“So, you want a yes-girl?”
“No, I want a wife who listens to me. You think you can handle that, or no?”
Bria gulped back the words she desperately wanted to spew. If she had the right, she would’ve told him that she listened to no one. She was a woman who had earned the stripes to live life on her own accord. Being ruled by a man just because he was her husband was something that almost made her gag.Bria wasn’t built for it but would suppress her rant for the sake of her father.
“Sure,” she muttered between clenched teeth.
Lo leaned forward, swarming her with the aquatic notes of his cologne.
“You wanna hear the rules?”
Bria sat back in her seat, taken aback by his gall. “So, I have to listen to you and follow rules? Am I in elementary school?”
“No, you in my school. Consider me your principal now.”
Bria’s lips parted, ready to retort but his declaration had her speechless. Who the hell was this man? Why was he so comfortable speaking to her in this dominant manner? Most of all, why hadn’t she gotten up from the table and stormed off?
“Now my rules are simple,” he began. “Always answer when I call and respond to my text messages within five minutes. Don’t let no other man touch you and let me know where you are at all times.”
Bria’s mouth gaped, not believing he had just given her a list of rules to be hiswife.
“Yeah, this isn’t going to work for me,” she said more to herself.
“Why not?” he had the nerve to ask.
“Because I’m not a kid. I don't need to call and check in with you or respond to your text messages within thirty seconds.”
“Five minutes,” he corrected her.
“It doesn’t matter. That’s a lot and I’m too independent to follow your rules.”
“Independent but living at home with your parents? Yeah, a’ight.” He chuckled.
Bria didn’t appreciate what he thought was a dig toward her. “Yes, I live at home because my parents are ol’ school. Theybelieve I should be at home until they give me to my husband. I’m still a grown woman who does what I want and willcontinueto do such.”
Lo smiled, showing off his gold bottom grill. She loathed how this allurement for him had formed without her consent.
“I think we will have a lot of fun together, Bria.”
“Not with your attitude, we won’t.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.” He reclined with his intense eye contact focused on her. “You dance?”
She nodded.
“Are you a midnight ballerina or a real dancer?”
Bria stared at him until she burst into a fit of laughter. There was a semblance of a smile on his lips. It wasn’t a full one but a small glimpse of a beam.
“It took me a minute to get what you were saying. I never heard of a midnight ballerina before.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” he reminded her.
“Oh, well, no I’m not a stripper. I’m a real ballet dancer.”
Stroking his beard, he tipped his head as if he was adding her words to his mental storage bin.
“Let me see your phone.”
