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“It is. I… I might be falling in love with her.”
Soft gasps filled the room.
“You’re serious?” Barry asked, sounding more surprised than skeptical.
“Very,” Montez replied. He’d realized, when he woke up at her house one night and found himself staring at her, that he wanted to be in a position to wake up next to her every day from then on.
His mother touched his forearm. “If that’s the case, I’m happy for you, and I hope your relationship works out. One day when you’re ready, we would love to meet her.”
The conversation returned to business. Their father went over the financials and discussed the health of the company in comparison to the previous month and the same period last year. They wrapped up thirty minutes later with their mother giving a short speech about the direction the company was going in and her appreciation for all their hard work.
As they filed out of the conference room, Devonte tapped Montez on the shoulder. “Forget what I said earlier. If the reason you’ve been avoiding the clubs is because you found a woman you really like, I think that’s a good thing.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t hang out and spend time together anymore, but I’m no longer interested in clubbing. We could do other shit.”
“How about a concert? A client gave me tickets to a T-Murder performance that’s coming up. Maybe you, me, your girl, and some lucky female that I ask can go together.”
Montez laughed. “I’d like that.”
“I’ll let you know the details later,” his brother said as he walked away.
Montez went into his office and shut the door. He swiveled in his chair, thinking about the one person who had dominated his thoughts in the middle of the meeting. He had a sudden desire to speak to her, and after a while finally gave in to the urge and made the call.
“Hey,” Desiree answered.
“Are you busy?”
“I can take a break. What’s up?”
Montez popped his feet on top of the desk. “Nothing. Just thinking about you and wanted to hear your voice.”
18
Montez looped his arm around Desiree’s shoulders, and she leaned into him as they strolled toward the front door of her apartment building.
The T-Murder concert had been a blast, with seats right up front. He had been shocked she knew the words to the songs and rapped with the artist at the top of her lungs. Every time they were together, he learned something new and interesting about her.
“It’s crazy how good he is at his age,” Desiree remarked.
“He’s only about five years older than us,” Montez pointed out.
“Oh yeah. He seems much older, but I guess it’s because of all the drama surrounding him and his wife when he lost her and won her back again.”
“That whole thing was crazy the way it played out in the media. I would never want to be famous.” Montez grimaced.
Desiree opened the door and let them inside. “Are you staying the night?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I washed your shirt and boxers from last time,” she said, leaving him in the living room to walk to the kitchen.
“I was planning to sleep naked.”
Montez sat on her sofa with his back to the window. The apartment was small but had a ten-foot ceiling that made it seem bigger. She decorated in neutral colors—grays, creams, and beiges—for a contemporary design and incorporated her nature photography with clusters of images on the wall. The overall aesthetic was much better than his place, which he often referred to as “eclectic.”
Desiree was very intentional with her design choices by picking modular furniture that had multiple uses. Like this gray, U-shaped sofa, which could be split into several pieces or transformed into a queen bed that an overnight guest could sleep on.
She returned to the living room with two bottles of water and handed one to him. “You could sleep naked if you want.”
