Page 32

EIGHT

I extended an arm and waited patiently for Rome to grab ahold. She was in no hurry and neither was I. I could wait all fucking night if she needed me to.

The pocket mirror worked in collaboration with the lights from the sun visor to help her finalize a layer of lip gloss. Her eyes were trained on her reflection in the round piece of glass. Slowly, she painted her lips.

The top one.

The bottom one.

A little more on the top.

A faint line on the bottom.

Clearing the bits that had gone outside of the lines.

Then, finally, Rome pressed her lips together, satisfied with her results. She stuffed the tube and compact mirror in her purse once she’d finished.

Mesmerized with her beauty, I didn’t realize her fingers were wrapped around mine, waiting for the assistance I’d volunteered. Not until a chill crept up my spine and the weight of my heart increased suddenly.

“Thank you,” she spoke with clarity.

Her nose pierced the air. Her pebbled nipples followed. She unleashed her inner feline, leaving me struck and unable to move. From behind, I watched her collect herself on the pavement just feet away from the door of the establishment we were headed inside of.

“Well, well. Tonight might just be my lucky night. How are you this evening, ma’am?”

“I’m well, Joshua.”

Georgio’s was no secret in Mt. Clarke. It lived up to every bit of the hype from the Black and wealthy of the city. The guest list was closed months in advance. A spot was hard to come by if you weren’t familiar with the staff, the owner, or someone who brought value to their brand.

Seeing that Rome was familiar with the staff was no surprise. I’d rolled the dice and hoped I was bringing her somewhere out of her realm, but she was making it clear that there weren’t many parts of Clarke she hadn’t visited.

“It’s been quite a while. Four years at least, huh?”

“Sounds about right–” she responded with a smile, genuinely happy to see the young man handling the parking of the cars for Georgio’s. “Good seeing you.”

He turned to me and nodded.

“Good evening, Sir! Or, should I call you Champ?” He greeted me.

“Evening. Champ?” I tittered, “A little soon, huh?”

“Not exactly. I’m trusting my gut. We’re going all the way. Reservations?”

Chuckling, I nodded. “Something of the sorts.”

Of course I had reservations or I wouldn’t be on the property.

It would be pointless, almost. Not because you couldn’t buy your way inside the place, but because there wouldn’t be any empty tables if you did.

A seat at the bar didn’t do the spot much justice.

You needed a seat, preferably one near the windows.

“If the keys are still inside, your host, Olla, will escort you to your table.”

“Yeah. They’re still inside,” I assured him, eyes still fixated on Rome.

She didn’t falter under observation. Neither did she fold. Her confidence was intoxicating. She was the muse. She knew it and so did everyone around her, including Joshua.

“Enjoy your time at Georgio’s. It’s our top priority. Champ. Ma’am .”

With a nod, Joshua took off in the opposite direction.

“Good evening, Ma’am. Sir. I’m Olla. I’ll be seating you this evening.”

Olla was beautiful. She was in the uniform of every Georgio’s employee. All black. Down to the shoes.

“Evening, Olla. You’re lovely,” Rome complimented.

Olla’s round face lit up like a Christmas tree in late December. Pride inflated her chest. She was glowing from two simple words.

“Thank you. I truly appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

It took absolutely nothing from Rome to lift another woman up. I played the background, openly admiring them both. They were beautiful in their own rights. Rome, however, was my only true love interest.

“You’re lovely yourself. That skin of yours is worth the envy of every woman in Clarke. It’s unprofessional of me, but I’m begging for your secret.”

“Seven Skyn. The Sevyn Summers Duo .”

“You’re a true lifesaver. I’ll be on that website tonight. I’ve heard great things about that brand!” Olla informed Rome, leading us to the door.

“They were all true,” Rome confirmed with a head nod.

The pleasure she exuded in giving a small tip to a woman was noticeable. It overruled all her other emotions, displaying a side of her that I was looking forward to getting more familiar with.

I extended an arm toward the door, but was unable to grip it before it was pushed open. I stepped aside and allowed both women to enter.

Silence .

Our footsteps echoed in the distance. Solitude was the mission for the night, and I’d managed.

It wasn’t easy getting Georgio’s to call everyone on his guestlist and inform them of the sudden change.

Neither was it cheap. I promised him three hours and he could be back in business.

With luck, I’d give him back his restaurant in two.

There was one other place I wanted to take Rome, but first I wanted to feed her and buy her a drink so she could take the edge off.

I observed as her eyebrows crinkled. Worry lines gathered on her forehead. She was partly surprised, partly impressed. I considered them both a win, regardless of how significant they were.

Bingo .

I felt like I’d hit on a slot machine at Winsom. Rome was obviously well-traveled, well-loved, spoiled, and introduced to the finer things in life from a very young age. Broadening her spectrum brought me joy.

We stepped onto the elevator, joined by the attendant who was paid six figures to push buttons and greet guests from four o’clock in the evening until two o’clock in the morning when Georgio’s shut its doors to the public. Anything beyond the two o’clock hour was strictly private.

Olla stood in the front of the elevator, staring at the silver doors she was about a foot shy of. When they opened, she stepped off. She led us around a corner or three before stopping in front of the glorious, floor to ceiling windows that made up the top floor entirely.

“Here.”

It wasn’t until we reached the table closest to the astonishing view of Clarke that she stopped. The city lights, highways, byways, service roads, skyscrapers, towers, hills, and entry to the mountains were our background.

I slid back Rome’s chair and waited until she was comfortable before helping her scoot up. As she settled, her eyes lingered on the two bags next to her. We were seated at a table for four though it was only two of us.

Her eyes finally landed on me as I had a seat across the table. Her nostrils were wide, so were her eyes and lips. Excitement cruised through her veins. I scoffed, clearing my throat as a smirk snuck up on my lips.

Bingo, again .

“You brought gifts.” She smiled.

“I brought gifts, Ms. Mellow.”

“In seemingly great taste. Admittedly, I wasn’t expecting anything after you showed up empty-handed.” She chuckled.

I tilted my head, catching the sly insult, but I took it on the chin and made a note to never show up empty-handed when taking Rome on a date.

“Scratching shit off your gift list.”

Puzzled, she asked, “I have a gift list?”

“Not exactly. I just have an ongoing list of things I’d gift the woman I found worthy if I ever got the chance. Shit I see while shopping. On my homies wives. On the big screen. Online. Just things, most of which will hold their value over the years.”

“Interesting,” she responded, leaning over to grab the Chanel bag.

I stood, knowing the boxes inside were too heavy for her to pick up with one hand while seated. She accepted the help without saying a word. It was becoming clearer that she’d been taught to let a man be a man when a man was around.

She hastily allowed me to take on any task that didn’t quite suit her, no matter how big or small, without a peep, protest, nervousness, declaration that she could do it herself, or excuse for why she couldn’t.

I observed as she removed the bow and then the top of the first box.

Slowly, her face lit up with glee. The classic, lambskin Chanel flap was pink, the staple color for ballerinas across the world.

She removed it from its casing and slid it on her shoulder.

It was as perfect as I’d imagined it would be against her glowing skin.

“You’re–” I paused, getting comfortable in my seat.

Rome was stunning. She had me at a loss of words.

Seeing her in something I’d purchased enhanced her beauty even more.

I was ready to call the Chanel boutique myself to order a hundred more of them motherfuckers.

Louis Vuitton as well and she hadn’t even opened that damn gift yet.

“I don’t know if I have the words for exactly what you are– how you look tonight– for you at all, honestly. ”

“I have one for you,” she confessed.

“Yeah?”

“You’re generous .”

Chuckling, I shook my head. “How so?”

“This size of the Chanel shopping bag, I know it’s at least twenty thousand inside.

This purse alone is over eleven thousand dollars and I still have a box to go.

Two, if you include the large LV shopping bag which I’m assuming only has one box inside.

You’ve cleared Georgio’s– of all places . I’m partly impressed, Saint.”

“Partly?” I chuckled with a nod, only truly emphasizing the next to last word.

She shifted those pretty eyes around the restaurant as if she was looking for something and then back to me after only a second or two.

“Yes, Saint. I am impressed. Partly.”

I nodded, appreciating her honesty. She was making it clear that I had to bring out all the stops to earn a spot on her team.

Not because she was more interested in what I could do for her than how I made her feel, but because part of the way I made her feel would have everything to do with the experiences I created.