“You can be combative for absolutely no reason,” I tell her with a smile.
“Okay, fine. Here they are again. I don’t date men with kids. I don’t date high handed men, and I don’t date celebrities. That thing that you do to get your way, to sweet talk your way into a school and into my classroom, I don’t find that endearing at all.”
“So, it’s not because you’re not attracted to me. I knew it.” I wink at her, and she groans in frustration. “I am very attracted to you, too, but I feel like you’re holding back on me. Let’s hear it because I want to get to the stuff you like about me.”
“Your ego is not the least bit attractive, and neither is your dismissive attitude.”
“That’s another thing we have in common.Yourdismissive attitude is quite off putting too. And when you curse. I don’t like that at all.” Her eyes widen at my last admission. You’d think I just told her that I eat little children for breakfast.
“The way I talk fucking offends you?” I cringe. She stands and grabs her purse. “I’m going to get my bag out of your car, and then I’m going to take a cab home. This has been a huge fucking disappointment. And men who tell women how to talk? That’s an absolute fuck no.” I stand and approach her before she can take a step and hold both of her hands in mine. I look down at her, and she meets my eyes.
“Dante went to run a few errands. He won’t be back for another hour.”
“I need my bag. I have papers to grade tonight,” she insists.
I pull out her chair and point for her to sit. “Come on. Sit. We’re making good progress. I can learn to live with your cursin’. Just don’t do it when you meet Mama, and drinkin’ is a no-no too when she’s around.”
She calls Tilly over and orders a third drink.
“I won’t be meeting Mama. You’re not interested in me. You just refuse to understand why I’m not falling at your feet. You like to be worshipped, and I worship no man.”
“Nope, that’s not it. I met this pretty, smart woman, and I’m fascinated. I have the feeling you’re holdin’ back on me. Are you not interested in me because one of us isn’t black?” I arch an eyebrow at her.
She starts to cough, and I reach over to pat her back. “That’s not funny. And yes, I prefer to date black men. What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s limiting, not to mention unfair.”
“Unfair? To whom?”
“To me, of course. Why would I care about anyone else? I’m a very jealous man, Victoria. I’m going to let you know that now.”
“You are absolutely everything I loathe in a man. Controlling. Jealous. Preachy. Sanctimonious and staking claim to something that doesn’t belong to you.”
“I can work on those things. You want to know what else I am? Loyal.”
“If I want loyalty, I’ll get a dog.”
I let out a loud belly laugh. It’s so loud, the people from a few tables over look at me. “You’re funny. I like that in a woman.”
“Listen,” she says as if she’s searching for control. “It would never work. I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”
TEN
She sits backand resumes eating. I study her from across the table as she dips a piece of shrimp in a creamy cloud of mashed potatoes. I keep a strict diet during the season and my sea bass is good, but I’d give anything to indulge in potatoes. She wipes the side of her mouth and takes another big bite. I love a woman who’s not afraid to eat. The last person I dated barely ate, and I don’t think I ever saw her without being fully made up and dressed. Vickie isn’t wearing any now, and she hasn’t tried to fix her hair once since I barged into her classroom. She’s without a doubt the most beautiful woman on earth.
She was gorgeous the night I first saw her and the day I spent at her family’s home. She’s just as beautiful now. Maybe more so when she’s completely unguarded. She figures she’s already told me no, and I’ll go away quietly, but there’s something about her. Something that calls to me. Something beyond how she looks and how she feels in my arms.
“Well, I’m not going to enter into some scandalous affair with you, if that’s what you’re thinkin’.” She looks up, surprised and a little confused by my words. “This,” I say, gesturing at my body. “You can’t just have this and walk away.”
“What on earth are you talking about? Are you going to eat that?” She sticks her fork in my sea bass and takes a small piece. “Oh, that’s good. Do you want some of mine?” She points at her shrimp, and I can’t help myself. I take one, drag it through the mashed potatoes and stick it in my mouth. It’s buttery and garlicky, just the way I like it.
“I bet you taste better.” She finishes her third cocktail, and I brace myself for a fight. If she asks for a fourth drink, I’m going to object; accusations of me being controlling be damned.
“Of course, I taste better, though you’ll never, ever know.” I can see a little color in her cheeks. Those three drinks have definitely hit her bloodstream.
“I promise you, I will. Then the three of us will go out for breakfast the next morning.”
“Three of us? You’re into the group thing? I figured you for a square. No cussin’. No drinkin’. Borin’.” She does a terrible southern accent. Tilly approaches and puts a pizza we didn’t order on the table. In fact, pizza is not on the menu at all.
