He Who Is a Friend (Sadik Book 1)

by Love Belvin

  “Look at my lil’ mommy, yo.” Tasche held a picture of an infant to me on her phone.

  “Awwwww! She’s cute. Who’s that?”

  “My little Mia Grace!” A high-pitched girly voice wasn’t a common act of Tasche.

  Her preferred persona was coarse.

  My face tightened. “Who’s baby is that?”

  “My girl, Lex-dawg. You don’t remember her from that church service in March?” She went back to cooing over the picture.

  “Oh! Lex and the eclectic, palm-reading husband.” I balled my mouth. “She was cool, though. How is she?”

  I wanted to ask how could she be married to such a strange man—no matter how good looking he was.

  “Girl,” she sang. “Hookin’ off on bitches in the fuckin’ prayer line!” Tasche dropped her face toward the table so hard and fast, I thought she’d hit it.

  “What in the world is she fighting in church for, Tasche?”

  “Them bitches that be wanting her man. She starting to go with him more when he preaches all over the damn world. He was at this church in Cali, and some bitch was trying to act like she had the Holy Ghost—you know, the way them church people be falling the fuck out, and shit. Well, Lex said it was mad people at the front of the church, everybody wanted Ezra to pray for them, and shit. Then ol’ girl started coming at Ezra like she was ready to bumrush him, and shit. Lex saw that shit coming from a mile away and moved from behind Ezra as ol’ girl was coming in front of him. Lex circled in front of him quick enough to hook that bitch by the neck and knock her over. The bitch snapped out that fakin’ shit and swung on Lex.” Tasche laughed. “It was over after that. Lex went Harlem Pride on that ass, and had to be pulled off ol’ girl.”

  “Oh, my God! What did her husband do? Say?” I couldn’t imagine him going for that.

  Tasche shrugged, rubbing her nose as she yawned. “Lex said he was hot for a minute about it, even though the church kept apologizing to him and Lex. They said they had problems with them bitches in there doing shit like that and was embarrassed they showed out when they guests was there.”

  I shook my head. I thought church people were better than that, especially in church.

  “There you are, Bilan.” Georgie from the kitchen walked over to our booth, handing me my phone. “It was going off back there.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured, curious as to who was reaching out to me at this hour. “Oh, my God!” I chirped.

  “The fuck wrong with you?” Tasche asked.

  I scrolled down my text thread.

  Sadik: Hey. I’m finally back in town. I’m coming to pick up my jacket. I should be at your place in five minutes.

  That was more than forty-five minutes ago…

  Sadik: I’m outside.

  “Oh, this nigga finally hit me back,” Tasche graveled across from me, but I barely followed, so wrapped in these text messages.

  Sadik: I’m gonna stop by the diner just in case you’re working. I’ll come out back.

  That was sent twenty minutes earlier. My eyes swung round and round in my sockets, doing the math.

  I leaped on the leather bench. “I need to go check on something!” My tone was animated as I clambered out of the booth.

  “A’ight,” Tasche acknowledged, frantically tapping into her phone. “I may bounce myself in a minute. This nigga talking right!” She flashed her tongue.

  I almost missed it, tripping over my feet to get to the counter in the front of the restaurant. When there, I paid a deep gaze out the window in the front, but saw no ruby black Mercedes-Maybach. With added speed, I pushed inside the kitchen and zipped past a couple dozen bodies for the back door. My pulse banged in my neck and limbs trembled from overwhelming excitement at the door jamb when I recognized the sleek-body sedan. Rory’s short frame squatted on the hood, lighting a cigarette. Her buggy eyes low as the flame curled inches from her face.

  The back door opened, and his russet frame stood from the car, holding a phone to his ear, honeyed eyes intensely on me. He moved to close the door and made a few steps in my direction. I could feel blood rush through my ears as I prodded down the stairs and headed straight for him. It was him. Finally, I was seeing him again, now realizing how much of a privilege it was. On the way, an abrupt thought hit. Just before our toes met, Sadik lowered the phone, his regard no less intense on me.

  “I don’t have the jacket with me,” spilled from my lips pathetically.

  And God, did he smell amazing. Scented, groomed, with a broadness to him I’d forgotten in three weeks. I throbbed below.

  His cheeks spread and eyes narrowed. “I didn’t think you’d carry it to work every day.”

  “I’ve slept in it, so bringing it in wouldn’t be much of a stretch.”

  His forehead wrinkled while his beam remained. Sadik now looked confused.

  I closed my eyes while shaking my head. “I’m kidding. But if you realized I wouldn’t have it at work, why did you come?”

  His hands pushed into his track suit pants as his chin dipped. “I just got back in town and wanted to see you.”

  “At three in the morning?”

  He nodded. “A couple of hours ago, but yeah.”

  “Haven’t seen you in weeks.” I hated those words of weakness the moment they left my tongue.

  “I’ve been out of town since the night of the Ameerah show.”

  My chin dropped this time. “Really?”

  Rubbing the orange stubble on his jaw, he nodded. “Took a redeye out to China and spent a little over a week there in Qingdao, meeting with a client and courted a potential one. Then I flew to Central America, where I met my father and his attorney, who’s looking to acquire property.”

  “Property in Central America?”

  He shrugged, looking too tempting. “Property. We started in Central America…was there for a few days before jetting over to The Caribbean to look there, too.”

  “Wait.” My forehead stretched, lips pouted, and eyes rolled a three hundred-sixty degree circle in their sockets. “Is this like some kind of litmus test to see if I can handle your family’s wealth or something?”

  He exhaled. “Kind of.”

  “I thought you got a few positives on your STD report and changed your mind,” I quipped.

  As his eyes perused my face, Sadik shook his head. “Got the email a couple of weeks ago, All negative here.”

  I nodded, remembering mine as well. This turned awkward fast.

  “Listen, Sadik…” My eyes rolled out into the distance, brain stumped for words. “I’m sorry about—”

  “We’re not doing that apology shit today. We can save them for the future.” He snorted. Future? He shifted his weight forward on his toes, telling of his unease. “I want to spend more time getting to know you, Bilan.”

  “Really?” I was ghosted.

  He nodded, struggling with something. “I don’t know where it’ll go or how far, but let’s see.”

  “Then why the seriousness?”

  “Because I’m not an easy man to have ‘relationship’ expectations with. I own three damn companies—and not all in the same industry. My damn schedule is impossible. There aren’t enough hours in the day to satisfy it. I have a business with international legs. My family commands so much of my attention—even when it stresses me out. But they’re my identity and nonnegotiable when it comes down to dividing my time. And then there’s me.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “I’m demanding, Bilan. There may be times I require you to be up and lively at four in the morning when you’re not working.” He lifted his hand to my face, his thumb drawing a feather caress from the outer corner of my eye to my cheek. “In eyeliner and lip gloss for me to fuck up.” I swallowed hard before my jaw dropped. “Or just to rub my back until I fall asleep.”

  “I can be a night owl,” I murmured.

  “Or you’ll meet me at the airport just to drive me to a meeting because I’ll be there all night, then on a redeye, out of the
country for a week or two.”

  A pang lanced my belly.

  “Are you trying to tell me to run? Do you want me to be turned off?”

  He shook his head, a scowl playing at his face. “I want your expectations to be reasonable. I don’t want to be the bad guy on the other side of this.”

  “On the other side of being your friend?”

  A beautiful smile spread across his face. Sadik used his thumb to scratch the patch beneath his bottom lip as he averted his dangerous gaze.

  “Yeah.” I nodded haughtily. “I’ve researched your name. Sadik means he who is a friend in Swahili. Who knew you’d use the meaning to get girls?”

  “Touché.” He snorted, appearing impressed by my obsessive snooping. “But I told you I don’t do this. I think you should consider yourself lucky.”

  What?

  “Lucky! Now, I know you really don’t want anything real with—”

  My ‘oh, no you didn’t’ read of his arrogance was snatched from my tongue by Sadik’s soft lips. It was slung around by his aggressive tongue. It was destroyed by his big hands holding my face. The memory of his taste returned. The ghost of his touch became fresh again as my body melted into him. I felt myself shifting on my feet, but was too lost in the desperation of his taste to know for sure. Sadik crushed me with his weight, pushing the swelling of his erection into my belly. My legs wobbled, but thankfully I didn’t succumb to gravity. We enjoyed each other more than we thought to breathe. I got lost in space as our mouths moved in sync and we created a pact of possibility.

  I couldn’t open my eyes when he pulled his mouth away. His thick impression still on my belly.

  “Beelon!” I could hardly make out.

  “I think you’re being called.” His silk alto was clearer.

  “Who?” I whispered, still lost in space.

  “Yo, they calling you,” a coarse, boyish voice announced.

  Rory…

  That’s when I finally opened my eyes and saw I was pushed against his car, and Sadik’s attention was to the back of the restaurant. Maria waved her arm to get my attention.

  “Beelon!”

  “Shoot!” I leaped on my feet, causing Sadik to relieve me of his lush weight. “My stuff is ready. If I don’t put my pies in right away, I won’t get out of here until day break.”

  I pivoted just slightly when it dawned on me. “Can I call you?”

  “I hope so.” Sadik swiped his lips with his thumb. “I have a crazy few weeks ahead, but we’ll be in touch.”

  I walked backward, oddly hating to be leaving him so soon. I mean… Did he really just show up at my job to say he wanted to give it another try? This was unreal. I didn’t even know the man and suddenly, I felt like I was walking on clouds of joy. I only turned back when I made it to the door. Rory was inside the car, starting the engine. Sadik was still in the same place I left him, his honeyed irises on me with that intense gaze.

  ∞12∞

  “Hey!” I shouted. “Chill. I’m coming!”

  My hands worked to open the plastic Michelle’s Diner bag where grilled chicken wafted from the Styrofoam container. Dog was growing…too much. He was salivating and all. But it was his growling that scared me. It had been months and he still frightened me. He’d been growing every day, too. Before his leaps landed him on my leg. When he almost knocked me over while I pulled out the knot, my heart dropped to the floor.

  I stopped and turned to him, forcing Dog back on all four. “I’m going to feed you, you know this. You need to calm your butt down, boy!”

  He barked, causing the floor to vibrate beneath us.

  “Stop!” I issued a leveling glare until he took a few steps back, unusually acquiescing.

  It was late—close to three in the morning—and I was bone tired. Instead of life slowing now that I was a week away from graduation, it seemed as though my responsibilities on campus had doubled. Jason said it was because they were trying to squeeze all the cheap labor out of me while they could. By the time I made it to the diner tonight, I saw my trainees starting my recipes. When I asked what they were doing, Marie explained Nicky told them to do it before he left. That was strange. I made a note to ask him about it on my next shift.

  I dumped wasted pieces of chicken into a bowl I had for Dog in the house. “Here.” I placed it on the floor near a wall. “Wait!” He almost knocked me over trying to get to the bowl.

  I backed away, seething. Why did I have a dog? My mother would freak out. And what would I do with him once Abshir came home? I shook my head, walking over to the sink to wash my hands. Before I was done rinsing, my phone vibrated loudly in my bag.

  “Shoot!”

  I tried rubbing them together faster to hurry the process. It was a waste of time. By the time I finished drying my hands and dug through my bag for it, it stopped.

  Sadik…

  My hands moved like they were on steroids to hit him back.

  “Hey,” his velvety alto chimed.

  “Hey…” I breathed, winded by it all.

  “I catch you at a bad time?”

  “No!” was delivered too forcefully. “Not at all. Perfect, actually.” I rolled my eyes as I pulled out a chair and lowered myself to sit.

  I hadn’t seen Sadik since that popup visit at the diner. We’d been in touch almost every day since, texting or calling at night, and he even sent a delivery to my campus. He’d been traveling since then, even FaceTime’ing me from San Francisco a few nights ago. So far, he didn’t lie about his excessive traveling.

  “Thanks for the flowers.” I smiled too hard.

  “Again, you’re welcome.” I texted it to him from class when I had to rush out of the office after signing for them. “You never said how the chocolates were.”

  “Are you kidding? They were Guilty Pleasure. Excellent! Unlike the bouquet, they never made it to my house. I devoured them in class and work that day.”

  “So, sugar.”

  “What about it?”

  “That’s all you eat.”

  “Not really.”

  “That’s all I’ve ever seen you enjoy while with me. Interesting.”

  I rolled my eyes, not wanting to go there. “Where are you?” I quickly amended, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Toronto.”

  “Canada.” I mused out loud.

  “Yeah. Just leaving my sister’s art exhibit.”

  “Oh, nice! She’s an artist?”

  “This month, yeah.” I laughed. “Acrylic painting. My family flew up here to support her on her latest venture.” His tone deflated, playfully annoyed by the short attention span of his baby sister.

  “Well, you know I feel family support is everything. I think it’s cool you all backed her.” I scratched the back of my neck, combing down my tapered hair. “I hope I’m not keeping you from them.”

  Sadik made it clear how close a unit his family was. Suddenly, I felt like an interloper.

  “Not at all. I…uh…I actually stepped away from them, not wanting to wait till tomorrow to reach you.”

  “Everything okay?”

  There was a pause. “Nah,” he finally spoke. “I’ve been horrible at this shit.”

  “What?”

  “You?”

  My pulse began to race.

  “What do you mean?”

  “As soon as I told you I wanted to spend more time together, I skipped town twice. I miss you.” There was a slight growl in his delivery, taking my mind to that night a month ago, on the jet. This time, I was speechless. “Dinner.”

  “When?” I asked too quickly.

  Too desperate.

  “Thursday.”

  I blinked. “This Thursday?”

  “That’ll be the one. We need to talk about how we can sync our schedules. The semester is ending for you and I have no idea what your post-graduation plans are.” That makes two of us. “I need inspiration to take some time off. Maybe you can help me with that.”

  I chuckled shyly, no
t knowing how to respond.

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll text you the reservation tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” I repeated.

  “My people are passing me, heading to the limo. I’ll hit you later.”

  “Ok—” My eyes squeezed closed. “Goodnight, Sadik.”

  I took a deep breath, eyes wandering subconsciously until they landed on the beautiful bouquet of exotic flowers on my kitchen table.

  Dog barked, and I rolled my eyes.

  “You burp like a beast, and I lose my good sense and forget to ask him about his soon born baby.”

  “Damn.” My brows shot into the air as I held the phone to my ear with one hand and swiped through reports on my iPad with the other. “And how many they got off on Low?”

  “I hear only one, but Low caught it on the body somewhere.”

  “Damn.” I breathed again, eyes scanning the restaurant, awaiting my guest. “And Sub lost one.”

  “Yeah. Just Nintendo,” Iban confirmed.

  Damn…

  Hearing it from my brother gave it a new reality. We had to speak like this over the phone, always moving as though our lines were tapped. Names changed, but the players didn’t. Iban called while I’d been waiting in DiFillippo’s for Bilan to show, telling me Damien and his peoples pulled up on Rizzo’s crew at a pub they were known to hang out at in Elizabeth, and rang out shots. Low was Damien, because he was on the low with his sexuality, though we had proof of it being fluid. Sub was Rizzo because we referred to sandwiches as submarines, as in Italian subs. And Nintendo was Luigi, one of Salvatore Rizzo’s top men, because Iban and I used to be true Super Mario Bros. fans as kids.

  “That’s fucked up.”

  “Yeah, well,” Iban sucked in a loud breath before letting it out. “I’m good. Fuck both them niggas. They can swallow the drain of my fucking toilet. Off each other in the same shootout for all I give a shit.”

  My scalp began to prickle, ripping my attention from my report and the telephone conversation. I glimpsed up and saw her strutting my way in heels. It wasn’t for a few seconds, when she was closer, that I could see Bilan rocked booties just inches above her ankles. Her damn legs were out in long, fitted denim cutoff shorts, stopping just at her kneecaps. They were high-waist, accentuating her wide hips and narrow midsection. She covered it with a green sweater duster while a yellow crossover purse lay at her hip.