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Now that some time had passed and I’d fully accepted that me working at Nike in any real capacity just wasn’t in the cards, it was a little easier to see the different ways in which I’d at least grown creatively through that experience. And with the tangible proof in my hand thanks to the company’s online customization software, it was clear I still had what it took to be onsomebody’sfootwear design team, that conclusion putting some pep in my step as I made my way to my closet to grab the outfit I’d had in mind when the shoes were created and then got dressed for a morning of errands that was immediately followed by my afternoon shift at Just Kickin’ It.
Even though I was still in a good mood when I walked into work, I was also a bit confused once I saw who was standing behind the counter, my eyebrows furrowing a bit when I approached him and asked, “Hey, where’s Aubrey? I thought she was working with me today.”
With a shrug, the kid who was technically an adult but looked like a baby in the face to me peeked up from his phone and answered, “She texted me last night begging me to switch shifts with her, and I didn’t ask questions.”
“She’s been doing that a lot lately,” I realized, speaking more to myself than I was to the little boy who responded with another shrug before he went back to whatever he was watching on his phone. And since there weren’t any customers yet, I decided to grab mine too, mainly so that I could do a little sleuthing and figure out what was going on with our coworker.
The easiest place to start was Instagram. Though, admittedly, I was a little distracted when the first post that popped up on my timeline was of Lance flexing in the mirror before his workout this morning. But after giving that a quick like and then dropping a couple “squirrel holding its nut” emojis in his comments, I made my way to the search tab so that I could type in Aubrey’s name, my eyes squinting suspiciously as I found her profile and then scrolled through her most recent posts until I landed on one worth exploring further.
It was a picture of her and Darnell, the two of them looking as happy as ever with the caption,“Congratulations, bro! So excited for you!”But since it wasn’t super clear what she was congratulating him for, and no one in the comments had made it obvious either, I decided to click on his username so that I could go to his page, only to discover… “User not found? Darnell blocked me?”
I’d been so wrapped up in everything Lance since the night Darnell took me to the Skyhawks game that I hadn’t even realized we hadn’t been in touch at all until this moment. And while it wasn’t all that far-fetched for him to have cut his losses by blocking me on social media, the fact that Aubrey seemed to be avoiding me too was what made both actions seem a little strange; though I tried not to think too much of it as I breezed through my workday and then headed back over to Lance’s house for dinner.
Only because he’d been on my neck about it did I use the key to enter without knocking or ringing the doorbell first, the smell that hit my nostrils when I stepped inside literally making my mouth water as I followed it to the kitchen where Lance was cooking.
Wait.
Lance is cooking?
His chef was standing at the island boxing up something that looked equally delicious. But it was Lance’s fine ass who was at the stove monitoring some sort of Cajun seafood pasta dish that I honestly couldn’t wait to taste since…Lance is cooking?
It wasn’t like I didn’t think he was capable. I mean, considering the way his mom used to throw down on the regular, it wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d picked up a few tips over the years. But the fact that he’d asked me to have dinner with him and was now in the kitchen putting said dinner together had me convinced I would be finishing the day the same way I’d started it; especially once Lance peeked my way with an arrogant smirk and said, “Yeah, you see it.”
Rolling my eyes playfully, I turned towards his lowkey handsome chef to insist, “Sir, please don’t let him take credit for your work.”
“Nah, that’s all him. I just brought the ingredients,” the man responded convincingly as he wiped his hand on a towel and then extended it my way while asking, “Briyana, right?”
Nodding, I accepted his handshake and replied, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I was just telling Lance earlier that your food always looks so amazing.”
Honestly, with how good the man looked, it only made sense that his food kept that same energy. And I was grateful when he pointed out a stack of reusable containers in the fridge that had been filled with meals just for me, the gesture bringing me back to Lance who was already busy checking me out.
At least, I thought he was checking me out. But I quickly learned that it was less about me and more about the shoes I had on once he commented, “Those are tough. Where’d you find them?”
“Actually, these are a Briyana Hayes original,” I answered with a proud grin that made one of Lance’s eyebrows raise curiously when he asked, “You made those?”
“Sure did.”
“Where mine at?” Lance followed up with a frown that had me chuckling as I told him, “On the internet waiting for you to make them.”
“Nah, I want a Briyana Hayes original,” he insisted with a smirk, abandoning his post at the stove to pull me into a loose, low hug that I suppose he was using to persuade me.
Like I needed persuading.
Between him cooking for me, and complimenting my creations, and everything he’d done to my coochie in the last twenty-four hours, there wasn’t a lot he could’ve asked me for in this moment that I wouldn’t have made happen. Though I did find it in me to,at least, stand my ground when I told him, “Well they can’t be exactly like these. Everything I make for myself is one of one.”
“Aight, well how about you make me a different shoe but with the same colorway then?”
“I can do that,” I agreed with a nod, excited about the prospect as the ideas almost instantly started flowing in my head. And I suppose that was a good thing since Lance wasn’t faking at all, giving a nod himself as he casually responded, “Bet. You can use my iPad. It’s in the living room.”
“Damn. Putting me on the spot, huh?” I asked teasingly as I pulled myself out of his hold to head that way while Lance went back to the stove where he answered, “Hell yeah. You got a little time. Dinner should be ready in a few.”
It was honestly wicked how much just hearing him say that turned me on. But for the sake of our company, I didn’t act on how I felt, instead choosing to focus on the task at hand of grabbing Lance’s iPad and then making myself comfortable on the couch where I dove headfirst into creative mode.
Since I already had a color palette to go off of, it was relatively easy to create a foundation for the Air Max 90s that offered the same exact options. But once that was laid, I got to playing around with different ways to make them unique, Lance eventually coming to check in on me which somehow turned into him giving hisunsolicitedinput from behind the couch.
“Yeah, I like that.”
“The rainforest green would be hard on the swoosh.”
