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Looking deep into her eyes, I searched for questions I couldn’t speak and answers Witherspoon couldn’t give. God, why had I crossed paths with her again? Why couldn’t my wife be as accessible…as fascinating? Why did I feel the confusion I’d been feeling? How long did I have to deal with the pointless shit I’d been feeling for this girl for months now? Witherspoon was not my destiny. Each moment with her drove me away from my plan. My future. This had been dead time. Time lost.
“Give me another chance.” The words floated from my chest and melted from my mouth. I had no fucking clue what I was saying.
But I did…
“Wha—” Witherspoon scoffed, blinking as she sat up. She was shocked, caught off guard. And it was probably because I sounded like a simp, longing. “What do you mean? A second chance at what?”
“At pleasing you. You said I was wack. Give me another chance.”
“How?”
“We can get a room at the spa up the street—a suite.” I corrected myself, remembering her pedigree.
“Cra—Crystal K’s?”
Ithoughtthat was the name of the spot. When some of the partners here needed a place to stay when visiting the property, they’d stay there. I was told it was pure luxury and our company had an account there, almost guaranteeing us a vacancy.
With her eyes, Witherspoon studied each inch of my face. Her mouth opened and the muscles in her face tensed. I’d fucked up. I broke the promise I made of only allowing her to get to know me. First John spoke about that in the second chapter. “But whoever keeps His word, truly the love of God is perfected in him. By this we know that we are in Him.” More than that, I wasn’t demonstrating leadership. Women craved leadership, even on the low.
“I can’t,” she damn near whispered, eyes falling and swinging left to right. “I’m not prepared to stay down here.”
“I can get you anything you need.”
She shook her head again, pulling from the cigar. Witherspoon blew it out. “I can’t stay down here, Jas.”
“Here you are.” John was back with two small bags for Witherspoon. “In here is the tiramisu you ordered to-go. The chef wrote down the recipe for the creamy leek and thyme sauce.” He raised the other paper bag with the printed cigar estate’s logo on it. “And here are three more sticks Mick, the roller, made for you. He said one is what you’re hopefully enjoying now and the others are variations ofPor el Amor del Amor.”
“Wow,” she breathed, standing on the stairs to receive them. “You guys are so generous here. So, kind. Thank you!”
“You’re very welcome. It’s our aim to please, but for guests of Jas, our goal is to impress.”
“You have!” Witherspoon assured in her Nubian Karen flair. Then she took it down. “Man, I wish I’d known about this place a few days ago. We celebrated my best friend’s birthday. This would have been a way better vibe. But now I know, so thanks again.”
“You’re very welcome, Ms. Witherspoon.” He bowed his head out of courtesy. “Jas, I hope we met your expectations tonight.”
I stood and pulled out an envelope. I knew the crew was tight and didn’t want to have them working just on GP, so I came prepared. But when Witherspoon went to the bathroom before sparking her cigar, I added more bills. Her happiness with the experience had me feeling generous instead of obligatory. “Here you go, chief. Tell the crew they did their thing tonight.”
John’s face opened. “Oh, man!Than—thank you!” He smiled widely, stuffing the thick envelope into his pant pocket. “I’ll let them know. We’re stoked about the grand opening of the new location. I’ve interviewed a few people I believe will blow everyone away.” He winked.
“Looking forward to it.” I nodded.
“Well…” John’s eyes bounced between Witherspoon and me, face lit with joy. “Goodnight to you two.”
“Night,” Witherspoon muttered before turning to me.
As John took long lunges toward the door, I asked her, “You ready?”
“Why didn’t he give you a bill? Do they do a pre-payment type of thing here?”
I scoffed. “Nah.” I took her bags from her hand, seeing the cigar was still lit.
“Good. Because that wouldn’t pair well with why you’re tipping them a drug dealer’s mattress stash of cash inside an envelope.”
My head fell to the side, begging her to chill.
“No.” Witherspoon shook her head. “You told me this was about getting to know you. I have the right to ask.”
“Maybe you do. Maybe you don’t.”
