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“The real Troy? What does that mean?”
“Well, in the car, I realized that you’re really down-to-earth. You’re funny, Troy.” He grinned. “You’re not just a…what do they call them…Black American Princess.”
“Oh, so now you think I’m a BAP?” I laughed. I was used to the “BAP” classification. It always amazed me how quickly people wanted to put me into some category as soon as they found out my family had a little money and I had decent taste. Hell, for the most part it was true. I was a BAP poster child.
“Well, let’s be honest, at the country club you seemed a little snobby,” Kyle said. “I wasn’t exactly fond of you.” He held up his napkin like a shield.
“Snobby?” I said, grabbing the napkin. While I could handle being called a BAP, I was not snobby. Shoot, I could drink and cuss with the best of them! “Please, you know you were trying to get with this,” I joked.
“Troy, you were acting like a spoiled little rich girl that day. Not my type.” We both laughed. I couldn’t help it. He was right. Kyle wasn’t even on my friend list.
“But that’s the past. And what I know now, after talking to you in the car and seeing how carefully you took care of your friend, is that there’s more to you. There’s a lot more,” Kyle said. “And I’m happy you came out today, too,” he went on. “I was afraid you’d stand me up.”
“Stand you up?”
“Yeah. I know how you ladies can be about going out with, you know, religious men who have dedicated their lives to God. And you didn’t seem too thrilled about me being a virgin.” Kyle started laughing again and I realized that I’d almost forgotten about his occupation.
“It was nothing, Kyle. Really,” I said. “I mean, it’s a choice.”
“I’m glad you feel that way, because I didn’t want to spend all of my money on these flowers trying to impress you and then get dissed.”
I sighed and looked down at the flowers. They were great. Kyle was great. But I had to tell him the truth.
“No, the flowers are lovely, Kyle. But I have to be honest with you.” I paused, giving the waitress time to put the food on the table. “I’m not really looking for anything right now. I’m kind of in between places.”
Kyle said a short prayer over our food and looked at me.
“‘In between’? Oh, that’s a new one.” He dug into his steak forcefully. I could tell he was annoyed with me. It was obvious that he had gone through a lot of trouble trying to impress me. Hell, the man had called my mama! It was the right gesture—just the wrong man. Why couldn’t Julian have done something like that for me? Suddenly, the spring salad I’d ordered tasted incredibly dull in my mouth. I wanted to eat my words.
“It’s not a line, Kyle,” I said, sliding my fork onto the plate. “You just caught me at the wrong time, that’s all.”
“So my obligations don’t bother you?”
“Well, I’ll admit, I’m not exactly thrilled with it, but it doesn’t make me not want to be your friend.” I reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “And I do want to be your friend.”
“Hmm…” He gasped. “Friend?” He looked me over. “I guess that’ll work. Besides, then I’ll get to see you again. And that would be a blessing.”
“Great!” I said. He smiled, and judging from the appearance of the chin dimple, it was a truce.
“Troy,” Kyle said, looking at me, “whoever he is, he’s a lucky man.”
“Thanks, Kyle.”
“I really mean that or I wouldn’t even be here. I don’t exactly have a shortage of women trying to get to me at the church.”
I had to laugh. Those church sisters were a trip. They loved trying to get with a single man of God—or even a married man of God. I saw the way they flocked to the pastor at my own church. They carried cakes to church, asked for special “prayer” meetings—some of them even tried to have their mamas hook them up. It was some stiff competition going on in the Lord’s house.
“So are you throwing the church ladies up in my face?” I frowned playfully.
“No, I’m just saying, I don’t want you to allow people to take you for granted.” He stared deeply into my eyes. “No one should ever take a woman like you for granted. You’re smart, loving, witty, and more beautiful than any one man could ever deserve.”
“That might be one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me,
Kyle,” I said, after turning to look behind me to see if he was talking to someone else or reading from a script. The man was unreal. His words were so sweet, I didn’t know if I wanted to cry or jump over the table to hug him.
“It’s true.”
“Enough about little old me,” I said, blushing. “What about you? Tell me about you.”
