Page 19 of Loving a Libra (BLP Signs of Love #7)

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Out to celebrate.”

“What are we celebrating?”

“Us, the baby, the dress you found on the rack that fits over your tiny bump, Maurice accepting my offer with no questions asked or back and forth, and my new business venture. The list goes on, baby. We have a lot to celebrate.”

“You’re right.”

It had been a little over a week since Maurice crashed out.

Since I blocked him, I had no idea if he was still ranting about my betrayal.

Tariq hadn’t mentioned anything, so I assumed Maurice had calmed down.

I finally felt completely free of him. I would still love to see his face when he finds out about Tariq and me, but it wasn’t that serious.

I’d moved on, and I prayed he did as well.

“I can’t believe Maurice bought you out without much convincing.”

“It was either that, or I sell my half to the first person who showed interest. He wanted control over the situation, so he didn’t want that. After a few questions that had nothing to do with ERL , he had his lawyer read the paperwork and called his bank to approve the transfer of the money.”

“Neither of us having to deal with him anymore is definitely cause for a celebration. Too bad I can’t have any alcohol or smoke a blunt.”

Tariq chuckled as he helped me into his car. Once he was in the driver’s seat, he responded.

“A blunt would be nice after the meal we’re about to have. Remember the first time we smoked together?”

I smiled as I thought back to that day.

“Yeah. You thought I was a lightweight.”

“Shit! I’ve never been more wrong. I haven’t been that high again since that day.”

“Me either. I suppose I won’t be for a while either. Since I’m carrying your baby, you can’t get high either.”

“I guess that’s fair, but you’ll probably drive me to have a drink or two within the next five months,” he teased.

“Don’t do me like that. I haven’t been too bad.”

“No, you haven’t, but it’s still early.”

“Whatever. I could be much worse, considering this is our first official date.”

He pondered for a moment before responding. “I guess it is. That’s crazy.”

“I would have to agree since you bought me a house, we’re engaged, and I’m carrying your child. I gotta do better and expect more.”

I pouted, folding my arms across my chest, pretending to be mad.

“You ain’t on the run no more, baby. We outside, baby. Where do you want to go? ERL ?”

I knew he was joking about ERL , but their food was top-notch.

“First of all, I wasn’t on the run. I was simply trying to make a smooth exit from a bad relationship. Secondly, I have been craving wings from ERL . Do we have to stop eating there since you sold your portion?”

“Why would I give that nigga my money?”

“I’ll use my money. Those wings are to die for.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Anything you want, baby, but hopefully, you’ll enjoy this restaurant. I thoroughly enjoyed it when I visited.”

“You got me all dressed up and in heels, so my expectations are high.”

We rode in silence with soft jazz music in the background.

When he pulled up to the valet, I allowed the young gentleman to help me out while Tariq came around.

He gave the young man his keys, took the ticket, and asked me to put it in my purse.

Once that was done, we entered the cozy, upscale restaurant, holding hands.

After Tariq gave the host our names, he led us to a small table in the back.

“Is this your first time here?” the host asked.

“Her first, but I’ve been here a few times.”

He proceeded to share the specials and some of his favorites on the menu. Before leaving, he placed a menu in front of each of us and promised the server would be with us shortly.

“The food he described sounds delicious. How’d you hear about this place?”

“I came here for a business meeting about six months ago. After eating the best soul food I’d ever had in my life, my mother’s included, I found out they were on the verge of going bankrupt.”

“Really? If the food is that good, I’m glad they found a way to stay open so I could try it.”

He smiled and looked at his menu. I got lost for a moment looking at his handsome face before I focused on the menu.

“Wait a minute. This place is called Devyn’s Soul Food ?” He nodded. “My name isn’t that common, and the spelling is even less common. Tariq, what’s going on?”

“This is my new business venture. As I said, they were close to bankruptcy when I visited. I met with the owner to see what was needed to keep them open. It took a few months to iron out the details, but ultimately, I became a silent partner. At the very last minute, I added one final request.”

“Devyn’s?” He nodded. “You named a whole restaurant after me, and we weren’t even together?”

“I did, and not long after they agreed to the name . . .”

“We became us. Wow! Talk about manifesting. This is—I can’t even put into words.”

He was seated next to me, but I still got out of my seat to show him my appreciation. Naturally, he pulled me onto his lap, and I showered kisses all over his face.

“Don’t get nothing started in here, baby.”

“I will let you fuck me on this table, Mr. Silent Owner.”

“Don’t tempt me, because the thought got my dick hard. Go back to your seat.”

After a few more kisses, I returned to my seat, still in awe of what he’d done.

“So, is this your other business venture?”

“Yes. You’re the only person who knows I’m a silent partner.”

“When you say silent, exactly how quiet are you?”

He laughed. “A silent partner just means I invested money. I don’t deal with the day-to-day operations of the business. However, the owners occasionally come to me for advice on financial aspects and marketing.”

“Does that mean I can take a picture of the menu—wait, is there a sign on the building?” He nodded with a smile.

“How did I miss that? Can you take a picture of me outside with the sign when we leave?” He gave me another nod and smile.

“And can I post it on Flikstagram and say my man named a restaurant after me?”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

“This is crazy. I can’t believe you did this. This is such a . . . grand gesture. No one has ever done anything like this for me. Thank you, Tariq.”

“You’re welcome, baby. Let’s look at the menu before the server comes.”

“Is there anything you recommend?”

“Honestly, everything I’ve tried is good as hell. I’m sure you’ll be pleased with anything you choose.”

After a few minutes, I’d decided what I wanted. The server arrived, apologizing for the delay I hadn’t even noticed. She went ahead and took our drink and food orders before disappearing, leaving me and Tariq to continue to converse.

“So, umm. I talked to my father a few days ago.”

“Oh? How’d that conversation go?”

I sighed and shook my head. “I would love to know what he has against me.”

“Nah. I’m kinda glad you don’t know. I’m willing to bet my life that information wouldn’t serve you well. His beef with you is for him to deal with, not you.”

“I suppose you’re right. Anyway, I called him to tell him I was engaged and pregnant with his first grandchild. He said he hoped I wasn’t calling to ask him to pay for the wedding. No congratulations or anything of that nature.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I wish he’d had something positive to say, but you couldn’t have been surprised.”

“I’m always hopeful but never surprised. Sometimes, I want to forget he exists, but then I feel guilty. He is my only living parent.”

“I’ve voiced my opinion about him many times, but I’ll support however you choose to handle him. I got you forever, so you’ll never need him again.”

I gave him a half smile. “I know. Thank you for always listening.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

He lifted my hand from the table, bringing it to his lips and leaving a reassuring kiss.

My bladder had been vying for my attention for a minute, so I excused myself to the bathroom.

I tiptoed in my heels through the main dining room toward the sign indicating where the bathroom was.

As much as I loved the changes in my body, using the bathroom more frequently wasn’t one of them.

I didn’t think that would start until my final trimester, but clearly, I was wrong.

After using the bathroom and washing my hands, I took my phone from my purse and took a few selfies in the full-length mirror.

The brown fitted dress I wore looked amazing against my skin and showed off my baby bump perfectly.

With my head in my phone, looking at the pictures I’d just taken, I exited the bathroom.

“Devyn, right?”

I looked up at a vaguely familiar face leaving the men’s restroom.

“Umm . . .”

“I’m Jerome. Maurice and Tariq’s friend. We met earlier this year at ERL’s anniversary party.”

His name vaguely rang a bell, so I went with it. “Oh, yes. It’s good to see you.”

I began walking toward the main dining room, as did he.

“I don’t want to be too forward, but I ran into Maurice last week, and he told me you two were expecting. Congratulations!”

I touched my stomach as confusion filled my brain. “Oh, did he? Thank you.”

“My wife is expecting our first as well.”

“That’s great. Congratulations to you both.”

“Thank you.”

When it became apparent that we were headed in the same direction, he said, “Since we’re going the same way, I should probably stop by and speak to my boy.”

I giggled on the inside because Jerome was about to get the shock of his life, and I gave zero fucks. I honestly wanted to record the interaction, but didn’t want to be ratchet in this nice establishment named after me.

He continued to walk alongside me, and I thought the closer we got to my table, Jerome would notice it was Tariq sitting there, not Maurice. The men looked nothing alike, but I guess Jerome’s vision wasn’t great.

“Wassup, Tariq? I didn’t know you were here too. Did Maurice step out?”

Tariq stood to give Jerome a one-armed hug. “Wassup, bruh? It’s been a minute. As far as I know, Maurice isn’t here.”

“My bad. I ran into Devyn leaving the bathroom and assumed she was here with Maurice. Is he on his way?”

“C’mere, baby,” Tariq summoned, extending his hand.

I stepped in front of him, and he wrapped his arm around my waist, resting his hand on my stomach. I’d never seen someone with a more confused look than the one Jerome wore at that moment.

“I ain’t gon’ hold y’all. What the fuck is this?”

“What are you confused about?” Tariq asked.

I put my hand on top of Tariq’s, making sure my engagement ring was on full display.

“This some foul shit!” Jerome spat as he walked away, disgust filling his voice.

“No. What’s foul is the baby your boy told you he was expecting because it sure as hell ain’t with me,” I said to his back.

Tariq put his hands on my waist, turning me around, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, caressing the back of his neck.

“Who told you Maurice was expecting a baby?”

“Jerome just did, although he didn’t realize he was spilling tea. Did you know?”

“He told me when we went to D.C. I didn’t tell you because?—”

“It doesn’t matter, baby. Nothing Maurice has done in the past, is doing presently, or will do in the future matters to me.”

We shared a kiss, and Tariq helped me to my seat before returning to his. Once we were settled, our eyes connected for a moment. Simultaneously, we burst into laughter.

“Did you see the look on Jerome’s face?” I asked through laughter.

“Hell yeah. If what the fuck was a person, it would’ve been him right then. His expression was priceless.”

We continued to laugh as the server approached our table with our food, forcing us to gather ourselves.

“It looks like you two are enjoying yourselves. I hope our food adds to your experience,” she said as she placed our dishes in front of us.

“I’m sure it will. Thank you,” I said, still laughing.

“I’ll be back to check on you shortly. Is there anything you need right away?”

“No. We’re good. Thank you,” Tariq responded.

When she left, Tariq blessed the food. Before he began eating, he said, “How long you think it’ll be before Maurice is blowing up my phone?”

“I’d say in five, four, three—” Before I finished my countdown, Tariq’s phone rang. “Is that him?”

“Of course.”

“You gon’ answer it.”

“Nah. Let’s enjoy our meal.”

And that was precisely what we did after he put his phone on silent and placed it face down on the opposite corner of the table.

Between bites of deliciousness, he shared how much lighter he’d felt since he cut ties with Maurice, his ideas to help his family’s hardware store bring in additional revenue, and his excitement about our future together.

Tariq wasn’t a talker, and as he spoke, I realized how much I usually monopolized our conversations. Tariq was an amazing listener, and I took advantage of that, rarely giving him the opportunity to speak as freely as he did just now.

“Baby, I am so sorry.”

He looked genuinely confused. “Sorry? About what?”