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He chuckled. “What makes wanting an American girl a fetish?”
“You’re a Nigerian from London. You skipped over two cultures to want an American girl. Humor me.” I brought my elbows to the table. “Why?”
“Because American girls dream of being swept off their feet, in love and happily ever after with the prince of your fairytale.”
“And that’s not the same for Nigerian and English women?”
“Not as it is for American, which makes you so special. I’m offering you culture and family.”
“Black Americans have culture and family.” I supplied a gentle smile.
“Yes, love, but it’s a bit convoluted, wouldn’t you say?”
I shrugged. “Not mine. I’m well-versed with my maternal lineage, leading back to the motherland, and even have a strong pride for my people. My family is huge.”
“But I can give you a more direct culture. My mum can take you to see the Esie figurines and to pray in Zaria at one of the churches on Prayer Mountain. You’re a praying woman. Am I not correct?”
My eyes fell at the answer. I had, indeed, evolved into a more spiritual being in the past two years, something very few people knew. And I mean very few. It was a new facet of my evolution. I hadn’t even told all of my best friends, which made sharing it with a random guy seem kind of shallow.
Haris scoffed. “My mum can show you a culture you’ve never seen. Isn’t it something you’d want for your daughter? A man who can give her what she’s never had and make her a woman envied by many?”
I inhaled, pacing my words and emotions as I reached for my wine glass. “My daughter has the benefit of culture and wealth. She’ll be taught what was taught to me by her grandmother.”
When I took a sip of my wine, Haris asked, “And what’s that?”
“That if marrying a man from her own race and culture—specifically her father’s—isn’t her first preference, there’s some soul searching that needs to be done.”
A passing frown shaded his face until his grin returned. “Then, love,” he scoffed. “that would make me…”
“Lacking pride for your culture?” I nodded, smirking my damn self. “Mmmhmm…” I picked up my fork to continue eating what was left of my fish. “But you’re cute, though. So, keep selling me on what you can bring to my life that I don’t already have.”
“I mean…” He stretched his arms. “This. Me. At your convenience. The moment I realized I wouldn’t be able to make your event this coming weekend, I flew here to Costa Rica to spend time with you. To say I’m sorry.”
I patted the corner of my mouth with the napkin, chewing the last of my fish. “I appreciate that. I really do.”
“And how many men can you say you know who can do this?”
My gaze danced against his, my head falling to the side. “Let’s make something clear.” He stretched his arms, inviting me to proceed. “We’re still getting to know each other. I’m open to learning things about you and sharing things about me as well.”
“Is that not what we’ve been doing?”
“Apparently, not fast enough for your presumptions. I’m not poor, Haris. I’ve never been. Yes, many American girls I know dream of the ‘right’ man, and I’m not much different.” I shrugged. “I’ve always wanted the rightpartner.”
Haris laughed, and not in a jovial way, but a condescending one. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those ‘I don’t need a man’ type of women, love. I’d never taken you for that. You seem far too bright.” The combination of the lifting of his cheeks and the pinching of the space between his brows was telling of his sarcasm and disappointment.
I shook my head before taking a sip of my wine. “I don’t need a man to make a good livingforme,” I tried explaining, sitting back in my chair. “I need one to partnerwithme. I don’t need to be financially taken care of. I need to be partnered with. I want to be needed, utilized, and appreciated just as much as I want to give those same attributes.”
His head angled, eyes glimmered expressively. “Whatever do you know about that, dear? You’re a single woman?”
My dishonest beam broadened again. “I haven’t always been. Even more than that, I’m in a partnership of sorts now. We may not be together romantically, but I rely on him to maintain my most prized possession on this planet. That transcends any romantic arrangement there is.We’re—” I shook my head, not wanting to speak on the temperature or design of my relationship with Chi-Chi’s father. “I’m simply trying to make the point if you think you’re wooing me with the promise of marriage, you shouldn’t waste your time. I’m not that type of girl.”
“Why is that?”
“Because if marriage is what I wanted, I could have had that many moons ago.”
“Then what do you want, my love?” The gleam in his eyes tantalized me.
I didn’t answer that question, not believing I owed Haris any explanation about my views on marriage. The prospect was not on the table…no matter how much he thought the possibility flattered me. Instead, I swirled my food with my fork on the plate as I redirected the conversation.
