Page 51 of The Need to Know

We clinked glasses once more, just in the nick of time as a woman walked past our table. She was alone, and the coy smile she gave me as she breezed by almost had me leaning over to watch her find her table. Almost.

“So,” Paisley said, gaining my attention. “Which one of us is inviting Nas?”

At once I faced her. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, you’re giving me five free passes. I wouldn’t want to waste one.”

“You can invite her,” I said.

Paisley angled her head. “Oh?”

“Inviting her to an event when you’re surely going to be on your best ‘Men Ain’t Shit,’ act, nah, I’ll pass on that one.”

I hadn’t spoken to Nastasia since Wednesday. Hadn’t seen her at the gym either. Not knowing which way we were taking things was throwing me for a loop. I wanted to be friendly, casual, but then, I didn’t want to lead her on thinking that was my intention. But at the same time, she was nice to talk to.

“We should get this Ladies’ Night out of the way. The sooner I’m out of the bubble of y’all’s web, the better,” Paisley said.

She probably thought this was a hot mess. It was interesting to know Cesar wasn’t the only one calling bullshit on our arrangement.

In all honesty, the idea was silly. This in-between thing we were trying wouldn’t last long. We were adults. I knew what I wanted when I saw it, typically. It was only a matter of time before Nastasia was ready to just give in to her gut and seal the deal, or listen to her instinct and run.

Until then, at least things weren’t sticky or complicated. I could handle unconventional.

“Got an idea,” I said, getting back to what mattered. Business. “The night of the event, wear something from Shéc.”

“Why?” Paisley asked.

“Cross-promo. We can tell all the ladies in the building where you got your clothes. Maybe we’ll have a couple of bottle girls sporting something cute too.”

Paisley took a sip of her wine. “I like the way you think.”

To solidify this lucrative deal, I raised my glass for one more toast. “To Franklin.”

“To Grant,” Paisley agreed as she clinked her glass against mine.

To the start of what felt like a solid friendship.

The perks of living alone? Getting to wear, or not wear, whatever you wanted around the house. Friday night, as per usual, I was barefoot and in just a tank top. My breasts were covered in goose bumps, evidence of an effective AC.

I was tempted to turn down the air, but it was a cozy kind of cold. Just ripe for bundling up under a throw on the couch.

The idea sounded perfect, until the echo of keys alerted me of someone right outside my front door. Being that my front door opened right into my TV room, there was no missing the distinct noises I was hearing.

Shit.

Exposed, all I could do was cross my arms.

“Don’t use the key,” a woman’s voice spoke up from the other side of the door.

“Well, it is my house, Brandy,” he shot back.

All at once, I managed to calm down just a little, albeit I went from alarmed to annoyed.

It was my parents, dropping by unannounced without so much as a call—okay, not that I was actively taking or entertaining their calls.

Still, in just my thin tank top and panties, I wasn’t in the proper setting to be face to face with my parents of all people.

“Wait!” I shouted out. In a rush, I went over to my closet and grabbed the first article of clothing I could find. A trench coat. Dramatic, but it would have to do.