Page 7 of Vaughn & Cori (D-Ville Projects #7)
Cori
“He what?”
The look on Sheena’s face as she peeks her head out of the door of my closet is as expected. She’s never been one for foolishness or frugality when it comes to a man getting her attention, and as my friend, she expects me to live by the same set of rules.
“He took me to The Diner on the south side, the Parade of Homes Tour, then…”
“Nope. Stop right there.” She shakes her head, not even letting me tell her how the rest of the date played out. “You lost me at The Diner.”
“The Diner was nice,” I say, thinking back on my original reaction to the restaurant while judging Sheena for hers.
“I’m sure it was, compared to the Parade of Homes Tour.
You’re probably giving him credit for feeding you too, but I ain’t.
This is some low-budget side piece shit that them podcast bros be raving about.
At least tell me the dick was first class.
” I laugh while she’s still in her spot, looking at me with a straight face, waiting for my answer.
When I don’t give her one, her eyes go wide in disbelief.
“You can’t be serious right now. Was the dick trash too? ”
Her assumption makes me laugh even harder, so hard all I can do is shake my head in response, leaving her even more frustrated and confused as she leans closer to me like she’ll find the answers by proximity.
“So you’re saying… it… was… good?” she asks, dragging out every word, waiting for me to confirm or deny.
“I’m not saying a thing. You’re already clowning the man for having a thoughtful and original idea. I’m not giving you any more ammunition to keep going.”
I take the maxi dress out of her hands while she’s busy dissecting my words, trying to decide if the dick was in fact trash. When she realizes I took the dress, she follows me with her eyes as I put it back in the closet, obviously annoyed but not saying a word until I’m back in the room.
“He must’ve done something right for you to be defending him this hard,” she says, still searching for an answer to her question.
“I wouldn’t say all that, but I’m just not gonna let you slander the man when I honestly had a nice time.”
“There goes that word again. I honestly can’t remember the last time I had a good dick down that would be considered nice,” she says as she scrunches her face in disgust at my word choice.
“Will you stop? We only had one date. There was no dick down.”
I know I said I wasn’t gonna say anything, but the words are out of my mouth before I realize it, and Sheena freezes then dramatically studies me like she’s seeing something for the first time before laughing to herself.
“So you really like this man?” she asks, confused and unconvinced by the thought, and I give her an honest answer.
“Yes.”
My response comes without hesitation, so naturally I can feel a smile form on my face that’s so infectious it has Sheena genuinely smiling too.
“It must’ve been on some intrinsic shit because outside of that face and body I can’t think of one thing you’ve mentioned that should have you smiling like that,” she says, still trying to figure things out just like I am.
When I think about our date from start to finish, I can’t pinpoint any one thing that stood out, but as a whole it was close to perfect.
From the conversation and food at The Diner to the home tour that left me wanting more when I put my foot in my mouth.
The only thing I don’t like about the whole thing is the thought of having to wait before we do it again.
Like last time, he hasn’t given me any indication of what we’ll be doing or how I should dress, no matter how many times I ask.
What he has done is send me random pictures daily that usually start off a chain of text messages between us that often dive deeper than just surface shit.
I don’t know what expression is on my face, but when I see Sheena standing by the door, she’s looking at me intently, nodding.
“Yeah, I don’t know what’s in the water at that diner, but I may need to go get me some. Then maybe I can find a man to make me smile like that. One with a little extra coin, of course,” she adds.
Even though her comment is harmless, I still find myself feeling some type of way.
“It doesn’t always have to be about money, Sheena,” I say defensively.
“I’m not saying that it does… for you. But as for me and my house, that box got to be checked, sis.”
Instead of having another moral debate with her, I decide to go back to picking through my closet for the perfect fit for my next date, settling on a pair of jeans, a green tank top, and an off the shoulder knit top to wear in place of the maxi dress Sheena originally picked out.
“What do you think about this?”
I lay each piece on the bed, then pick out a few accessories to set it off, waiting for Sheena to put her two cents in.
“I mean, if you’re going to end up doing some more random shit, it’s alright, I guess. But I’d nix the green top. I thought you liked this man,” she says, confusing me.
“You’re the one who always says how good green looks on me, so why not this?”
“Because of the obvious. It may look good on you, but bad in the DP,” she says and I realize I don’t even know what this man’s gang affiliation is.
Is Vaughn a member of DP? It hasn’t really come up outside of the cryptic answers he gave me about what he does for a living.
I just assumed it’d be obvious if he was.
But the more I think about it, the more ridiculous it sounds.
Especially in my line of work, where I can think of at least two confirmed DP members Vaughn’s age who are just as low key.
Then I think of the picture I took at Highland Park that shows the clear divide between Douglasville residents and their rivals from Bedford Homes.
So, instead of dwelling on the unknown, I switch out my green top for a purple one and keep it moving.
“Wait… you’re not having any second thoughts or moral dilemmas from the fact that you may be dating a lowkey boss who took you to a diner?
” Sheena asks with fake outrage while still bringing up The Diner.
She still has a smile on her face while she watches me find all new accessories for the purple top then nods. “Yeah, you definitely like this one.”