable, a little too easy. And I wasn’t the same girl who ignored her instincts. If I was going to spend the summer with him, I needed to make sure I wasn’t abandoning pieces of myself in the process.
I woke up before the alarm sounded. Sleep was practically nonexistent, considering I tossed and turned all night. Theconversation I was thinking about with Kier plagued me because I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. I knew it was early, because it was eerily quiet. Vegas was quieter in the mornings, but I was sure that by 11 am, the bass from the pool parties would start pounding. For the moment, I enjoyed the quiet whisper of the air systems and the sweet chime of the alarm.
Treasure was still asleep in the other bed, with one arm flung over her face. Our makeup bags were open, there were champagne glasses on the counter, and the dress I wore was draped over the back of a chair. I scrolled through my phone for a minute.
Three emails from work, one reminder about a campaign proposal, and a picture of my sister Naomi eating a waffle cone ice cream. Most would have thought it was cute, but I knew it was Naomi reminding me that I sacrificed our sister date for a ‘stranger’. She knew sending me that picture would make me feel away. I mean goodness gracious! I couldn’t remember the last time I had a real vacation. She could have given me this.
I slid out of bed, showered, and pulled on something simple. I wore high-waisted shorts, oversized button-down, and some Air Max. Treasure stirred as I grabbed my bag.
