"Let me take you out."
I'm hallucinating.
No, I'm running mad.
"What?" I phase out of my thoughts.
"Let me... take you out," his jade eyes dilate as his face got closer to mine.
"Not happening," I blurt out.
Wait no, no, no. That's not what I want, or atleast it's not what I think I want. What would my mother think of me?!
Like you give a damn what she thinks. My subconscious mind states.
Well at this point I do.
There is a short pause and I notice him twitch, clench his jaw before proceeding to speak.
"Very well then. I'll inform my team on this proposal and we can schedule a date to meet along with Logan Square and discuss this in depth," his tone is now professional, firm and...and I'm filled with a hint of guilt.
Christian signs the forms, stands and gives an outstretched hand to me. I oblige and shake it, regret growing in my chest.
"It was great doing business with you, Ms Yané," his lips form a hard line.
"Likewise," I look away, and turn back to see him close the door behind him.
***
"Cheers to Friday, ladies!" Kenya toasts and we all join in with our cocktail glasses.
So here I am, with my girls at a jazz club for one reason and one reason only, to unwind. Unwind from all the work load, from my mother's constant calls about James, from everything.
Christian too.
"Who owns this place?" Hannah praises. The room is filled with portraits of iconic African musicians performing at concerts, and the stage has a background of traditional patterned curtains with exotic lanterns hanging from the ceiling.
"Danny," I answer.
"Dan Kubeka?!" Hannah's mouth swung open.
"Yes, after his 'divorce'," I air quote," he ventured into cocktail restaurants, sports bars, and this jazz club opened recently,"
"How did you know?" Kenya nudges my arm.
"I develop enterprises, honey," I pat myself on the shoulder.
"Here I was trying to make this a surprise for both of you," Kenya pouts at me before taking a sip of her drink.
We bask in the jazz music that played endlessly, one songster and songstress after the other.
This was the perfect night show for me. For once I should let my mind wander off, relax and stop thinking about the petty issues that bother my not so perfect life.
"It's getting late," I yawn and grab my empty glass. "Can't we get a refill?"
"Let's go to the real club!" Hannah cheers.
"I'm in!" Kenya raises her hand faster than my mouth could utter no.
"Oh come on, Imani," Hannah pleads.
"But I said I'm tired," I roll my eyes.
"How will you get home?" Kenya asks, and gives Hannah an 'uh-huh' nod.
"Yes, Imani. How will you get home?"
After a second of thought, I knew I was busted.
-
"Remind me again why you called me when you made it clea-"
"I'm getting a headache from hearing you talk," I cut in nonchalantly, massaging my temples as I lean on the armrest of the car.
YOU ARE READING
Honeyblonde Curls
Romance"Well, I can understand why they'd be like that," he begins, "Parents are like that; the whole idea of having their child's life planned out so they aren't embarrassed . But if they want to see you then sure, hear them out. I know you would want to...
