“What kind of music do you like?”
“I’m an old-school Gemini, so I like old-school R&B from the seventies and eighties, and nineties.”
I giggled before tossing back some liquor. “I was joking earlier when I asked, but seriously, how old are you?”
“I just turned thirty-two last month.”
“Not too much older than me. I’m twenty-seven.”
“You don’t look it.”
“How old do I look?”
He paused before answering, giving me a onceover. “I’d give you anywhere between twenty-two and twenty-three, max.”
“Well, you know what they say, black don’t crack.”
“It sho’ don’t.”
“So, do you live around here?”
He swung his head. “Nah. I was passing through when the storm hit. I’m from Georgia.”
“What brought you out here? Was it work-related?”
“Yeah, definitely more business than pleasure,” he answered.
“What do you do for work?”
“Once upon a time, I used to drive trucks.”
“Once upon a time?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, what do you do now? Like, in the present day?” I queried.
“I’m into a little of everything—consulting, business management—y’know, boring shit like that.”
“I don’t know enough about it, but it doesn’t sound all that boring to me.”
Every time I told someone what I did for a living, I could always tell they were either immediately bored to death by the way their eyes glazed over or felt sympathetic toward me for willingly taking on other people’s problems with limited resources at my disposal.
“What would you do if you had a week off from your job?” he asked, flipping the line of questioning back over to me.
“A whole week?”
“Yeah.”
“I probably wouldn’t know what to do with myself,” I responded genuinely.
“Think.”
“I—I don’t know. Sleep, probably try to take a trip somewhere, or maybe do a staycation and order takeout every night and binge-watch shit on Netflix. I’m a pretty simple girl, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”
“Really?”
