Page 16 of The One He Desires

Silence fills the line, and my heart rate elevates as I await Journee’s reply. Thankfully, she doesn’t leave me in suspense long as her voice pours over the line.

“Thank you, Sincere. I appreciate you.”

“No worries. I got y’all.”

Another truth that I’m not just saying to flatter Journee. Journee has been dealing with single motherhood. But I will be someone she can count on for anything or everything if she needs it. Pops raised me as a single parent, and I understand the challenges he went through. So if I can provide Journee with even a shred of relief, that’s what I plan to do.

“None that we got that out of the way. What did you have for dinner? Milan and I had one of those frozen lasagnas because I didn’t feel like cooking.”

“Yuck. I grew up eating that processed imitation and refuse to even look at them in the store now. I can’t believe you did my Sweet Face such a disservice.”

“I know. I felt so bad because she turned her nose up and told me it wasn’t good or my mom’s ’sagna.”

I chuckle because I can only imagine Sweet Face’s expression and outrage over Journee’s dinner choice.

“Listen, nobody will be as real as a three-year-old. I promise,” Journee adds.

“I can only imagine. Who needs a lie detector with them around?”

“That part. So, what did you have? All that judgment and you have yet to share what you ate.”

“I actually made a chicken Caesar salad yesterday, so I’ll be eating that.”

“Ooh, that’s it? It doesn’t sound filling enough for me. I’ll take my frozen lasagna over a boring salad any day.”

“Don’t knock it until you try it. I don’t like eating heavy late, and I needed a workout after work more than I needed to cook.”

Our conversation flows naturally and easily as I go through the routine of my after-work activities. I had just finished a quick workout when Journee called, but I’m now delaying my shower because I don’t want to stop talking to her. I’m sitting on my floor because I’m funky and sweaty and don’t want to sit or lie on my bed without cleaning up first. Hell, I’ll give Journee four or twelve hours if it means we can stay in this moment.

Today has been a day, and not having Milan for the evening should be a positive. But sometimes I need to do something other than going home to watch mindless TV. Thankfully, my bestie needed a reason to unwind, too, so we met up at my parents’ house and then took a rideshare to Esther Weeze Dance Hall.

“Here. We were almost gonna be swallowing our spit if I had to wait any longer.” Zuri hands me a cocktail glass that has blue liquid in it. Drinks and dancing during the week didn’t sound too bad when Zuri suggested it during my lunch break. But we must have sent a signal to like-minded people in the city, because it’s packed in here.

“What’s this?”

“A blue Long Island. The bartender recommended it. Drink up so we can hit the dance floor.”

I nod and take my first sip of the drink she’s chosen for us. The cool citrusy flavor instantly bursts on my tongue, and I have to fight the urge to moan. I’ve never had one before, but the mix of lemonade and warmth that settles within my chest catches me off guard. The alcohol hidden beneath the sugar makes it dangerous. But I find myself taking additional sips as my taste buds force me to forget how strong it is. Once I reach the bottom of the glass, I feel a pleasant buzz creep up on me.

“I might need at least two more of those. I wonder if I could get it in slushie form. If so, I could add to my count of how many more I will consume before we leave.”

“Mhm.” Zuri nods as she sets her empty glass on the table before we head toward the crowded dance floor.

Travis Scott’s song echoes around the room just as Zuri and I step onto the shiny wood surface, and my body has a Madea from Boo reaction. I bob my head and do just as the song says: bend over and shake my ample ass without having to touch my toes. Zuri joins me, courtesy of the liquor in her system because my bestie is the more reserved of the two of us. We get lost in the lyrics and the beat as the anxiousness I felt about Sincere’s presence eases out of my body. The sea of people makes it easy for me not to think about being a business owner or about Zuri being a professional. Hopefully, neither of us will encounter any of the individuals we have non-personal relationships with while we’re cutting up on this dance floor.

“Bend it over. Touch your toes.” I snap as my body moves back up to the top, and I high-five Zuri as she laughs.

I look around and smile when I see the other ladies vibing to the song like the artists wrote it with them in mind. The one thing I love about Esther Weeze is that it’s a great, low-key spot for adults who want to unwind without worrying about the younger crowd’s shenanigans. It also helps that the owner employs special-duty police officers who are sprinkled throughout the room in plain clothes. The song ends and transitions into something slower, allowing me to go to the bar for another drink. I dang near trip over my feet when I see the side profile of a familiar face as I approach the bar.

What are the odds? There are many lounges, bars, and clubs in the city. What is this man doing here?

“Are you okay?” Zuri’s question is full of confusion and curiosity that has me nodding without a verbal response.

Sincere and three other guys dressed in suits sans ties are at the bar, seemingly having a good time. In front of each of them are half-full glasses of brown liquid. Even with Sincere sitting, his height isn’t something to sneeze at, and I have the desire to climb him like a tree. I must be telepathically sending vibes because Sincere is mid-chuckle when his eyes meet mine, which instantly makes my heart rate increase. Heat fills my neck when his humor transitions to interest and appreciation.

Decorum. Self-control. Keep it together, girl.

“How can I help you, beauty?” the bartender asks, which forces me to disconnect my gaze from Sincere to her.