Page 9 of The Don’s Virgin Obsession

“Name one.”

She smiled and looked down at her drink. “You interview everybody this hard?”

“Remember, I’m taking applications.”

She took another sip and bought herself time. “I just mean, you know, I work around a lot of people. Different clients.”

“That ain’t what I asked.”

Her smile stayed in place, but her eyes shifted. “You’re intense.”

“You’re vague.”

“I consult for beauty brands, nightlife brands. Stuff like that.”

“What does consulting mean?”

“It means I help them shape their image.”

“How?”

That was where she started fumbling for real.

“Well, you know, strategy. Marketing. Connections.”

“Whose?”

She sat back. “Why do it matter?”

“It doesn’t,” I said. “I was just seeing if you knew what you did, and you don’t.”

That should have offended her. Instead, it made her grin, because some women mistook precision for flirtation.

Across the room, Sade had picked up her menu again, but she wasn’t reading it. Her attention drifted every now and then, not toward me exactly, but enough.

Enough to know she had noticed me and did not care to show it.

That part was familiar too.

Seven years earlier, she had been drunker than I had ever seen her, sitting inside my homeboy’s birthday section in a downtown club, laughing with her friends. It was so packed, women were overlapping men, sitting on laps, and she had her thick ass thigh pressed against me. I had moved in close enough to smell the mint on her breath and tapped her on the shoulder, causing her to glare at me.

I whispered to her. Not disrespectful. Just low. Just enough to make her blink and laugh in my face like I knew she would do.

“I heard you are the girl who is still holding on to her v-card. I’ll marry you.”

She laughed. “Stop it. I don’t even know you.”

“Nah, you stop it. I’ll pay millions for it right now.”

“I’m not a hooker,” she had said, smiling like I was stupid. “And I’m not pressed for money.”

Then she got up with her friends when one of them said, “Let’s go dance,” before I could answer.

She didn’t remember that night.

I knew she didn’t.

But I did.