“I’m happy you picked Blanco’s. It’s one of my favorites,” Presley noted.
“Good to know.” I gestured toward the menu. “What would you recommend?”
“The tomahawk for sure,” she suggested, bouncing around in her seat.
“Bet. We can order whenever you’re ready.”
In the meantime, Presley went on and on talking about herself, but I didn’t mind. I loved a confident woman, and I appreciated not having to feed the awkward silence with my business.
“You’re telling me where you are now. Tell me where you’re going,” I replied to her rambling. “Do you want kids? I don’t recall you answering that question when we spoke.”
“If I never have one, I’ll survive. Children are an extension of their parents. I don’t want my kids to be a reflection of any man I’ve been with. I’d die if they inherited their ways. What about you?”
“First comes love, then comes marriage. I’m not looking to have kids with anyone except my wife.”
“Oh. Mr. Traditional?” She snickered. “I bet that traditional shit goes out the window when it comes to premarital sex.”
I nodded at her calling me out. “Touché.”
Our server entered our bubble and placed our drinks on the table. “Are you ready to order?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but Presley cut me off and ordered what seemed like one of everything on the menu. Uneasy, I stirred in my seat, thinking about the amount of money I would spend on a woman I knew I would never see again.
“All right. Enough about me,” Presley continued once we were alone. “I’m so happy we finally got to meet in person. I will admit, I looked you up. Someone had you tagged in an old high school yearbook picture. Being raised in the projects, I thought you would be . . . different. A little more hood.”
My jaws tightened, knowing where the conversation was going. “We’re in a Michelin Star restaurant. What do you expect me to do? Stand on the table and piss on the floor?”
“Of course not. Your demeanor is a pleasant surprise.”
“I’m surprised a woman that appears to be so confident is into online dating.”
“I mean, I’m not looking for a traditional union. The only people who seem to respect different relationships are those online.”
“Untraditional?”
A two-note giggle tumbled from her lips as she looked away. I tracked her eyes, but I didn’t notice anyone out of place.
“Yeah,” she said in a drag. “I’m thirty-five, and I’ve been married twice. Marriage, in the traditional sense, isn’t what I’m looking for.”
“You’re talking in circles.”
Presley ejected an open-mouthed huff. “All right. I’m just going to lay it out there. I’m currently in a relationship, and me and my girl are looking for a third.”
My heart sank. “You don’t think you should’ve shared that in your profile?”
“I prefer to connect with a man organically, not with some freak who thinks polygamy translates to threesomes. At this point, I don’t want to waste your time or mine, so I want to be transparent.”
I tossed my napkin on the table, sending Essen a signal to interrupt the date.
“I knew this was some bullshit,” I muttered. “You said you don’t want to waste time, but that’s exactly what you’ve done. I’m not into sharing. I would hurt somebody for touching my woman. You’re out of your damn mind.”
“You’re right about that. You’re wearing a Franco and a Rolex. I lost my mind when I saw you were wearing cheap jewelry and I didn’t walk out the door.” She snickered at her egotistical joke, then dabbed the corners of her lips with her thumb.
“Well, I guess you told me.” I grinned, staring down at the fifty-thousand-dollar watch on my wrist. My piece wasn’t as expensive as I could afford, but it was what I liked.
“I apologize if you feel I’m being vain, but it’s only right I keep it real.”
I side-eyed the weirdo. “Real is a stretch. I looked you up, too. Aside from you buying followers, you’re broke. You don’t own most of the luxury pieces you post. Don’t get me started on your lack of maturity or class. I was raised in the projects, and even I know you aren’t supposed to eat with your elbows on the table.”
