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Our family was close, so I was used to the intrusion because it didn't affect my choices. Once my mind was made up, it didn't matter what anybody had to say about it. Like right now, I was ending my night with Hailo.
When I walked into the hotel, I saw no familiar faces thinking Hailo had stood me up. Then I heard Denim’s mouth while Hailo played mediator. The name Meraux made the impossible possible, like getting a suite at the last minute in the best hotel in town. Niyomi and Hailo were incredibly gracious, and I was sure Denim would've been, too, if she were coherent enough to know where she was.
Sitting on the couch waiting for Hailo to return from helping Niyomi, I scrolled through my text and one, in particular, caught my attention.
Kyerra: Hey Gi, if you're free tomorrow night, let’s hang out.
"Thank you for all your help tonight," Hailo's soft voice pulled my focus from my phone to the orange dress that perfectly complemented her skin tone.
"You're welcome."
"You're not some weird serial killer who disguises himself as a knight in shining armor, are you?" she asked as casually as she could manage.
“If I were, would I answer that?” I challenged. The color drained from her face, considering the thought that maybe this was a bad decision. The warmth in my smile echoed in my voice, “You can relax, Lo. I’m not a serial killer.”
"I’m sure all serial killers say that." That’s what her mouth said, but she saw something in me that made her defenses subside, allowing her confidence to shine through. I couldn't front like I didn't want to see what was underneath her dress, but confidence was the best thing I'd seen her in all night.
"Who was the nigga that made you need my help?" I asked the question I had been wondering all night. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him.
Hailo's eyes broke contact walking to the large window overlooking the city. She had sixty more seconds of patience before I repeated the question with much more authority. Finally, her silk-laden voice floated around the room.
"Marcel is my ex.”
Which I assumed, but I wanted to be sure. Hailo finally turned around, clinging to the column like a pole at the strip club. The water pooling in her eyes caused my frustration to grow.
"I hope you raise your standards when picking the next one."
"The next one," she chuckled, and I could tell she was still in pain about the breakup. "That's the furthest thing from my mind."
"Remember, real niggas put you on game because they'll never want you to look stupid. They take care of your spirit and help you get to it if they're in a position to do that.” At some point or another, the intensity in Hailo’s eyes commanded me across the room. Or maybe that’s what I told myself, swiping the hair from her face to get a better view. “Love isn't what a nigga says. It's what he does. Don't settle for a sucka next time, and you'll be fine.”
"Do you rap? That was actually kind of fly."
"Fuck no."
"It could make a decent second career. You know when you're not playing knight in shining armor."
"I'll never be done with that," Slowly and seductively, my gaze slid down from her shoulders to her breasts.
She tried to throttle the dizzying current racing through her by clearing her throat, "Hmm, so that's how you pick up women?"
"I don't need games or gimmicks to pick up women. They fall for me all on their own, Pretty Lady."
"I can see why. You're pretty smooth."
"And you're better than the nigga you were with."
"What makes you so sure of that after a few hours? I could be a handful," she challenged, but that didn't intimidate me.
"The ones worth having usually are, but my intuition isn't screaming for me to get the fuck up out of here, so you gotta be alright."
"I'm more than alright," Hailo boasted, tilting her chin upward.
There was that confidence that made my dick twitch.
"So act like you're somebody's prayer. Don't be crying behind no nigga. Especially one who didn't love you right."
I couldn’t be sure Cel was to blame because I didn’t know what caused the demise of their relationship. Judging by how Cel behaved tonight, I was willing to bet he was the guilty party.
