Page 19 of Targeted By Desire

“Gabriel, shut up.” I tried to contain the smile tugging at my lips, but couldn’t due to his eruption of infectious laughter.

“I’m just saying,” he said between his laughs. “Spin the block and get that back blown out one last time.”

“Oh, please. Getting laid is at the bottom of tonight’s plan.” I sighed. “He’ll probably grovel and beg for me to accept his ring. But, I can’t do that. I’ve wasted enough of his time.”

“Yeah, I hear you,” Gabriel said. “You’re doing the right thing, letting him down easy. Don’t let anyone guilt you into thinking differently.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

“Text me when you get home. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Beats from SZA’s last album resumed playing after I hung up the call with Gabriel. I hummed along to the lyrics as I looked over myself one last time.

Since I really wasn’t trying to impress Justin tonight, I opted for a long-sleeved royal blue dress that hugged my figure and gold heels. My braids were pulled up into a high bun, and my edges were tacked down in sleek swoops. The usual dark bronzes glittered on my eyelids and my lips were frosted in dark lip liner and gloss.

Earlier in the day, I made a point to go to the nail salon and fill in my acrylic set. My nail tech touched up the coffin shape and used a fall palette to color in my nails.

“Beautiful,” my mother used to say in my teenage years when she’d pop her head in my door and see me getting ready. She’d give me a small smile, the one that told me she was proud even though she didn’t say it aloud. Back then, I relished in all the moments of acceptance I could get. But even as a child, I wished my looks weren’t the only thing she took pride in.

I shook off the heavy weights attempting to lay their palms on my shoulders.

Tonight is not about her. I’ll wallow in my river of my mother’s disappointment tomorrow.

I spritzed on some perfume and headed out the door. The drive to the restaurant wasn’t nearly long enough to paint on the fake smile and mentally prepare to listen to Justin’s pleas for the next few hours. The closer I came to my destination, the more I regret passing up on the short window to cancel. I could’ve blamed it on the concussion I had. Lied and said I still wasn’t feeling great. But that word would just come back around to my mother, and I did not want to deal with her.

Just a few hours, I told myself as I pulled into the crowded parking lot.

I shuffled through the parking lot and walked through the glass entrance doors.

The hearty smell of marinara sauce and spiced meats greeted me as I stepped into the dimly lit dining area. Inside, the restaurant was teeming with an abundance of people. Servers dressed in black and white gracefully weaved around the tables with trays filled with glasses or plates. Patrons dressed to the nines sat around the round tables with white satin tablecloths with candle-topped golden centerpieces. On the farther side of the restaurant, a small orchestra was perched on a small stage, strumming an elegant tune.

Two hostesses dressed in black blazers were waiting at the front podium. Both of them offered me a smile as I approached them.

“Hello, I’m under the reservation for Justin Hartford,” I explained.

The blonde hostess beamed at the name. “Oh, you’re the lucky lady he’s been waiting for,” she said.

Raising my brow, I glanced at the clock. I wasn’t late, was I?

“Don’t fret,” she said, noticing my expression. “Just enjoy.”

I turned my expression to the other hostess, a petite Black woman with her hair slicked back into a low bun. “Can’t ruin the surprise,” she said with a shrug, her voice lower than the other girls. She waved her hand as she walked around the podium. “Follow me.”

Nodding, I complied and let her lead me down the hall. We passed all the patrons chatting in the main dining area and headed towards the very back of the establishment. “Let me guess: he rented the private room?” I asked.

Looking over her shoulder, the hostess nodded. “And decorated.”

“Hm.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “Not a romantic?”

I shook my head. “Just seen it a million times. Gets old after a while.”

She nodded in understanding.

We reached the door leading into the isolated suite. The hostess offered me one last smile before she turned the knob and pushed the door open.