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“Hey pretty girl, what can I get for you?” a woman called, from behind the front counter. I stopped my observation of the space to zero in on her – a beautiful woman a few shades lighter than me, with thick short-cropped curls.
More warmth.
“Um… this is my first time here, actually. So I’m not sure,” I told her, not fighting the urge to draw closer.
“That’s no problem – I’ve got recommendations, starting with the mac&cheese unless you’re lactose intolerant or vegan or something. I made it today, so you picked a good one for your first visit,” she told me, lowering her voice for the last part like she was telling me a secret.
Before I could offer any response, a male voice bellowed, “She lyin’!” from… somewhere. A moment later, a tall,fineass man came bursting through the swinging doors of the kitchen, scowling at the woman behind the counter. “You think I can’t hear you, woman?”
“I think you need to mind your business before you scare off this customer,” she countered, the smile in her eyes and on her lips contradicting his glare.
“She ain’t scared. You ain’t scared, are you?” he asked me, wrapping a big arm around the woman to drag her against his side as she giggled. “Ay, you’ve gotta come throughtomorrowif you want thegoodmac&cheese.”
“Mixing it up will be your only reminder of a certain sound for a while if you don’tgo somewhere,” she said, pinching him,hard, under the arm.
“You somean,” he yelped, jumping away from her as he rubbed the tender spot. “Hey,” he said, addressing me again. “Remember what I told you.”
“Nixon.”
“Okay bye!” he called, disappearing back through the kitchen door as she aimed a swat at him.
“I’m sorry,” the woman said, her face flushed with happiness as she turned back to me. “I’m supposed to be recommending a plate for you, not playing around with my foolish husband.”
I shook my head, returning her smile. “No, it’s fine. Y’all are sweet,” I assured her, not bothered in the least by their display. If anything, it was a bright spot in this gloomy ass day, seeing their natural chemistry.
The kind of love I’d feigned for the purposes of a mission, but neveractuallyexperienced before.
That whole interaction could’ve been pulled right from a training video.
“Did you want to try the mac?” she asked, taking us back to the matter at hand. “If you eat meat, we can put some fried chicken with it, some greens, some yams…”
“Yeah that sounds amazing, sign me up.”
She grinned. “I gotcha sis.”
I paid for my meal and then ventured to the open dining area to take a seat. It wasn’t prime lunch time, so it was semi-empty enough for me to relax and let my mind drift.
Back to the candle shop.
Damnthat space for being so intriguing, cause now I was wondering about it. Well… daydreaming, really.
I didn’t need money, thankfully, so I didn’t have to give a job much consideration. The work force wasnotready for me, nor was I ready for it.
I had some acclimating to do first.
What Icoulduse, was a hobby – one I could safely engage from the privacy of my own space, without anybody getting into my damn business. Honestly… I was getting a little excited about the thought of figuring out the whole process without much instruction, blending and formulating my own scents.
I did good with something to focus on.
Unfortunately, the bell over the front door drew my attention, breaking me away from my thoughts. My eyes instinctively went to the new arrival, going wide for a moment at the familiar sight of locs, a beard, and dark bronzed skin.
Tristan.
I watched, enthralled, as he interacted with the woman behind the counter –Charlie, according to him. They talked and laughed while he ordered his food, their conversation drawing Nixon back out to the front to join the fun for a few moments before Tristan moved on, to take a seat and wait for his meal.
I’d already looked away, pretending to bury my attention in my phone, but of course he spotted me.
“Ms. Not Interested,” he said, and I looked up in time to see him taking it upon himself to slip into the seat across from me in the booth I’d claimed. “So Ididend up seeing you around.”
