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“Oh ...” she said, taking a breath and turning red immediately. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I’m sure,” he said.
“Well, can I have a picture?” She pulled a camera from her purse.
For the first time that day, I saw Dame’s face fill with tension. Through all of the screaming kids, flashing lights, and countless directions from the camera crew, he was cool and relaxed, but now he seemed strained.
“No pictures,” he said bluntly, even though the girl was already standing there holding the camera up to her eye.
“Excuse me?” she said, her voice cracking in disbelief.
“No pictures. I’m having dinner.” His decree was louder this time and the waiter came over to the table.
“But I—” she tried. Her voice was whiny now.
“Is everything okay?” the waiter asked.
“Just clear my bill and have my driver come around, please,” Dame said, holding out a black credit card.
“Certainly, sir,” the waiter replied. He took the card and turned to Mary Kate, who was still holding her camera. “Ma’am, could you please return to your seat?”
“But I ...” she repeated.
The waiter nodded his head patiently and directed the sad girl to her seat. People who heard the exchange were looking on now.
“You ready to get out of here?” Dame asked.
“Out of here?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m hungry. Let’s go get some real food. This was an appetizer.”
“You don’t want to order something else?” I asked.
“Trust me, we don’t need to stay here. Once Mary Kate texts all her friends and says I’m here, things are going to get worse.”
“Are you serious?” I asked.
He nodded and signed the bill.
“Now, I was supposed to put that on Evan’s tab,” I said.
“You can get the next one,” he replied.
“Really, I don’t think I should.” I looked down at my watch. It was nearing 9 p.m. “I need to get home.”
“No... . You promised me dinner and I’m hungry,” Dame teased.
Twenty minutes later, Dame and I were walking into the old Dreamland BBQ, a far cry from the frill Evan had in mind for the dinner. Dreamland was my daddy’s favorite restaurant. All they really served was meat and bread, and most people liked it that way. I tried to resist, remembering my diet, but my mouth started salivating the minute I saw the sign from the road. Dame and I were riding in the back of his Bentley. When we exited the Cypress Inn, I saw the silver, shiny car lighting up the front of the restaurant. Peeking through the little curtains hanging from the back windows with a few admirers, I admitted that I’d never been in one and Dame insisted I ride with him. Benji drove my car and I got to feel like royalty riding in the luxurious automobile that seemed more like a rolling, plush couch than a car. I could hardly feel the thing moving and Dame kept laughing as I slid around on the backseat, my dress caressing the soft leather. All this and when I looked over at Dame, he seemed so natural riding there. Like he’d been born riding in Bentleys. And even though he was wearing a white T-shirt and jeans, he made the car look more stylish.
Glancing at him carefully from my seat, I thought of how different he seemed from Evan. Both men were handsome. Both were confident. Both were successful. But Dame had this kind of strut and style that screamed “I’m here.” In the school, in the restaurant, it invited all eyes on him, and then dared them to stare. It was mystifying and exciting and it made me wonder what my former student had done and seen to make himself glow in such a way.
When we walked into Dreamland, a few people looked up from their barbecue plates at Dame familiarly, and one girl took out her phone and sneakily snapped a picture, but that was it. The people, most of whom looked like they’d just gotten off work, seemed more inclined to enjoy their own meals and allow Dame to enjoy his than to make a fuss. We sat down and Dame exclaimed happily, “Now, this is us.
“You should’ve got
ten that whole chicken,” Dame joked after we ordered our food. “This is on Tuscaloosa. We might as well do it up.”
“I need to watch my figure,” I said, loosening up to him with the promise of BBQ filling my nostrils.
