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“Yeah, but my meat needs more threading,” Corinne explained. “Look at this one.” She showed a latte-hued one piece on a wooden hanger with the company’s logo engraved into it.
“Cute!” Peach squealed.
I fought rolling eyes. My mind was on to other things like food. I needed to fill my empty stomach. We were atShort Hills Mall, shopping for something to wear to the Tori McNabb fight this week. Jas had bought out a half a row with my friends in mind. As the date approached, I had to finally figure out what to wear. Work had been beating my ass, and Jas had been even more demanding.
He’d broken things off with Josie. After that morning in his den when I sucked that last ounce of his desire for her from him, Jas ended his “friendship” with Josie. I didn’t have time to wonder how she felt about his decision. We’d been spending mostly every night together. I was smart enough to tell Noelle about us “dating” again before she moved in. I knew she’d see him over a lot, or know Chi-Chi and I were at his place. It was only right not to blindside her. The problem was the message I was sending to my sister about what dating was: we’d been sharing a bed at night. She was old enough to know what fucking looked like. That didn’t sit too well with me, but we had lots of adjusting to do.
In other news: Jas mentioned taking me away to the Caribbean for my birthday coming up in two weeks. Earl Ellis owned an island near Antigua and was allowing us to stay there for the weekend. I’d been debating if I wanted to take Chi-Chi. The idea thrilled me because I’d be leaving for the Pixie tour at the end of September and wouldn’t be home until Thanksgiving. This time, the prospect of parting from my family was met with unbearable sadness. So, I’d take the trip to the Caribbean with or without Chi-Chi. I just wanted to make great memories with my family.
“What do you think about this wrap?” Peach asked, grinning with pride.
“It’s tan,” I remarked, annoyed. “Why are y’all attracted to these nude shades?”
I walked off, needing to get out of there. Food. I needed sustenance. I’d already purchased a few pieces from the boutique, and was ready to eat.
“Whatever, Shi-Shi!” Corinne shouted to my back.
I wandered into the hall, loving the virtual emptiness a weekday shopping event offered here.
Ooooh….
I found myself meandering into a cute baby boutique. The cribs and other furniture pieces caught my eye. I adored the patterns and colors on display. It made me realize how much the nursery styles had changed over three short years. I enjoyed decorating Chi-Chi’s nursery. Suddenly, I giggled at the memory of Jas biting off of me for his own.
“Damn,” an accented man remarked. “That is you.”
Haris stood just inside the small boutique, his smile just as illuminating as always. As a modestly handsome man, it was his best feature.
I found my smile. “It is. How are you?”
He shrugged, beam still bright. “It was good until I saw you, love.”
That was odd. Coming into view from the window of the store were two women. They were gazing curiously inside.
“Haris,” one called with an accent herself I couldn’t identify.
He peered over his shoulder. “One second, sweetie.” Then his attention returned to me.
“I hope I’m not keeping you from anything.”
“No. Not since I flew all the way down to Costa Rica to visit you, all for you to touch my ‘old man’ and run off. You even blocked me.”
I blinked, stunned and embarrassed. “I did, did I?”
“You did, being a little bitch. Did you also run and tell your baby daddy?” His attempt at American slang repulsed me.
“Did I? I hear you’ve reached out to him as well.”
He shrugged. “Just business, my love.”
“Oh. Okay.” I bit my lip nervously. How long would this awkward encounter go? “Good. Just so you know, Jas isn’t very friendly. His business astute is off the meters, but socially…” I shook my head. “He’s a bit challenged, which is why I thought it was best to…cut things off with you.”
“Oh, really?” His smile broadened. “I thought it was because you got a touch of a real man, thought you couldn’t handle it, and ran back to your American corner thug.”
That incensed me. “A corner thug who would rip your ass into pieces with his bare hands.” I cringed then sighed, “Haris, it was nice knowing you. No need for us to ever speak again.”
“You don’t mean he’d shoot me with one of the big guns he’s been on record for firing and expiring lives with?” He winked. “I can’t beat a bullet, but I’d beat your thug’s arse with these fists.”
Where had Haris’ ire for me began? He certainly showed none of this the few times we dated. Was it all a ruse?
