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Chapter Seven

The next day, Britain found herself sitting in the driver's seat of her vehicle, contemplating whether she should enter the restaurant. Her eyes hawked everyone who entered the high-class establishment. She was clearly underdressed. Just a few minutes before, she observed Priest as he stepped out of a porcelain white Porsche Cayanne. He suavely handed the keys to the valet before entering the restaurant. Britain ducked quickly when she noticed it was him. She didn't want him to know she didn't feel suited to enter such an elite atmosphere.

Looking down at her watch, she noticed it was just after eight in the evening, which seemed to trigger her phone with a text from Priest.

Priest: I said not to be late.

She responded to him, explaining why she wasn't seated across from him at that very moment.

Britain: I can’t go in there. I don’t feel comfortable.

The three dots danced at the bottom of her screen before his response was delivered.

Priest: I’ll have my security escort you in. Is that it?

An uneasy chuckle slipped out of Britain as she shook her head while typing up her reply.

Britain: I appreciate the kind gesture but no thanks. This isn’t my type of scene. I don’t wanna look like a klutz.

Britain believed as soon as she stepped inside Eleven Madison Park she would stick out like sore thumb. Her busy schedule at the chiropractor’s office today had prevented her from having time to go home to change into something more appropriate. Arriving at the front of the restaurant, Britain surveyed each person who went in and out of the restaurant, but she found no one as casually dressed as she was.

Her phone dinged with another text from Priest in no time.

Priest: A klutz huh? Where do you prefer? My treat.

Britain: A diner. Fast food. Food court. Hell, anywhere but here!

She enlightened him, being sure to decorate her text with a few laughing face emojis.

Moments later, Britain watched Priest exit the restaurant, reclaiming his vehicle from valet. Britain's heart almost palpitated out of her chest when there was a knock on the tinted window of her vehicle. Rolling her window down, she was faced with an older gentleman who had the stature of a linebacker. His thick beard was well maintained, and his short dreads were pulled back.

"Mr. Justice wants you to follow his vehicle," he advised.

Clueless about what to say, Britain just nodded with a light smile. She rolled her window up and started her vehicle. Just as she did, Priest pulled off in his vehicle, prompting her to follow right behind him. She had no idea where Priest was leading her off to, but her nerves were put to rest when they exited the jurisdiction of Manhattan and entered Harlem. Still though, Britain took precaution and sent Jadey the description of Priest's car and his license plate number.

Britain stopped her vehicle right behind Priest's. Scanning her surroundings, she chuckled at the sight of the low-key diner he took her to. This was more Britain's speed and more conducive to the way she was dressed right now. With a light smile, she pushed the button to kill her engine and removed her seat belt. Her door was soon being held open by Priest, who extended a hand to assist her out of the vehicle.

"This more suiting for you?" He smirked down at her as he shut the door to her car.

She pressed the button on her key fob, locking the doors. "Definitely. I couldn't go into Eleven dressed like this.” Britain shook her head while looking down at her attire. Her casual wardrobe was worn during the majority of her week since her weekdays mostly consisted of work while the weekends were signified by glamorous pieces that cost her a fortune and heels that gave her a foot of confidence.

"Chopsticks in the hair." Priest reached down, touching one of the chopsticks that was nestled within the bun that sat at the top of her head. "Aren't those for eating?" He chuckled.

Britain nodded her head with a light laugh of her own. "They're statement pieces as well," she added as he held the door open for her so they could enter the diner. Upon entrance, Britain's stomach growled at the combination of aromas steaming from the different foods being served. Her nose tingled at the striking scent of fried chicken colliding with the melted cheese from the baked macaroni that was a part of the menu.

"You've been here before?" Priest eyes sauntered down to Britain once more as she rocked side to side in anticipation of eating while they waited to be seated.

Britain shook her head. "I haven't. I just moved to Harlem from Staten Island to be closer to my dad about three months ago. I still haven't discovered all the underground spots." Taking a look around, Britain could tell the food was great. Not many people were seated and enjoying their food, and it was obvious why. The to-go line at the counter was lengthy, but that didn't affect the customer service to the in-house guests.

Priest nodded. Harlem was home to him, and he felt like he had successfully discovered every spot there was, thanks to his adventures around town with J'Ru, of course. A welcoming younger woman greeted the two before pointing them to a table at the back of the restaurant like Priest requested. Priest allowed Britain to take the seat with her back facing the door, while he sat opposite of her, scoping each action and every object in the diner.

"I'll give you two a minute to decide what you want." The waitress smiled before handing them the menus and going off to tend to other in-house customers.

"Everything sounds so good." Britain poked out her bottom lip as she drifted her eyes from top to bottom of the two-paged menu. She could hear Priest let out another one of his chuckles. Glancing up from her menu, she was shocked to realize his focus wasn't on the menu like her. Instead, his dark and observant orbs were fixated directly onto her.

"What?" She screwed her face up, not being one who liked to be stared down.

"You look like your pops," Priest told her with an amused smirk and a shrug.

Britain rolled her eyes playfully. "That's funny to you?"

He nodded his head in confirmation. "Yeah. There's no doubt that you're half Remy."

"Gee, thanks for your input, Maury Povich." She waved him off before redirecting her attention back to what she wanted to eat. "What are you getting? Maybe that'll help me cut down my options." Without opening the menu, Priest recited his order.

"Spareribs with a side of mac, baked beans, and corn bread." He rubbed his stomach with a satisfied grin.

"Ouu, that sounds good! I'll get the same, but with the peach cobbler," she settled with a smile before doing a light dance in her seat while she thought about how delicious the food would be.

The waitress returned and took their food and drink orders. She informed them about the wait before leaving the two alone. Priest, who was comfortable with not speaking a word, continued to bore his eyes onto Britain. She was infatuating to say the least. Priest didn't want to sound cliche by saying he had never come across a female like her before since he still didn't know her well, but he couldn't help it. Britain was gorgeous. Her skin was smooth and resembled the black coffee Talia served him alongside his breakfast. Her doe eyes she enhanced with her lashes gave her a sense of innocence that Priest couldn’t help but want to cater to. And don’t get him started about the way she glossed her juicy lips with her glossy yet subtle lip combo. He even found the gap between her teeth cute since it gave her a sort of distinction many women in this era were beginning to lack. The last thing he liked about her was that she didn't hold back about anything.

Priest was sure he wasn't sending any mixed signals her way. He felt a vibe and was hoping she felt it as well. From here on out, he vowed to himself to keep showing up. Even if she wanted to turn him away, she wouldn’t be able to due to him being so damn persistent.

"Staring that hard should be a crime." Britain cut her eyes at Priest before stirring the lemonade the waitress had just placed in front of her with her straw.

Priest cleared his throat before adjusting his posture in his seat so he could lean back. "I'm studying you," he bluntly informed her.

"Studying me? What's so great about me that makes you want to study me?" She raised one of her nicely arched brows.

"The fact that you have a response or question for everything. Any other woman would be speechless right now," Priest shrugged. He wasn't being arrogant since it was the truth. Although he hadn't gone on a date in years and he didn’t consider the outing he and Britain were having one, he had realized that a lot of the women he spent some time with were always too astonished that he was in their presence to say anything. Conversation was usually dry or nonexistent, which was why he mostly skipped to having sex if he was on that type of time.

"Any other woman? How many women actually know your story, since that is what I'm here for?" Her facial expression contorted into a questioning one, but a smirk still happened to linger on her lips.

Priest’s dark orbs graced her slowly. "Not even my mother knows my entire story," he admitted truthfully with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

"Wow. So, is this the type of story where you have to kill me after I hear it?" Britain hiked her brow up in curiosity, amusing Priest. He dropped his head and peered at the jewelry that laced his wrist as a hearty laugh poured out of him.

Priest neither negated nor confirmed Britain's question. He simply laughed in amusement, leaving questions to pile up in Britain's mind. "Why do you trust me?"

Priest held his hand up, indicating that Britain should yield herself. "I never said I trusted you," he clarified.

Britain rolled her eyes. "You know what I meant. Why do you find me worthy of knowing your story?" she corrected herself.

Priest shrugged once more. His jewelry made a low clinking sound as the thick plates of platinum and diamonds collided with one another from his movements. Once again, his eyes blistered into Britain's as she stared back at him. "You seem… passionate." He licked his lips.

Britain found herself enslaved under his mind-fucking smooth talk, panty drenching raspy voice, and thigh clenching edgy demeanor. He was handsome in every way. Britain couldn't deny that.

Britain cleared her throat just as the waitress returned with their orders and a beaming grin. Both Priest and Britain thanked her for their food before she went off to tend to another guest.

Britain, who was exceptionally hungry, had already picked up her silverware so she could sink her fork into the cheesy layers of the still bubbling mac and cheese. Forking up a hot serving, she took her first bite, feeling all her hunger pains melt away. She was in heaven right now.

Priest interrupted her joy by narrowing his eyes at her questioningly. "You don't pray before you eat?" His thick brows were raised as he gave Britain an odd look, almost shaming her for not thanking the man above for the great meal she was set to enjoy. Sheepishly, Britain dropped her utensils onto the napkin, too embarrassed to look at Priest after he had just called her out. Priest clasped his hands together with his eyelids closed and his head bowed. He prayed silently to himself before lifting his head, parting his hands and opening his eyes. He figured Britain had followed suit and prayed with him by the way her fingers were laced together, and she lifted her head at the same time he did.

"You'll enjoy your meal a lot more," he asserted to her as he picked up his fork, sinking it into the side of mac.

"I apologize about that. My hunger got the best of me,” Britain apologized, not wanting to be viewed in a distasteful manner by him.

Priest nodded. "You’re good. I used to do the same shit."

"So, where do you want to start?" Britain looked up from her food, the thought of his story still plaguing her mind.

"I'm gonna tell you my story, but I want you to depict it in your own words." He eyed her once he noticed her extracting her phone so she could begin recording.

Britain shook her head. "That's not how this works. It's your life, meaning it's your story to tell."

Priest shrugged his shoulders before slouching in his seat slightly. He was so tall that he mistakenly brushed his sneakers against Britain's. "You want it so bad, so you tell it." He shrugged his broad shoulders.

Britain let out a chuckle of her own. Priest wasn't sure if he'd frustrated her or if she truly found him amusing. "You're a real piece of work, y'know that?" She drilled her tongue into the inner portion of her right cheek.

A smirk pranced onto Priest's face. “Let’s get into it. I'm sure Rem wouldn't appreciate me having you out all night."