Page 2 of The Dating Prohibition

wheel. “We literally just hung up, Lani.”

“Well, don’t sit out in your car forever either. Someone already mentioned that they saw you pull up.”

Kendra rolled her eyes, kissing her teeth. “Get off my phone, ma’am. I need a sec.” Leave me be!

Lani dropped her voice to a gruff whisper. “Bring yo’ ass in here, ho. A certain someone been askin’ about you.” She drew out the last word teasingly. “Take a fuckin’ hint,” she whispered through gritted teeth.

Kendra’s face scrunched up as her head tilted, her mind racing to run through the list of everyone she expected to be present

in these final days of prep before the big launch. “Who?”

“Mr. Big and Sexy, the chocolate drop himself.”

Huh? Kendra blew out a breath loudly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Cousin, that description applies to half of the brothas

in the DMV. Can you be more specific?”

“If you don’t carry your behind on... You know what? We don’t have time for this.” Lani’s hushed tone changed to a loud

call. “Hey, look, y’all. I think that’s Keke’s car right there!” Voices in the background converged into a jumble drowned

out by a peal of villainous laughter.

I’m gonna kill her. “Lani!” Kendra snapped as the call disconnected.

So much for a moment of peace. She inhaled deeply, exhaling through her mouth before wiping the scowl from her face and climbing out of the car into a light breeze that made her pull her coat lapels closer to her neck.

She flung her tote bag over her shoulder as she crossed the narrow side street to enter the front door of the brightly lit restaurant with a giant banner and the word PALATE set between a set of cutlery. “Here we go,” she muttered.

As Kendra stepped onto a narrow welcome mat just inside the glass door, which had been propped open to allow in the sharp

almost-spring air, the scents of fresh paint and oranges wafted toward her. She peered around the dining room in search of

the chocolate drop Lani was hinting about, making eye contact with her brother, Logan, and her sister-in-law, Shonda, whose

face brightened as she headed toward the end of the bar to show some love. “Hey, you made it!”

“Yeah, I... whoa shit!” Kendra took one step forward and slipped, fully expecting to be met with the well-polished lacquered

hardwood when a pair of strong arms wrapped around her and righted her, the warmth of a large hand imprinting the small of

her back as her legs wobbled. “Right, careful with the floors... Thanks,” she laughed with embarrassment.

“Been a long time, Kenny,” a gravelly baritone voice caused her head to jerk upward. His sturdy six-foot frame drew closer,

holding her against his hip so that she could steady herself. The scents of smoky oud and tobacco emanated from his skin.

Kendra gulped as her eyes widened. Damn, he got even finer. BJ Stephens glowered at her curiously, the same way he had when they were teenagers, and Kendra’s cheeks warmed as she took

in his smooth umber skin. She’d never seen him in jeans and work boots before, but the look suited him.

“Hey, B, long time. How you been?” She reached up to wrap her arms around his neck as his wound around her waist. As she turned

her head to peck his cheek, he moved slightly and her lips landed at the angle of his jaw, just below his ear, his closely-groomed

beard soft against her skin. Her eyes bulged as she stepped back, unsure whether he’d think she tried to kiss his neck on

purpose. Clumsy and awkward . . . we’re off to a great start. She made space between them, willing her cheeks not to broadcast her embarrassment. She cleared her throat before looking

up at him.

BJ’s dark, spectacled eyes trained on her, his expression unreadable. “Good. But you’re the one who’s been gone. How were

your travels? Last I heard, you were cooking your way through Asia and Europe.”

Kendra beamed, nodding. “I loved every minute of it. Apprenticed under a few chefs, caught up with a few cousins when I hit

Thailand and the Philippines. Collected a ton of cooking techniques and recipes. Made some new friends and gave a few lessons

on Creole cooking.”

“You didn’t make new friends at the expense of old ones, I hope.” The corners of his mouth twitched, drawing Kendra’s attention

to his full lips. It always took a lot to make BJ smile. A laugh was even more rare but craveable. As long as Kendra had known

her brother’s best friend, she never was good at reading him. Once in a while, he’d allow his face to show his playfulness,

but most of the time, his underwhelmed, almost gruff expression remained constant. Joy, pain—even annoyance—were less common

expressions than the general grumpy-observer vibe he gave off. But behind the prickly mask was an intelligent, loyal, good

human who often put others before himself.

“Never that,” she laughed. They’d known each other for over two decades—ever since her family had relocated from New Orleans to the nation’s capital.

Kendra had been in middle school, and Logan was just about to start high school.

He met BJ his first day of classes, and they became fast friends after almost coming to blows over the attentions of the same girl.

Logan had brought BJ home for some of Momma’s cooking to make amends, and the rest was history—Momma won over many hearts with her Creole family recipes, and BJ’s was no exception.

Logan had been lucky. Truth be told, BJ would have whooped his ass.

BJ was a gym rat to the core, but as focused as he was on macros to build muscle mass, he made two exceptions without question:

Momma’s cookin’ and good whiskey. As he solidified his place within the family’s inner circle, he’d always been the one to

mediate Kendra’s arguments with her brother—a dependable voice of reason who wasn’t quick to pick sides.

Kendra and Logan never fought physically—Momma would never allow that—but Kendra would cut to the white meat with her words,

and when she went low, Logan went straight to the depths of hell. “You still enjoying the professor life? I heard you were

awarded tenure while I was out of the country. Congratulations are in order! I was really excited to hear the news. You’ve

worked so hard to get to this place.”

His head bobbed as he smoothed a hand over his facial hair. The top half of his dark, shoulder-length locs were twisted and

tied back away from his face as he regarded her intently. “Thanks! Yeah, it’s been good so far, but I’m on sabbatical this

semester. I need to do some research for my next book proposal.”

BJ taught courses on historic preservation, focusing on heritage conservation, architectural history and preservation, urban

planning, and adaptive reuse. Most of it went over Kendra’s head, but she loved that he focused a good amount of his work

on Black heritage tourism. The way that he highlighted the importance of transforming abandoned sites to frame and highlight

pivotal points in history had always been a source of inspiration for her.

Kendra tilted her head. “About that, actually, maybe I can pick your brain about something later. I’ve got something brewing businesswise, and it’s right up your alley.” She tapped his arm with her fingers and admired the results that his hard work in the gym had developed.

BJ’s eyebrows rose, but Lani slid across the floor Risky Business –style right into Kendra’s arms before he could respond. He nodded brusquely and sauntered back toward the bar, where Logan

was installing some shelving.

“Bitch, you made it!” Her cousin squeezed Kendra tightly before stepping back to assess her appearance, a wrinkle forming

between her eyebrows. Lani was all about vibrant colors, and Kendra’s palette was much more neutral, so she was always being

bullied to step outside of her comfort zone and into prints that she found too busy, too bright, too attention-grabbing. Lani

was in a pair of ripped, acid-washed blue jeans and a loud color-blocked sweater with bright red sneakers. She narrowed her

eyes at what she would consider to be low frequencies emanating from Kendra’s look.

Kendra dropped a hand onto her hip and posed. “Don’t play me, I know I look good.” Her coffee-colored duster over a white

cropped tee and white high-waisted jogger pants hugged her curves and made her feel clean, like fresh air after a hard rain.

She’d pulled her thick, silk-pressed tresses into a sleek ponytail, and per usual, her shades sat on top of her head like

a headband. Kendra ran her fingers through her ponytail, curling the ends around her index finger, and popped her tongue playfully.

Lani leaned forward, her eyes wide. “Mmm-hmm. And a certain someone noticed too.”

“Who? Stanley? I wouldn’t exactly describe him as a chocolate drop.

Maybe more like a hazelnut latte.” Kendra tilted her head, assessing the occupants of the room.

There was Logan and Shonda, BJ, Auntie Al, Shonda’s sister Bree, Kendra’s parents, and Stanley, who was staring at Lani like she stole somethin’.

Logan had a team of people that he’d walked back toward the kitchen, who Kendra assumed were the new restaurant staff.

BJ was carrying cartons of wine and spirits down to the basement cellar.

Kendra’s mom and Aunt Alisa were pretending to wipe down the counters, but they’d been hovering over the same spot at the bar pointing at Kendra and whispering.

The family motto should be: “Subtlety? We don’t know her. ”

Stanley’s tall and lean build was squeezed behind some shelving that he was putting together for a wall display. Kendra’s

dad, Braxton, was reading the assembly instructions aloud to Stanley, whose attention remained trained on Lani, who seemed

completely unaware. Kendra made eye contact with Shonda across the room, gesturing slightly with her chin toward Stanley,

and Shonda’s smile grew wide. She nodded slowly, steepling her fingers like a mastermind with an evil plan. Kendra winked

in response.