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“I thought you were bullshitting me.”
John returned with the menus and left as quickly and quietly as he’d arrived after placing them on the table.
“I try not to do that, Witherspoon.”
Ignoring his white flag, I pressed on. “And where does Juggy live? With you? I know it was him helping you out on Saturday with that romantic setup.”
I eyed him closely, keenly watching for inconsistencies in his tenor or expressions.
But Jas chuckled again quietly, swiping the side of his nose with his thumb. “Nah, man. Jug stays at the crib a lot. Even got his own space on the lower level. But he don’t live there. Jug owns properties here in Jersey and in Harlem, mostly apartment buildings. He’s with me more than anything, so he stays at my spot more than he does his apartment.” Then he lowered his face and raked his hands from the nape of his neck to his forehead. “And I hope I ain’t freak you out with the candles and flowers. He did help set it up while we were on our way there, but I can vouch for my man not being a creep and watching the show.”
An unexpected grin spread on my face and I didn’t catch it in enough time to kill the stupid thing. Embarrassed, I forced myself to look away with crossed arms.
“It’s all good. We’re moving beyond Saturday. Right?” Jas’ voice was nurturing. Sincere. “You ready to decide on dessert or cigars?”
I reached for the menus. “So, you don’t drink or smoke…or pop pills?” He shook his head, going for his water. “Then what do you do?”
Jas shrugged. “I work and I…worship.”
“That sounds boring.”
“It keeps me out of trouble, Witherspoon.”
That made me think of his mental health. “Is that really why? Are you afraid of returning to your illegal life?”
Jas shook his head. “Not at all. I’m good where I am. I’ve got a few businesses here and there that have been profitable. It takes up a lot of my time.”
“And what about violence? Do you struggle with keeping your cool?”
His eyes raked up to me. “That’s more of a fear of mine. That’s why I don’t do clubs or social shit with a bunch of people.”
“Then how do you own and run a club?”
“It’s one of the things I invested in before getting locked up. I’ve never run it. The deal was I would when I came home. Lately, I’ve been trying to figure out a way to ask Man to take it off my hands. I ain’t interested in nightlife.”
“Then why were you at the Young Lord concert?”
“Politics.”
At that cryptic answer, I began to look over the dessert menu. I wasn’t in the mood for anything sweet at the moment, my mind was in overdrive with the revelations the creature across from me was unpacking.
“One last question.”
“Go for it.”
“You tell any of this to the women you’ve dated?” Jas shook his head and I believed him. Who would share these delicate details of their past with just anyone? But I didn’t understand what made me so special. Why was he telling me? “Another question.”
“You said the last one was the last one.”
“Jas…” I whined.
“I’m fuckin’ with you.”
“Okay.” Excitement filled my lungs. “Are you still dating? Who’s the girl of the month now?”
“Witherspoon, after my fuck up last weekend, you think I had time to go fuck up some more?”
“You’ve got the filthiest mouth of any worshiper I’ve ever known.”
