by Love Belvin
Ang’s face hardened and her eyes narrowed. “A whore? Is that what you think I am? Well, I got news for you, Zoey: Not everyone aspires to be a goody two-shoes like you. Funny. I thought that was the one thing that bonded us. I see I was wrong.”
My mouth collapsed.
“I’ll meet you at the car.” Angela turned to leave the restaurant.
~~~~~~~~~~
Angela’s pregnant!
Needless to say, I didn’t attend my last assigned day of Working Toward the Stars. Angela sent me a text saying she wouldn’t be picking me up because she wasn’t going back. If she wasn’t returning, there was no need for me to because I didn’t want to do the stupid program in the first place. I realized I didn’t inform Stenton of this decision until Friday, the last morning of the program.
First thing that morning, around 9:00 a.m., I received a text from Stenton asking of my whereabouts. I explained with few words that I wouldn’t be making it because of the blowup with Angela and Alton. In so many words, he said he understood. Then a few hours later, he texted again, asking to meet at the diner for lunch. He mentioned having to catch a red eye and leaving town for a few days. I told him I had a few things to do before church that evening and the best I could do was meet him for dessert later that night. I didn’t think that would work for him. He did say he was flying out that night. To my surprise, he agreed to it.
Around 9:30 that night, I sauntered into the diner. Heading straight for the back of the dining area where I expected to have to wait for Stenton, I was surprised when I saw his two security guys sitting at a table, closer to the front of the rear area. Behind them, way back in the rear, I saw Stenton seated in a booth. They nodded without friendly smiles, granting me entry to where their boss was waiting. That small occurrence reminded me of his stature. I couldn’t believe I was meeting with Stenton Rogers.
What a summer!
“Wow! Don’t you look…reserved,” Stenton jibed as he gave me a onceover.
I wore a long black skirt, with a plain white blouse and kitten heels. I had to usher that night during a revival my church was participating in. One of the bishops from the upper echelon of our organization was ministering that night and I’d helped prepare the church for the large crowd that was expected. Exhaustion was a word that paled in comparison to what I was feeling.
“Yeah, Jet Beauty of the Week, I know,” I replied wryly.
With an amused expression, he extended his arm, inviting me to sit across from him. I did, feeling a bit insecure all of a sudden. I hadn’t stopped home to change for fear of holding him up. I didn’t give much thought to my appearance, or considered that he would either.
“So, a mess, huhn?” Stenton asked, and I knew he was referring to Angela and Alton.
I sighed heavily. “A complete one.”
Stenton nodded.
“Do you know his lawyer contacted her this morning, asking for her medical history and that she take a test at a doctor’s office of his choosing? They’re threatening a DNA test in utero. Do you know how detailed and involved that is? He even wants her to sign an NDA agreement—” My eyes grew upon a revelation. “Is that why you asked me here? He wants me to sign one, too?”
My first thought went to my mother and how I wished she was here to help with this. I didn’t know much about legal matters. I’ve gotten myself into quite a quandary following behind that Angela! What in the world was I going to do?
Stenton chuckled. “I don’t want any parts of that bullshit. Alton and Angela are two adults that are going to have to figure out their affairs alone. That’s what I’ve told Alton…and Tynisha.”
My eyes squeezed shut. I’d momentarily forgotten about Tynisha. But that Alton had some nerve. He was eager to retreat with Angela after training, all summer.
“So, you’re being forced in the middle, too, I see.”
“They tried. I didn’t accept it,” was all he said.
I sulked. “I wish my resolve was that titanium. I’ve been miserable since it went down. According to our cousin, Karen, Angela feels that I don’t have her back and isn’t speaking to me. And that’s completely insane considering the reason I applied for this dumb program in the first place was for her. We’ve been tight since I moved here from South Carolina. My parents were broke and couldn’t find many opportunities down there. Angela’s mother invited us to stay at their place until my mom and dad got on their feet. We lived with Angela’s family for a little over a year before moving out into our own apartment in New Brunswick. Right away, we joined a church that was a part of the C.O.O.L.J.C. organization.”
I chuckled, staring at the table. “It was funny how our lives came together once we moved. My father had always owned his small rubbish company, and brought it along with him to generate new clientele, and he did in due time. My mother got a job as a cafeteria worker for a company the board of education contracted out to. While they were busy settling us, Angela and I were busy bonding.” I shook my head, exasperated. Stenton’s big inked hand reached over to cover mine in comfort. “Angela should have used better judgment!” I stopped to compose myself. The situation had been heavy on my heart more than I realized up until that point.
But I couldn’t stop there. I had more to upchuck and Stenton had this patient air to him, facilitating my need to vent. “We just ended a huge week-long revival at my church…prepared for this for months and when it finally arrives, our church community is in the middle of a fornication scandal,” I giggled, mostly from how ridiculous that statement sounded, yet how true it was. “And then my family, with their archaic views, are demanding marriage, and with Alton that isn’t exactly practical.” Stenton had to laugh at that one. “Needless to say, it’s not a good time in my family or church. And now folks are looking for me to drop the next bomb!”
“How have you been able to not fall into the traps?” he asked as he took a sip of his water. I couldn’t keep myself from ogling his lips. They were the shape of a heart. A full one.
“Traps as in pregnancy?”
He nodded.
“Oh, that won’t happen,” I snorted and delivered unequivocally. “I do things to protect myself. I don’t mind the idea of motherhood. I think it’s the most precious gift on the planet, but in my culture, it has to be accompanied by marriage and I want no parts of that. So, rubbers for me,” I sang off key.
Stenton shook his head, amused.
“No, seriously!” I continued my rant. “I’ve put things in place to avoid pregnancy…and even STDs. It never hurt anyone to use condoms. What’s the big deal? There’s no difference in the feeling. Just use protection.”
Then he belted out a full on laugh, breaking the wind from my sails. I then decided to bring it in, possibly having put my foot in my mouth. Just stay away from that topic. It was our first time out without being on the stealthy agenda of Angela and Alton and I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself.
I had no idea what I was doing alone with Stenton Rogers. Angela would kill me if she knew. She’s been in love with this guy since he was drafted. She’d still not made it clear that Alton wasn’t the father of her baby, and I’m sure she’d question my loyalty even more if she knew I was here with him.
What was even more traitorous on my part was that Stenton and I connected on social networking sites, and more recently via text messages. I thought my budding friendship with him ended that afternoon at the country club when Alton came through like a tornado, but Stenton surprised me when he asked to see me again. What he didn’t know was since I last saw him, I’d stalked all of his profiles.
“You take lots of selfies,” I mentioned casually.
“And you don’t?” Stenton replied just as coolly as he dipped his middle finger in his cup of water, swishing it around.
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve seen your timeline and photo albums.”
“Are you stalking me?” My heart stammered in my chest. Why that made me paranoid was beyond me.
“No more than you are me,” his voice remained even as his eyes slowly aligned with mine. “You noted my massive amounts of selfies.”
“I was simply pointing out your vanity. You know they associate excessive amounts of selfies with narcissism, right?”
Stenton picked up his drink as he chuckled. “Well, in my case it’s called business; more specifically, marketing. My publicists pushed for more candid shots on social networks to give the illusion of intimacy. It makes fans feel closer to me…like they actually know me. But if you, my perceptive Elizabeth, look closer—at each picture, you’ll notice they don’t give away shit about me personally. I’m just a sideshow act. I’m not expressing myself; I give the people what they want to see.”
Hmmmmm…
Expressing narcissism to give the illusion of intimacy? Is that what celebrities do? Is it necessary to protect who they really are? This was a hard theory to swallow considering all of the selfies and candid shots I’d seen of him. He seemed to be in his home, the gym and public places, but he was right; they never gave a clue as to who this man was other than his alleged vanity, something that I don’t pick up at all when with him. Who is the real Stenton Rogers? Was he the guy in all the pictures, smiling and appearing well socialized? Or was he the man who secretly invited me to a diner close to midnight in Kingston, a place I’d never heard of until then?
As we were seated in a small booth in the back of an empty section, I’d noticed he’d been quieter than usual tonight. I assumed he was preoccupied with something. I didn’t ask, though tempted to. I wondered if he felt the twinge of guilt that I had, knowing how Angela would feel about us being there together without her knowledge. No. That wouldn’t make any sense, considering he couldn’t give two craps about Angela. He’d only brought her up to express his confusion about our friendship now that he knows we’re actually family.
All of that aside, I needed to get honest about why I was here. I liked Stenton…in a friendship manner. He was funny, engaging and really smart, very much a hidden treasure. And if I was really honest, I’d admit to feeling a surge of excitement at the possibility of being one of the few who knew this side of him. What he saw in me, though, I had no idea. Maybe he felt sorry for me because of how I reacted to learning he dismissed my cousin’s advances via a lie about his relationship status. I still couldn’t believe that. He’d lied. To her. But with me…he seemed very transparent, no matter how annoying he was.
“I’d like to see more of you, though.”
I looked up from the table and saw that look in his eyes again. Stenton guarded his smile around me most days. I finally realized he didn’t trust me. And I got why, eventually. The more we talked, the more I could identify his problem with people always having an agenda and their hands out. I didn’t attempt to prove myself otherwise. My mother always taught me not to fight at getting people to know the real me. She would always say, with time they would know me better than any words could assist with. And that’s what I did with Stenton.
Could that be what the glint in his eyes as he sat across from me was all about?
“Huhn?”
He inclined in his seat, bringing my attention to those full heart-shaped lips that had recently begun haunting my private thoughts.
“I think you should take selfies. Converse to my practices, you can show people who you really are. Remind them of your natural beauty and introduce them to your incredible sense of humor,” he murmured with squinted eyes.
“Sense of humor? I have a sense of humor?” I couldn’t believe his observation. I’d been told about several of my alleged characteristics, but a good sense of humor—or one at all—wasn’t one.
“Yeah, like when you clown my wardrobe all the time. What was it that you called me? A—”
“A ghetto rocker?”
“Yup.” His lips twitched into an easy grin. “That’s one. A bootleg hood model is another.”
He let out a full laugh with that one. I joined him.
“Well, your style is a bit different. That’s evident in all of your selfies.” I busted out laughing at the recollection of some of them. “But then your poses can be so suave. You be like this.”
I squared my shoulders, straightened my neck and angled my head a few ways to mimic Stenton’s various poses. He tossed his head back and hooted hard. One of his security guys turned to see what was causing the ruckus. When they saw me sit on my knees and snatch Stenton’s baseball cap from his head and attempt my Stenton Rogers impersonating, even they cracked smiles.
Unable to breathe, Stenton yelped, “Give me my damn hat back. You can’t rock my shit and clown me at the same time. Fashion is subjective, man.”
He came over to my side of the booth and tried to grab his hat from my head. I argued, “No, what’s subjective is how appropriate those tuxedo shorts were you wore to that party last month.”
I laughed with him while continuing with my antics. When he was successful in getting the cap off my head, he then grabbed my phone and handed it to me.
“Here. I’m about to coach you on how to take silly pictures.”
I took my phone and went into the picture app. “I’m ready.”
Stenton instantly widened his eyes and stuck out his long and wide tongue. I mean…his tongue darn near reached to the bottom of his chin. I’d idly wondered could it extend longer. And then my curiosity caused me to wonder what it would feel like against my—
I clicked the camera then slammed the phone on the table.
“Got it. Enough of that. Hope you’re happy,” my voice was uncharacteristically low before I forced the straw from my drink into my suddenly dry mouth.
The trail my thoughts were leading down was not holy.
Stenton knowingly shook his head as he turned away from me.
“C’mon. It’s late.” He stood from the booth and offered his hand. “I’ve taken up enough of your time,” he muttered.
I wiggled my phone as I scooted off the bench to stand. “And memory.”
Brain memory, that is.
When his security saw us coming their way, they stood and walked ahead of us. I followed behind Stenton, who adjusted his hat on his head, and studied his body. His walk wasn’t as ponderous as other tall men. He had a bit of elegance about his stance and stride.
“Where are you parked?” Stenton called back to me.
“Ummm…all the way in the back, by the gate.”
When we arrived to the back of the parking lot, I took the lead to my car. My mind churned with what this farewell experience would be like. I mean, what would I say to him? I thought this would go down a different way, like a quick nice meeting you in the early afternoon hours at the country club. I spent most of my summer with this guy: the guy everyone knew as Stenton Rogers. And now we were preparing to say goodbye. As much as I resented having to spend time with the insufferable man, my heart had evolved in terms of him. It had softened to him. At this point, I really liked him as a friend. But I didn’t think I’d ever see him again outside of a television screen or print ad, so how would I express it was nice meeting you? My mind wouldn’t slow.
I was so flustered that when we arrived at my car, I turned to him and buried my face in my palms. “I know…I know…I know I’m supposed to be polite and come up with parting words…use proper etiquette.” My voice turned apologetic, pleading even. “But I really can’t think of anything, except for it’s been really cool getting to know you without the assistance of Google. It’s sped my summer up, and made what Angela did that much more bearable because at least I had someone to suffer with me. Uhhh…”
My eyes swept the ground below as I tried to think of something more.
Oh!
“It was cool meeting a fellow-rocker. Now, I’m really going to look for that KISS t-shirt signed by Gene Simmons. Uhhh… It’s great to have that genre of music in common with someone who shares the same skin tone…or ethnicity…well, not so much of the latter because you’re mixed. And…uhhh…don’t wo
rry about me stalking you. Here…” I pulled out my cell phone.
“Zoey.”
“I’ll delete your number. I swear I don’t have it memorized or written anywhere. You can go on ahead and delete me from Facebook and other sites now that we won’t be seeing each other. I appreciate you giving me the opportunity to get to know—”
“Zoey,” he called out again, pointedly. “Shut up.” I didn’t see a smile or hear humor in his tenor.
“W-why are you telling me to shut up?”
“Because I didn’t ask you out here tonight to say goodbye, per se—or at least I hope we’re not saying goodbye.” He changed his stance, lowering himself to align his gaze with mine. “I wanted to see you tonight because you challenged me with proving that my teeth are real.”
I stood there with my mouth facing the ground, trying to process what he’d said. For a moment, I was lost, unable to comprehend his intent. Just then, Stenton took me at the back of my head, aggressively pulling me into his hot hard frame and positioned his lips to align with mine. Immediately, my body melted into him.
His long fingers raked through my hair at the roots, gripping my scalp as he held me. On my tippy toes, and with my elongated neck, I stood enraptured as his lengthy and wide tongue swirled in my mouth, tasting every inch of my cavity, even the front of my teeth, between my gums. My belly stirred with carnal desire and my entire frame vibrated with sensual energy. I didn’t know how long he explored my mouth, neither could I think straight to measure. But I knew I didn’t want him to stop. I’d never been so thoroughly kissed. Never knew so much could be expressed and experienced through a kiss.
Stenton retracted his tongue then full lips, suddenly leaving me bereft. My eyes flickered open and caught his darkened orbs.
“That’s how you can assess my teeth,” he informed hoarsely.
Though he attempted humor, his eyes were slanted, heavy with need and his proximity dizzied me. I don’t think I’d ever smelled anything so virile in my life.
