Dragging my sisters out of the house to see what The Crown Club is hitting for.
According to Hope’s most recent post, they were hitting up one of the new clubs in the city. She even recorded a live video of herself getting ready for the club. I couldn’t see how people wanted to broadcast their every waking moment to the world. I couldn’t do it. No matter how much of her own life Hopedisplayed to the world, there was no sign of her sister. If I wanted to see her, I knew exactly where I had to go.
The music was way too loud. The drinks were way too strong. Plus, my bladder had been filled to capacity for the last thirty minutes. None of that mattered more than the tequila shot sitting in front of me. For the past hour, I had been watching and hating on my big sister as she shook her ass on the dance floor.
All I wanted to do was drink. I could have done that from the comfort of my own home, but thanks to Hope and her shenanigans, I was outside. She had successfully got me out of the house, but that didn’t mean that I had to have fun.
My sour mood was my own fault. I’d put myself in a crisis by underestimating the allure of the man who stole my innocence and my faith in true love almost a decade ago. As bad as I wantedto make Reed pay for ruining my outlook on life, I knew from the start that I had to be careful with him.
“Don’t let Grace’s self-righteous ass get in your head, sis,” Hope said, plopping down on the stool next to me.
“I’m not worried about Grace, girl.”
“Then why are you drinking like a fish, and why haven’t you called that man? You know you want to.”
“I’m not thinking about any man. I’m trying to decompress from a stressful week, if you don’t mind.”
“You still love him, Faith. Why don’t you just admit it?”
“I don’t love him. I want to chop him in the throat.”
That made her grin like a fool. “Same difference from where I’m sitting.”
“Well sit on this,” I said, holding up my middle finger before throwing back the shot in front of me.
“Thank you, but no thank you. I’m about to find a nice handsome face to sit on for the night. If you’re lucky, you can probably wake Jasper up so he can come knock the cobwebs off that thang once and for all,” Hope said before sliding off her stool and shimmying her way back out to the dance floor.
I didn’t have a chance to say fuck you to my sister before she was shaking her ass again. It pissed me off that she brought up Jasper. He was the sweetest. He was ten years older than me, but he was so handsome I didn’t even consider our age difference.
Jasper was tall, dark, handsome, and a two-time divorcee. He had three kids from his previous marriages and shared custody of them with his ex-wives. For some reason, he just didn’t do it for me. For one thing, I’d always said I would never be a man’s second wife. I damn sure didn’t want to be the third fool. He could thank Reed for that. Still, Jasper was a good guy.
Jasper moved into the house a few doors down from me about a year ago. When he moved in, I took him some muffins and welcomed him to the neighborhood. Once he realized thatI was single, he started to take my trash cans to the road every week. He even cut my grass when he cut his own. Since he lived alone, I always made sure that I took him a plate if I cooked on Sundays. In any other circumstances, he would have been the perfect guy for me.
Hope wasn’t usually right about a lot of things, but she was on the money to say I had no business out bar hopping with her. I should have had my ass at home. Then again, a woman had to live sometimes. Jada had begged to spend the night with my mom, so it wasn’t like I was shirking my motherly duties. I still felt bad about being out.
There were so many other things that I could have been doing, like reading over my notes from my employee interviews. For the most part, they had been fruitless, but I had a few good quotes that I could use.
It was actually good that I came out. I felt better already, but it could have been the tequila talking. I had been so dedicated to my obligations over the past couple of years that I rarely let my hair down.
Thanks to Reed, Cashville, and the mysterious fake chips, there I was drinking away my anxiety and dreading the fact that in a few minutes, I would either have to break down and use a club bathroom or pee outside in an alley. My bladder was screaming for relief. I did a quick scan of the crowd, and Hope was nowhere in sight.
Instead of trying to find her fast behind, I hopped off the barstool and headed to the bathroom without letting her know where I was going. Being on my feet made me realize that I probably should have stopped drinking before that last shot. Now I was two margaritas and three shots in trying to wade through the crowd with a full bladder.
The group of men who’d brought me and Hope our second round of drinks happened to be posted up right bythe bathroom. It was OK to flirt with them when Hope was dominating the conversation, but now their rapt attention made me nervous. I didn’t feel like turning down a bunch of drunk men. All I wanted to do was use the bathroom. Still, I forced a smile once I made eye contact with the most talkative one. I knew better than to wear my emotions on my face. Drunk men could get dangerous fast.
“Ma, you way too pretty to be walking around in here alone. Might get snatched up,” he warned me.
“I’m a big girl. I’m sure I can handle myself.”
He laughed but extended his hand. “I don’t think I introduced myself before. My name is Marcus.”
I shook his hand, but I didn’t want him to confuse manners with interest. “Hey, Marcus. I’m actually in a hurry,” I said, looking past him to the bathroom.
“Nah, don’t try to brush my boy off like he a peon or something. All y’all hoes so stuck up these days. Then y’all have the nerve to wonder why y’all are by your damn selves.”
“Well damn.” One of the others chimed in.
That made the rest of them laugh, including Marcus. That was my cue to leave them where they stood. I didn’t have time to entertain them when my bladder was literally screaming at this point. When I moved to walk around Marcus, he grabbed my arm. I hated that shit.
