Page 11 of A Don & His Doll

Ding…

The elevator sounded, a welcomed interruption as they were greeted with the rich and savory notes wafting from the kitchen along with Jagged Edge’s Real One pulsing through the surround sound, creating an atmosphere conducive to the passion Promise deserved. She was both flattered and impressed simultaneously. No other man had ever come remotely close to the pressure Monroe was applying.

This went beyond materialism.

This was security.

This was trust.

This was pure love.

Promise didn’t need to hear the words to know it was in the room. She felt it as soon as she stepped into her new home that Monroe had purchased for her. She saw it when Monroe bore into her soul, and she looked forward to tasting it once they ate the dinner her man prepared for her. This is the life I’ve always dreamed of, she thought as she walked through each room, smoothing her hands over the walls, the smooth edges of the furniture, and marble countertops as if she was claiming it. It took another thirty minutes for Promise to view all three levels of her new home. The glass railing curves, high ceilings, and the amazing panoramic views were amazing. However, what did it for her was her new bedroom. Everything was so soft, so comforting, and the floor-to-ceiling windows framed Manhattan’s skyline. Maybe it was the nighttime effect that caused the dim lighting to hit just right, or perhaps it was everything meshing together perfectly. Promise was unsure as she stood in front of the glass window, but the second she felt the warmth of Monroe’s arms wrapping around her from behind, that became the only thing she was certain of… and that was enough.

“Did I meet your standard, doll?” Monroe asked lowly, using the layered nickname he’d given her the first time he saw the true essence of who she was.

Promise loved the way he made her feel when he called her Doll. The sentiment was both endearing and erotic. “Did you meet my standard? You can’t be for real,” she replied seriously. “Baby, you have outdone yourself,” she told him honestly, her eyes misting with tears.

“You already know a nigga gon’ do whatever it take to make sure you maintain that smile on yo’ face,” Monroe assured her, smoothing his hands across her smooth, flawless skin. “Damn, Doll. Everything about you is fuckin’ perfect. Come on, let me feed you before a nigga sweet tooth override my good manners.”

Promise tittered. “You are a mess, Monroe Black. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” she said, gazing at the picture she and Monroe had taken when they went on a spontaneous two-day trip to Belize.

Monroe nodded, understanding that Promise needed a minute to take everything in. He didn’t sweat it because that gave him time to make their plates and pour some drinks. He kissed the nape of her neck once more. “A’ight, you want red or white wine?”

“Red,” Promise said, smiling sweetly.

A quick chill ran through her body as she smoothed her hand over the soft throw blanket that draped over the bottom part of her bed that said, Promise Keeper. It was her daily reminder every time she made her bed that she had a man who would always keep his promises to her. Promise closed her eyes and stood in the luxury her man provided her with. She soaked in the joy, and held her own heart as the abundance of peace flowed through her pores from the inside out. It was one thing to dream and envision yourself in a better place in life, but when those dreams and visions became a reality, it was life-changing.

Promise opened her eyes and walked over to her floor-to-ceiling window and looked out at the perfect view of Manhattan’s Hudson River. Promise quickly grabbed her phone and called her best friend Jazira on FaceTime.

“Hey, friend!” Jazira answered instantly, with a contagious smile spread across her face.

“Hey, Jaz!” Promise returned the same energy, using Jazira’s nickname. “Girl, let me show you my view right now,” she beamed, turning her camera around, wanting to share a special moment.

“Wow! Now that’s beautiful,” Jaz said, admiring the view. “Where you at?”

Promise turned the camera back around. “Home.”

“Home?!” Jaz replied with widened eyes.

“Yes ma’am! Monroe has outdone himself once again. I’m still pinching myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.”

“This is a dream, but nah sis, you ain’t dreaming. I’m so happy and proud of you. I can’t wait to come get my official walk-through.”

“You know I got’cha. I’ma hit you back later though. I just wanted to give you a little glimpse,” Promise said, switching her camera around to show Jaz her room.

“That’s so nice, sis. You deserve all of this. Thanks for letting me know you made it safely. I love you.”

“Love you too, sis.”

Promise sat her phone on the nightstand, tossed her phone on the bed, then made her way downstairs to the kitchen. The aroma lingering in the air had her stomach growling, she couldn’t wait to eat whatever Monroe prepared. When she made it to the kitchen, Monroe had already eaten his food. It didn’t upset her because this wasn’t anything new. The fact that he still sat at the table and waited for her was enough.

“It’s about time yo’ ass made it back down here,” Monroe smirked.

“Oh my God, this food looks and smells so good. Thank you for going out of your way to do all of this for me,” Promise stated, looking over the stuffed chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans.

“You already know ya nigga is something like a master chef in the kitchen. It’s all for you, Doll.”

Promise didn’t hesitate. She quickly blessed the food, and cut into her stuffed chicken breast. “Ummm, this chicken is perfect, babe.”