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“Promises, promises,” she coos then heads towards the door.
I bite my lip once I realize the back of her dress is almost nonexistent. Shaking my head, I chuckle to myself. I need a drink.
Dinner went well. I was able to focus and talk to my wife like a man instead of a sex-hungry teen. I’m proud of her desire to strive for greatness although her career could be handed to her. She maintains a good front, but I know she’s stressed abo
ut the upcoming last semester of law school. I re-extended my offer to assist and shared some of the tricks that helped me when I was where she’s at.
Once our bellies are satisfied, her eyes light up as she claps her hands with excitement.
“I picked this place because my research says they make delicious Old Fashions.”
Our server appears just as she finishes her sentence. “Does that mean I need to put in an order for two?” he questions, always working the up sale.
“One for now and I’ll taste his.”
Once Calvin returns with my drink, I sip it and find that it’s top notch.
“If you’ve never had one, why did we come for Old Fashions?”
“I assumed it’s your favorite drink,” she tells me, her eyes flash with worry that she’s guessed wrong.
I grin because I’m flattered she cares. “It is. Thank you, baby. It’s almost as delicious as you.”
Imala blushes but leans in to pick up my drink. Her taking a sip then licking the excess off her lips while maintaining eye contact shouldn’t feel so erotic, but her simple actions carry the same weight of her talking dirty.
“It’s good. I’ll have to remember to compare.” I squeeze the glass tighter than necessary to refrain from dragging her back to the hotel but her soft pink lips are driving me to drink.
“So, what’s next on the agenda?” I ask after downing my drink and signaling for the check.
“Drink, dance, sex.”
Our server laughs because he reappeared with the check in time to hear her response.
“That’s my kind of date,” he jokes but is already off to settle the bill with the card I passed him.
“I’ve noticed you have a thing for dancing.”
She nods but she’s looking in the distance like she’s mentally recovering a fond memory.
“When I was younger, my parents put me in dance classes to work on my coordination and agility. I fell in love with it. Dancing also gave me a way to clear my mind when I was stressed.” Imala stands after I sign the bill but continues with her story. “I never committed to it full time because I chose to put more effort into academics, but I did keep current with lessons.”
I grab her hand and she laces her fingers in mine as we walk out into the slightly humid night. I smile as I imagine her younger self in a light pink leotard, hair in a tight bun, and her face the mask of seriousness. It’s the cutest damn thing I can picture in my head. I must get into the family photos once we’re back on the island.
“And what about now? Do you still go to classes?”
She nods and her happiness radiates from within. “Not only do I still make time for dance classes, I own the studio. I have a scholarship program that I fund for students who cannot afford it but have a passion for it.”
Now that I’m finished ordering a ride to the French Quarter, I turn so we’re facing each other and grab her other hand. On the sidewalk, people filter around us, lost in their own night plans. She’s so beautiful and her sweetness and grace is damn sexy. Now, I’m the one staring.
“I’ll add to the scholarship. We can double the effort.”
Her face splits into a smile. Imala leans in and kisses me, her heels make it easier for her to do without stretching.
“Thank you, Wyn. It’s a good way for children to build confidence. I’m not usually the life of the party, but I’m comfortable with myself and confident in my abilities.”
Her statement reminds me of a question I’ve been meaning to ask. “Why do you wear clothes that are too big for you?”
She giggles and we climb into the black sedan that has arrived for us. “Well, it started in puberty when I got these.” She points at my new best friends and I’m offended. “I was confused how they’re bigger than my sisters and I didn’t want the attention. Now, it’s habit and comfort but part of it still stands. I want to be admired for me and not my assets.”
