by Tiana Laveen
Vivian took the plate and picked a forkful of food. Just as she was about to bring it to her mouth for a much anticipated bite, Shahzad grabbed the fork and did the honors. She opened wide and he gently fed her, then took the plate from her, grabbed his own fork, and tasted the food, as well. They smiled at each other, and she felt an exhilaration like no other. Perhaps it was just that moment when you realize you’re enjoying someone’s company… a bit too much. Soon, they started talking over the commotion and she laughed at a story he relayed about a house renovation he’d done long ago, where the kitchen had been found full of raisins, mistaken for rat turds. It had been a former daycare center.
More small plates were brought to them, paired with an assortment of amazing wines. She savored the ham, an asparagus and caviar dish, a lobster apple tart, and melon and cucumber salad, just to name a few. As she stuffed her face and enjoyed the banter, she couldn’t help but notice some of the framed awards on the walls, one being, ‘Best restaurant in the World.’ She had no idea such a thing existed. Shahzad was an excellent conversationalist – funny and informative, charming to a fault. It was refreshing that he didn’t simply rely on his looks to carry him through life.
“So, since you seem to be enjoying yourself, and I suppose I’ve made a good impression, I’d like to ask you some questions.” He took a sip of his red wine.
“Sure, what is it?” She dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a napkin after a waiter swung by and removed her empty plate like clockwork.
“What are your wishes and desires in life?”
“Well, that’s awfully broad. Let’s narrow it down. Do you mean career wise?”
“Certainly. We can start there.”
“To become a bar critic.”
“A bar critic? Really? Now that’s not an answer I was expecting. Tell me more.”
“It’s similar to a restaurant critic, only it’s for bars. Believe it or not, I love the bar atmosphere. You can learn so much about people and it’s a place where people unwind and just become themselves. It’s almost like seeing a shrink for some, only the psychologist lives in the bottom of a bottle.”
They both had a good chuckle at that.
“I beg to differ though. Just as we discussed during our first time meeting, I think the psychologist is you… the bartender. People don’t just come there to get wasted. They come to decompress and talk to someone who will listen.”
She nodded in agreement.
“I just wish to be in a more executive and influential position though, if you will.” Shahzad nodded in understanding. “I went to bartending school.”
“I know.” She cocked her head to the side in confusion. She hadn’t told him that.
“You do? How do you know I went to bartending school?” Her heart skipped a beat, but he seemed so calm and collected.
“In your apartment, you have your certificate framed on your kitchen wall. I can see it every time your door opens.”
She laughed lightly and nodded. She’d forgotten all about that.
“Oh yes, that’s right. So, there are eatery critics, movie critics, etcetera, but I’d like to focus strictly on bars and taverns. Places where their specialty is serving cocktails. Believe it or not, I’m not a heavy drinker, but I know a good martini when I see and taste one. I have an extensive knowledge of wines and beers, anything from their history to little known facts. I’ve worked at three different bars in New York and before that, I did some waitressing amongst other gigs to make ends meet. I’ve always had great ideas for improvement, but sometimes those suggestions go in one ear and out the other.”
“Yes, that seems to be the way of upper management.” He slid a hand into his jeans pocket. “What is required for you to be an official bar critic?”
“They typically want you to have a four-year degree in a culinary field or something similar. I have a bachelor’s degree but it’s in philosophy. My mother tried to warn me.” She rolled her eyes. “Needless to say, it wasn’t money or time well spent but I’d like to work for a magazine or online blog. Some people, though it’s not often, make a real name for themselves. It’s a highly competitive field, but I also believe in multiple streams of income.”
“Very good thinking. That’s smart. So what are some of your other interests? What do you enjoy?”
“I don’t have the money to indulge right now, but I love to travel. I wouldn’t mind working a bit in that field, too, but travel agents are less of a thing now with all the online accommodations. I also like hosting and event planning. I tend to be the ‘go to girl’ in my family when people are low on money but want a birthday party or wedding planned and executed well.”
“So, you’re organized. Pay attention to detail. Willing to travel. Enjoy learning about other parts of the world. Can stick tight to a budget and have an eye for things aesthetically pleasing.”
“Well, damn! You make me sound fantastic. Excuse me while I ask myself out on a date. I hope I say yes! Hello? Vivian? Girl… I’ve been watching you!” She turned her back for a spell as if she were in a conversation with someone else, causing him to burst with laughter. When she turned back around, his temples and ears were red. How cute. “So, Shahzad, I must say, this whole private eating experience at one of the most expensive and sought-after restaurants in town is something I won’t soon forget!” She laughed, eliciting a smile from him. “I’m stuffed. I also can’t pronounce half of the items I ate.”
“Have you enjoyed yourself?”
“I most certainly have.” Before she could utter another word, he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. Heat raced through her body as she surged with carnal delight, becoming slightly lightheaded with his touch. He pulled slowly away, keeping his eye on her as he drew out a gold credit card. As if planned, a man in a dark suit took it from him without missing a beat.
“So…” He stole a brief glance at his watch. “I want to get to the second portion of our date. We better get ready to go.”
“Second portion?” She arched a brow in surprise. “I thought this was it?”
“Nope. The fun has just begun.”
“You went all out, huh? I mean, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth but—”
“Nothing is nearly enough for you.” His tone was serious though he was smiling. A few seconds later, the well-dressed man returned his credit card. She drank what was left of her wine as he signed the receipt.
As they stepped out of the restaurant, she reflected on how he’d called her last minute and told her to not wear anything too fancy. She’d been kind of bummed by that but in no way had she expected that the change of plans was not due to the location, but to the nature of the visit.
Dared she admit it, she was truly impressed.
The experience of standing in a sweltering, busy restaurant kitchen and having famous chefs cook for you right before your eyes had been unbelievable! It had felt like a fairytale… Anything she’d wanted to try, her heart’s desire, had been granted to her. The cool night air hit her face, invigorating her. The valet pulled up with his car. Moments later, she was sitting in the passenger’s seat with Duran Duran’s, ‘Nite Runner’ playing from the stereo. She sent her sister and Liz a quick text:
I can’t figure this guy out! He’s great though. I’m doing great. Date is going great. Will fill you in later.
“You seem to enjoy a lot of 80’s tunes. I do, too.” She slid her phone back into her purse.
“Yeah? I definitely do. They had a vibe I can appreciate though honestly, I like all sorts of music. That’s great that you like it too. Something else we have in common.”
They engaged in a bit of small talk where she discovered he came from a large family, him being the second to last of seven boys. His father had been a financial Assessor in Morocco and his mother had held the traditional role of stay-at-home mom, though she did have a small business creating beautiful garments for special occasions. Shahzad pulled into a parking space along 5th Avenue. Before she knew it
, he was helping her out of the car. He took her hand, then as they approached a crosswalk, he suddenly released it.
“Come on.” She motioned, pointing to the WALK sign that was now flashing. “We can cross now.”
“No. Go on. I want to watch you walk.” She pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side. What a strange request… but he was a strange man, so it fit. “Humor me.” He laughed lightly and tossed up his hands as if to say, ‘I’m just silly but I like what I like.’
Well, what could be the harm? It’s not like he asked me for a golden shower.
She took a deep breath, not certain what to make of his request, then headed across the street. When she looked back a couple of times, he motioned for her to keep going… and keep going. And going some more. When she paused yet again, her heart nearly dropped. A blur of people walked around him, she could make him out so clearly. He seemed to glow and everyone else was simply dancing around him, while leaving him a sliver of personal space.
He raised his hand in the air, then snapped his fingers. Just then, the light changed to WALK again and he joined her. His steps were fast, – but not too much so, and once again, women’s eyes were upon him like hawks lurking for prey. There was no denying that Shahzad was physically stunning. He had the type of attractiveness that caused even straight men to do double takes, and yet, his prettiness was torn at the edges with rugged masculinity. He was the best of both worlds. There was also no denying that he was filthy fucking rich, a bit conceited, pushy and definitely devious…
A part 2 to our date, huh? I wonder what this damn devil has up his sleeve this time?
As she walked away from him, he observed the way her hips shimmied from side to side, a natural sway… Beautiful. Shahzad believed himself addicted to the essence of women. It was the most magnificent thing in the world. The curves of her body reminded him of a violin;. The way she rubbed the side and back of her neck when thinking called to him, pulled him closer. She’d told him about her sister, her mother and her father over dinner. The man was now remarried and living in Barbados. But what he wanted to know most about was her. The reason for her desires, the root of her wishes…
Each step she took as she drifted away from him, he waited… hoping. Out in the air, he mouthed the words, dark whispers with silver linings that tempted even the most self-controlled.
What are your wishes, my dear Vivian? What do you want? What drives you, keeps you up at night? What pushes you to keep trying? Shower me with your desires.
His requests were granted. As she walked, she wished the night would go on. She liked him… and that pleased him so. She wished to be kissed again, touched… Her body was warm and wet for him. The deep, sweet folds between her thighs cried in anticipation. She wanted to forget about her troubles at work, the unpaid bills, at least for one night. He was pleased to discover that she wished to also use her education and experience and turn it into something far more profitable. Sure, being a paid critic sounded posh, but he knew those positions were actually quite demanding and oftentimes hard to come by.
Regardless, he believed she could handle it just fine and if he needed to pull a few strings, he definitely would. He rubbed his hands together as he contemplated ways to make her fantasies a reality, then, when he had it all mapped out, he snapped his fingers and the wish reading was officially over. Things would begin to fall into place, even in her sleep.
Taking her hand, he led them through the thick crowd into a glass building. Once they made their way down the long, white marble hall, Vivian pointed to an open area.
“Hmm, this is strange. Is this a hair salon?”
“Kinda.”
A woman with long, poker straight dark hair that was parted down the middle approached them, wearing a black smock.
“Hello, my name is Bethany Woods. You must be Vivian Carver.” She extended her hand.
“Yes, uh, I am. Nice to meet you.” Vivian looked confused.
The half Asian, half White stylist kept her professional demeanor, despite the woman’s obvious uneasiness.
“Please have a seat right over here in this chair.”
“To do my hair? Definitely not. That’s a big fat no.” Vivian clutched the material of her shirt with a firm grip, twisting it. “I don’t like getting my hair or anything like that professionally done. Too many horror stories and no offense… but you may not know how to handle my hair anyway.”
The woman shot a glance Shahzad, as if not certain what to do. He nodded, giving her the go ahead to plead her case.
“Please don’t let my appearance fool you. I’m familiar with African American hair, Ms. Carver.”
“Vivian, I want you to trust this woman. She is a celebrity hair stylist, most sought after.”
She gave the woman a once over, still appearing rather skittish about the notion.
“In fact, a few of my clients are Regina King, KeKe Palmer, and Megan Good, just to name a few.”
Vivian reluctantly sat down in the salon seat. As she was being catered to, and beautiful soft music played, Shahzad leaned down and whispered in her ear.
“I think you’re beautiful just as you are. I just got the feeling that you don’t treat yourself much or do things for yourself in the way of pampering. All women deserve to feel beautiful. I had a feeling that you may want this, so I decided to take you to one of the best in the business.” He kissed her forehead, then drifted lower to her lips. Slipping his tongue along her mouth, he gently pried it open, delivering soft oral thrusts. She didn’t resist. The chemistry between them felt like electric currents racing through his body. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before…
He reluctantly released her.
“I will be back in thirty minutes.” With a quick wave, he made his way out the door, leaving her there, yearning… hoping… and damn sure, wishing…
Shahzad disappeared… like cigarette smoke.
Vivian watched the man walk out the glass doors and vanish, as if he’d never been there at all. Now here she was, twenty-three minutes later, and she wondered where the hell he’d gone. Her hair had been washed and conditioned and she was back in that chair, listening to some strange music and having the audacity to stuff her mouth with chocolate-covered cherries after the big banquet she’d had just an hour prior. Who abandoned their date on a first date?! No word as to where he was going, either! Well, who would take a new date to a top-rated celebrity hairstylist, either? Maybe that explained it. He was odd.
She sent a quick text to Liz:
Vivian: This MF has me sitting here getting my hair done by some lady that you probably have to book months in advance for. He’s nowhere to be found.
Liz: Ur getting your hair done on a date? LMAO!!!! He must’ve gotten tired of you looking like the guy from Flock of Seagulls.
Vivian: Ur a big help. I’ll call you later.
The whole matter was a bit unnerving. On one end, it was like he disapproved of her appearance and wished to change her, but on the other hand, it was as if he were living inside her brain. Just a couple of days prior she’d been complaining to her mother about how she needed a new look; she was tired of her current hair style. She’d let her hair grow out since the previous summer, but other than that, it was lifeless. It had no style. She’d complained about her wardrobe, too, not having any money to play with, all sorts of things and now here she was – one of the problems solved in an instant. She glanced out the windows, people watching. The woman doing her hair was actually quite nice, asking her questions about what type of styles she liked and giving suggestions based on her facial structure.
When she turned back to the mirror she was astounded at how full her hair looked with fresh layers cut into it.
“Isn’t that gorgeous?” the stylist asked. “It frames your pretty face so nicely.”
“Thank you. It really is nice! I was afraid when you talked about cutting it, but now I see it doesn’t really look that much shorter but it definitely looks fuller. I like the… Oh, hold on.
” She felt her phone vibrate. She went to look at it and immediately noted the time… Now the guy had been gone for almost forty minutes. Her eyes nearly bucked out of her head. There, on the screen, was a notice from her bank. $3,791.43 had been added to her account. The exact amount her ex-roommate owed.
“Oh, thank God! She finally paid me back! Oh… sorry! I didn’t mean to yell! I’m still yelling, aren’t I?” Vivian and the stylist burst out laughing. “It’s a long story but this charlatan, and that’s puttin’ it nicely, that I was living with wasn’t pulling her weight and left me in financial distress. It was an expensive lesson learned. I was prepared to take her to court but looks like she’s taken care of everything.”
“Oh my goodness, don’t you hate shit like that?!” The stylist laughed. “So happy you got your money back. Anyway, I think your boyfriend will love your hair like this! It really suits you.” She turned her to and fro in the swiveling chair.
“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend. We’re just friends.” The stylist gave her a disbelieving look, but she had no time to say anything else. The man walked through the door, big and bold as shit. “Speaking of the devil! We were just talking about you, Shahzad.”
“Sorry for being late, baby! Oh, wow! You look amazing!” He swooped down, gave her a quick peck on the lips, then began talking to the stylist.
Baby? This man is ridiculous… I know he thinks he’s getting some pussy tonight just because he’s treated me like some damn queen today but he’s wrong. Well, shit… on second thought, he just might get some pussy. I’m in the mood. I don’t fuck on first dates though! Hold up, there was that one time…
She burst out laughing then stopped herself when Shahzad paused from speaking and shot her a glance with a raised brow. The two continued their discussion and then she saw the now infamous gold credit card come out of his wallet. Moments later, the woman was finishing up her hair and removed the cape used to protect her clothing and catch her clippings. With a proud smile, Vivian got to her feet and patted her half bang.
“It looks so good!” She giggled. “I’m in shock, actually. I always thought my face was too round for this sort of style.” It reminded her of an Aaliyah look, the famous singer, only a bit shorter.
