Page 46 of The Need to Know

Cesar was watching, probably thinking I was talking to Nastasia.

“I’m about to lock in with Paisley for this Ladies’ Night event. That’s gon’ be a bag,” I said as I put my phone away.

Cesar reached out and slapped his palm against mine. “No doubt about it, Paisley owns these airwaves from here to Atlanta. Shit, probably beyond.”

“And it’s about time she graces BLVCKJVCK with her hosting,” I agreed. “I figure she can come through for us and do her thing, and we can cross-promote her shop, tell all the ladies in the building where to get some gear. Win-win for everybody.”

Cease bobbed his head, but then he glanced at my pocket where my phone lay. “And Nastasia?”

One more glance around Phat Fitness and I still didn’t see her in sight. I wasn’t about to call or text her. It was Thursday, club night, business hours. Come Friday, I’d be confirming a solid deal to gain us another successful event. Pops was about to see what I could do for the club, and for the time being, that was my focus.

Getting back to Cesar, I shrugged. “Guess we’ll know when we know.”

I was out on the floor, dressing a mannequin with new inventory, trying and wishing for a distraction. It was no use, though, my mind was hung up on Ezekiel and our picnic. He hadn’t called, or texted me since dropping me off, but that was okay. I needed to think.

After he’d kissed my forehead and swore off anything physical until we knew what we wanted, we’d settled down and began packing up the food to go. We worked in silence as the music continued to play, and it wasn’t awkward, but comfortable. Calm. Familiar in a way. Once or twice, he snuck a look at me and smiled and I did the same.

Ezekiel didn’t do commitment or relationships, but he was, above all, a gentleman.

Points for that, I guess.

Quickly, I snapped out of my daydream, coming to just in time to watch an older woman with a shaved head walk up to one of our floor-length mirrors and model her outfit from different angles. She’d picked out a blush-colored jumpsuit with a plunging neckline. Her body was goals and her girls were sitting. Her tall height only served to complement the elegant evening wear.

“Oh wow, your body is to die for,” I had to let her know.

She snuck me a clever smile. Her glasses did nothing but illuminate the spark in her eyes.

“It better be,” she remarked. “I don’t spend five days a week in the gym for nothing.”

“I know that’s right,” I said.

The woman turned to me, seeking approval. “I’m going to brunch with my girlfriends, too much?”

My face morphed into distaste. “Too little. What that outfit needs is mile-high stilettos and at least a bangle or two on your wrists, with matching earrings. We love a statement.”

“That we do.” She winked at me. “Be right back to purchase.”

I abandoned my mannequin and scanned the sales floor, finding other shoppers here and there, and Paisley at the register checking out a line. Deciding my latest modeling project could wait, I went and opened up our second register to help out.

The day breezed by with the steady flow of business we had. It was almost the weekend and a lot of women were gearing up to go out and kick it, be it here in Belmont, or out in Atlanta. Me, I was narrowing down movies to watch for Nasty Noir. My subscribers were loving my review of The Godfather trilogy, some even jokingly calling me out on admiring the third and “choosing” to love Part I over Part II.

“Okay, so run this back for me.” Paisley was being nosey as we hit a dry spell that Thursday afternoon after our morning rush. “He takes you to Stokely Park for a handmade picnic, and then nothing happened?”

“Nope,” I blew out as I finished with my mannequin. It was summer, so I styled her in a thin spaghetti-stringed dress, a gold ankle bracelet, and some cute sandals. Soft and delicate never went out of style. “We’re still debating on being friends, or going there for one night.”

Paisley’s silence had me turning and catching her at the back counter eyeing me like I’d presented her with a complicated calculus equation. “Girl.” She eyed her cell phone in her hands and shook her head. “He DM’d me earlier during the rush. We’re having brunch tomorrow morning to finalize this Ladies’ Night thing. I love that he was serious.”

While I didn’t really know Ezekiel, something told me serious was his MO. He was almost thirty, and while some men in their twenties were intent to never grow up, I was glad Ezekiel was far from that stage in his life.

“Nice. Paisley strikes another deal,” I said.

“Speaking of,” she began as she came around the counter and sauntered over to me. “I asked around about your Don Juan.”

A man of Ezekiel’s stature, naturally he did have a reputation. “And?”

We both settled on to the gray suede swivel chairs on the right side of Shéc. There was only so long before business picked back up and we would get our asses kicked. A rest was needed.

“The report is in.” She made a face, waggling her brows as if she had major tea. Paisley didn’t gossip much, so this I had to hear.