Page 48 of Omar

She was right. She'd been thinking about this longer than I had.

She kissed me once more at the door, then straightened up and walked out.

"Asha."

She turned to face me.

"Be careful going back."

She nodded. "Always am."

The door closed behind her. I stood in the hallway and didn't move. The apartment was quiet. The street noise came in through the window. Somewhere in Brooklyn Asha was texting Cee and walking to a corner where he'd pick her up and drive her home to Supreme.

I showered, got dressed and drove back to APEX. Devon had new data on the TK vehicle patterns. I went through it with him for two hours. I made notes, asked questions, did the work.

But the whole time I could still feel her hands on my face and hear her voice saying my name.

The whole damn time.

Chapter 18

Asha

Itexted Cee from two blocks away. Done with the client. I'm on Kingston, near the pharmacy.

He pulled up four minutes later. I got in the back seat, put my bag on my lap, checked my reflection in my phone screen. Hair redone. Face composed. Nothing out of place. A woman coming back from a home visit.

"How'd it go?" Cee asked, pulling into traffic.

"Good. She wants to rebook."

"Cool."

The drive home was fifteen minutes. I sat in the back seat looking out the window at Crown Heights passing by, the physical memory of Omar's hands on my body still running through me. My skin was still warm from it. My legs were still shaking if I let them.

I crossed my ankles and kept still.

Supreme was home when I got upstairs, dressed like he was going somewhere. Grey suit, open collar, his watch on, cologne probably but I wouldn't know because I stopped noticing years ago.

"There she is." He came across the room and kissed my forehead. "I made us a reservation at that Italian place you like. The one in Park Slope."

"Oh, that sounds nice." I smiled. "Let me shower and change real quick."

"Take your time, baby. We got an hour."

I went to the bathroom, locked the door, turned the shower on as hot as it would go. I stood under the water with my eyes closed. Omar's fingerprints were still on my hips if I pressed hard enough. I washed my body, stood there until the water started to cool. Then I got out, dried off, did my makeup, picked a dress from the closet that Supreme liked because it showed my shoulders.

My reflection stared back at me from the bathroom mirror. Same face. Same body. Same woman who'd been lying underneath Omar Baptiste forty-five minutes ago making sounds she hadn't made in fourteen years. Nobody looking at me would know. That was the whole point.

Supreme held the door for me on the way out. Cee drove us to Park Slope. The restaurant was nice, candlelit, somewhere people came to celebrate things. Supreme pulled my chair out. I sat down, opened the menu while he ordered a bottle of wine without looking at the list because he always ordered the same one.

"You look beautiful tonight," he told me across the table.

"Thank you, Premie."

"Nah, for real." He reached over and took my hand. His thumb rubbed circles on my knuckles. "You know how lucky I am? Having you here with me? Most niggas out here don't got nobody worth coming home to."

I squeezed his hand back. "You're sweet."