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“Shut up, her name is Joyce, and she is the owner and creator of Melanique,” I say as I find a place in the store to sit.
“Let me take a look,” he says, and I can hear him typing in the background. “Hmm, that’s strange.”
“What is?” I say, instantly alert.
“Well, her name is Joyce Haynes. She’s forty-six years old. No kids, no husband and founder, owner, and creator of Melanique. But that’s it. Her records only go back to the creation of her company. Before that, Joyce Haynes didn’t exist,” he says.
“Find out who she is, Jabarri,” I tell him, but I know he is intrigued and will dig even without me telling him to.
“I got you,” he says and hangs up.
As expected, the products sell out and as Joyce is packing up to leave, I make my way over.
“Are you stalking me?” she asks.
“Um no, I was here to get your products like everyone else. But I wanted to ask you to dinner. Our previous encounter was over too quickly. I’m Joseph, by the way,” I tell her.
“Well Joseph, I would love to have dinner with you. Where would you like to go?”
“What kind of food do you like? There are a lot of great restaurants around here,” I tell her, wanting to give her the choice.
“Does it look like I am picky when it comes to food?” she says with a chuckle. I take a slow perusal of her from head to toe and I like everything I see. If she is referring to not being a single digit size, I can only say I am happy she is not skinny. I love every single pound on her right where they are.
“If that’s the outcome of you not being picky with food, I’ll feed you every day for the rest of your life,” I tell her. “Now what are you in the mood for? There’s a pretty good steak restaurant not far from here.”
“I could go for a good steak tonight,” she says. And I am wondering what steak she’s referring to; either way I can satisfy her cravings.
“Steak it is. Where are you staying? I’ll pick you up,” I offer.
“I’m staying at The Grand Hotel.”
“Aww Peter’s hotel. How about we eat at the steakhouse there? Their food is pretty amazing,” I say.
“Sounds good. I’ll meet you in the lobby at seven pm, Joseph. By the way, I’m Joyce. I know you probably heard me say that when I was talking about the products, but I did not introduce myself to you. So, nice to meet you,” she says. I am not sure I have ever met a woman like her before. She did not seem to be embarrassed by our tryst in the stockroom, nor has she been bashful or evasive. I’m not sure how I feel about it; I like it and don’t at the same time.
“Nice to meet you too,” I say as I take her hand and kiss her inner wrist before I release it. I reach into my inside jacket pocket and hand her a business card. “It has my personal cell number on there, feel free to text or call if something comes up, and I’ll see you at seven,” I say, turn on my heels and walk out of the store.
