He brought it to his lips and kissed it softly. “I know it’s soon, but maybe I can take you to breakfast, too, if you haven’t eaten already.”
I pulled my hand away from his and shook my head. “I need to be alone right now. I just got fired, and I need to process things and look for another job. You know… it may not be a good idea to go to dinner.”
“Please don’t renege on me, beautiful. I’m really sorry about your job. I’m going to call my boss when I leave here.”
I shook my head once again. “No. I don’t go back to where I’ve been tossed out. Some may call it pride, but whatever. I’ll starve before I go back to the people that didn’t appreciate all the good I’ve done. This is my first mistake in five years. I liked that damn job.”
“I feel like it’s my fault though. I was distracting you from your job. I never intended to take any money from you. I just wanted to see you again. So please, let me take you to dinner. I’ll back off until then. I can pick you up around five.”
“No. I’ll meet you wherever we’re going. I don’t know you like that, Mr. Dent.”
I had to play this shit up good. If I was comfortable enough to squirt on him, I would be comfortable being wherever he was. “Man, chill out with that Mr. Dent shit. You know my first name. Use it.”
My eyebrows lifted slightly. I supposed that was him letting me know that he wasn’t about to play with me. That was cool too. I liked an aggressive man. I stared at him for a second, secretly wishing I could give him another lap dance, then said, “Talk to you later, Jamel.”
He bit his bottom lip and backed away, so I closed my door and peeled out of there. I glanced in my rearview mirror to see him still standing there, watching me leave. That man was going to be the death of me. What was I afraid of? I made a legal U-turn in the street. Fuck those people at that job. I refused to allow them to have me depressed and crying and shit. When I got back to the parking lot, Jamel was still sitting there.
I got out of my car and walked to his. When he put his window down, I said, “I haven’t had breakfast. You ever been to Le Peep?”
He smiled slightly. “Naw, but I’ll follow you, beautiful.”
I gave him a tight smile and walked back to my car. I had a feeling that he was watching my ass, but I didn’t care. Did I want to spend time with him knowing that he was fiending for a taste of Obsession? I still did. If he didn’t know that we were one in the same, then I would cross that bridge whenever we got to it.
* * *
“So what’syour last name, Sandrene?”
“Jallow.”
We’d just been seated at Le Peep’s for breakfast, and it felt like we were playing twenty-one questions. We’d asked questions about our parents and whether we had siblings or not. He had a big family, and I had no family. I was still avoiding eye contact. I supposed old habits die hard. I was so used to avoiding people, and hiding, I didn’t know how not to. I didn’t know how to be open and just let it all hang out.
A waitress had come and gotten our drink orders, and I’d immediately asked for bottomless mimosas. I was currently drinking my third one as we waited for our breakfast. “You keep sucking that shit down like that, you gon’ be leaving your car here.”
I rolled my eyes. I frequented this place on Sundays and drank at least six of these things. “What made you want to become a crane operator?” I asked.
“I liked operating machinery. I found that out one summer when I worked for the city in Beaumont. They taught me how to operate a few of them. I didn’t have to go to school long to get certified, and I get to travel on someone else’s dime.”
“Sounds like the perfect job then.”
“For me it is, since I’m single.”
I nodded. “So what do you like to do?”
He looked away for a moment. I took the opportunity to take a sip of my mimosa. “Honestly?”
I frowned for a second. I had a feeling where this was going, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know now. I nodded and he continued. “I really don’t do much of anything besides play basketball from time to time. I’ve been partying, playing the field, and hanging with a few of my boys, hitting up clubs and shit, but lately, I’ve been stuck at this strip club. Things seem to be changing for me though. I’m tired of turning up all the damn time.”
My eyebrows lifted when he mentioned the strip club, and I was hoping he wouldn’t say more about it. “I can understand that. I’m twenty-eight, and I feel the same way.”
“I just turned thirty this past weekend.”
I pretended to be surprised as I said, “Oh! Happy belated birthday!”
“Thank you.”
“Well, let me treat you to breakfast.”
“Didn’t you just lose a job? Naw. I wouldn’t even feel comfortable with that.”
