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“We can work out a cash infusion with no issue,” Orion assured, shaking his head. “I could call twenty people right now who’d love to get into an investment like this. The money won’t be a problem.”
“I don’t want to have to answer to twenty investors,” was my immediate response, to which he smirked.
“You don’t need twenty anyway, just one.”
He raised an eyebrow with that statement, unnecessarily clueing me in to exactly who he was talking about—himself.
“We’ll talk about it.” I nodded, knowing better than to get into too much in front of his colleague.
And… honestly, not being sure if I’d accept or decline that offer.
The rest of dinner was uneventful. Stanford only stayed another few moments before excusing himself and Orion and I finished our meals and shared a dessert. Back at home, the house was quiet. Everyone had wound down already and retired to their rooms.
And now it was time formychoice.
I played this game with myself every night damn near, a “will I or won’t I”back and forth over joining Orion in his bed. I knew without a doubt I probablyshouldn’t, and yet… it was always a difficult decision.
Our contracted “schedule” had long flown out the window.
“Goodnight,” I told him at the top of the steps. His room was in one direction, mine in the other. His brow flexed, allowing a brief flash of confusion to cross his face before he nodded his acceptance.
He always accepted the answer.
Which shouldn’t have been a turn on. It should be the bare minimum rules of engagement for adults, and yet…
“We’ll talk about how much you need for the expansion over breakfast,” he said, grabbing me at the waist to pull into him. I wasn’t going to protest, but before I could’ve anyway, he dipped his head, bringing his lips to meet mine for a brief, sweet kiss.
“You’re already talking about it as if it were a foregone conclusion,” I said, lips still tingling a little, excited from the contact.
He shrugged as he let me go. “Isn’t it?”
Was it?
That question knocked around in my mind for the rest of the night, into the morning. I had to drag myself out of the bed, forcing myself not to miss our somewhat-agreed-upon breakfast date.
Discussing the numbers with Orion was almost…fun.
Whatever wariness I had over him getting his hands onNectar, I knew his ego was too big to let it fail while I was still his wife.
A fact it would be silly of me to not take advantage of while I could.
Any notion that Orion had simply lucked his way into a successful business due to nepotism was squashed as I listened to him speak. It was clear that he knew what he was talking about, knew this industry through and through. Not just that either. He was a visionary, honestly, playing off the things I said I wanted fromNectarto offer a plan that would see us not just expanding, but each location having its own energy and vibe.
In Blackwood,Nectarwas a melting pot of different flavors and Black cultures while still having a baseline in the history of migration—Black American at its core, but warmly welcoming diasporic influence, reflective of the city itself.
In the south, we could dive deeper into the roots of Black American history, with a focus on “down home” flavors and vendors, making sure to incorporate the Caribbean and Creole cultures, with respect to the proximity the location could offer.
In the west, besides leaning into the stereotypical “Californian” diet, we could integrate the Afro-Indigenous and Afro-Latino influence prevalent there, with a location that took full advantage of beach access and ocean views, all that.
It… made me a little emotional to think about.
There would have to be a huge investment of time to bring any of it to light, but theideaof it was exciting. I couldn’t even bring myself to play it cool. By the time breakfast was over, Orion was teasing the hell out of me because I couldn’t keep a smile off my face.
There was zero point in pretending otherwise.
I was…happy.
“Do Ihaveto have your security tail on me?” I whined on the way out of the house a little over an hour later. “I’m going straight toNectar, my friends are stopping through for lunch in the food court, and then I’m coming right home. What do you think is going to happen?”
