Page 63 of The Virgin Playboy

Graham was like the Optimus Prime of communicators, but he did keep his status a secret. Had to wonder if there was anything else. Before I could give it another thought, Graham swaggered into the room looking dressed to impress, with every curl on his head seemingly in place. When I stood to greet him, he whistled, his arms settling around my waist. Not only did he look fine, but he smelled amazing. I left him alone for an hour, and he came out looking like a brown James Bond.

“Hey you,” he flirted, as I fought the urge to kiss him with my freshly done makeup.

“Your sister just spent an hour helping me with my makeup, so no kisses until the end of the night,” I asserted. A sexy smile spreading across his face as he lowered his voice and whispered in my ear.

“Well by then, those won't be the only lips I want to kiss,” he cooed with a bite to his lip. He was lucky his sister was an earshot, because had she not been, I would have called his bluff. But we had places to go and performances to see. Plus, we looked too good to be wasting it at home.

“You look beautiful, Jaq,” he beamed, and for a second, I nearly forgot his sister was there with us by the intense look he was giving me.

“I'd say get a room, but you already have one. Try not to take too long making googly eyes at your girlfriend. The driver’s going to be here soon.” She stood, exiting the room covering her eyes on the way out.

“Well, it's too late for that.”

In the form of an SUV, we all rode together, the lights blinding the moment as we stepped out the car.

“You just learn to ignore them,” Winnie murmured, as I clung to Graham’s arm and we made our way through the crowd. I wished I could say it overwhelmed me but I’d covered red carpets before on the anchor side, so it wasn’t the nerve wrecking experience it could have been.

I was however surprised when through all the chaos, Graham stopped for at least one moment, letting them capture him holding me close at the waist before heading inside.

“I haven't been here in eight years, I just gave them one,” he explained, wearing a smug smile.

“Typically, our parents get mezzanine seats, but the acoustics are flipping amazing from the back stalls or the lower balcony,” Winnie clarified as we made our way to our seats.

“Don't forget, you guys. Dad said take a lot of pictures,” she reminded taking selfies of her and her husband, and didn't seem to mind when I photo bombed their selfie.

“I didn't forget,” Graham smiled, pulling me in his lap and snapping shots of him kissing my face or lips. There had to be PG shots in there, so I suggested taking a few without all the public displays of affection, which made everyone occasionally swap seats, so that we could cover shots with everyone.

We stopped when the show started, but agreed to take more during intermission. As someone who grew up in a flashy city like New York, a night at the opera was probably the only thing I had never done.

It felt like a rite of passage, but the show in question, Toiere was a great show to start with.

It was more of a musical journey rather than telling a singular narrative with three acts. Graham was trying to explain in real time the Waiata Māori included, which were traditional songs in the native language, but it was distinguishable what was in Italian versus what was Māori by how it was performed.

I recognized words from one of the songs because they were from the Haka at the airport, but I had never known what it was called. Ka Mate sounded beautiful no matter how it was performed, but there had been other standouts during the show.

Seeing all these brown people survive through their art was inspiring. Even as a non-religious person, it was like watching the Holy Spirit get caught up at a Black church. It was so familiar, but different, and in a way comforting.

Graham's Māori identity felt as impactful as what it felt like being Black American at times. Seeing how indigeneity influenced so much of this cool little island made me understand why his pride went so deep. Being African American on my mother's side, I always saw that influence, no matter where in the world I’d been.

I was really enjoying the show, but relieved to get a beverage break when we got a brief intermission.

Taking a quick bathroom check to ensure my makeup and hair were still in place, I met Graham, his sister, and brother-in-law, my man approaching me with a bottle of water.

“You said you were thirsty and all they had was alcohol,” he smiled.

Out of respect, I stayed alcohol-free, and considering his sister and brother-in-law didn’t drink, I knew Graham wasn’t indulging either, which was fine because I was actually thirsty.

“Oh, my stars, is that Graham?” A gorgeous, noticeably mixed Polynesian woman singled Graham out. She was wearing a simple but modestly elegant dress and at first, I wasn't sure who she was, but then she saw Wilhelmina⁠—

“Hi, Annie,” Wilhelmina gulped, but Graham's eyes widened with recognition, as if he’d seen a ghost. Without hesitation, he leaned in to hug her.

“My apologies, Annie. Meet my girlfriend, Jacqueline. Jaq, meet my…” he smiled, his words coming out in a stammer. “High school girlfriend?” he ended in a question.

“Oh, meet my husband, Robbie.” Graham gave him a firm handshake, as Annie leaned in to hug me too. It was awkward, but only because I was making it awkward. I certainly wasn't jealous because he had a completely different life before me.

“Congratulations. How long have you two been married?” Graham wondered out loud.

“Almost eight years,” he admitted, as Graham's smile creased, triggering a nerve.