Nisha watched Alexander walk out of the dining room. She took a sip of her drink and tried to wrap her head around what was happening mentally. His hair had gotten longer since she last saw him and she couldn’t help but notice the admiring glances he got from other women who were in the restaurant. Looks aren’t everything, she reminded herself as she broke off a piece of bread and buttered it.

She sighed when she thought about the short amount of time he’d played host to her. They did nothing but bicker with each other. It seemed that every time she opened her mouth, he would challenge her. She tried to offer a truce by making him dinner, but he became unusually quiet during the meal. After he had helped her clean up the kitchen, she excused herself and spent the rest of the evening in his guest room reading. And she could've kicked herself for letting him distract her with the story about Anthony. He'd expertly avoided her question—a tactic she'd used many times.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a voice say, “I guess he’s the ‘something important’ that came up.”

She dropped her bread on the plate and looked up. Nicholas was standing over her, a frown on his face and his body language unwelcoming.

“You followed me?” She couldn’t mask the surprise in her voice.

“No, I didn’t follow you, Nisha. After I got the message that you canceled…again…I decided to meet some friends here for drinks.” He nodded toward the other side of the restaurant.

Of all the restaurants in Philly, he had to show up at the one where she was having dinner with Alexander? She had crummy luck.

“He’s a family friend who came to town unexpectedly,” she stammered. She stood up and tried to take his hand, but he pulled away before she could. “Honestly, Nicholas, it’s not what it looks like.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, Nisha, it’s how to read people. I watched you two. You’re definitely into each other.”

She blinked. “That’s ridiculous. We’ve been here less than fifteen minutes.”

“And the other thing I’ve learned is that when someone starts a sentence with ‘honestly,’ they’re being anything but.”

Nicholas walked out passing Alexander who was coming back from his phone call.

Nisha sat back down and let out a sigh.

“I have to leave,” Alexander announced as he removed his wallet and threw two hundred dollars on the table. “That’ll cover dinner and a cab ride home for you.”

Alexander was more rattled by the phone call to Shasta than he wanted to admit. He knew that Christy was in grave danger and since Anthony wasn’t anywhere near the camp, he insisted that Shasta call the police. She was reluctant at first, but Alexander told her it was the only option. Unless other gang members that were regulars and loyal to Anthony showed up at the camp and would be willing to take on the other men, Shasta had no choice. He was relieved when he convinced her and knew that even though there was nothing he could do from Philadelphia, he had to catch an earlier flight home. There would be a major fallout to deal with at the camp, and he had to be there.

She stood up again. “What do you mean you have to leave?”

He didn’t seem like he was going to offer an explanation as he looked at her with those icy blue eyes. Eyes that weren’t apologetic or sorry. She could feel the anger start to build.

“Because I accepted this dinner date with you, I risked ruining a relationship that had potential,” she hissed in a low voice. “And he confirmed that I did indeed destroy any chances I may have had with him.” She nodded toward the door where Nicholas had just exited.

“That’s unfortunate,” Alexander told her.

“Unfortunate?” she asked. It was something her brother would’ve said. Alexander didn’t make excuses for himself or apologize. Apparently, he had picked up some of Anthony’s cruder personality traits. She caught sight of her waiter coming toward them with their meals. “And dinner will be here in five seconds. What do you expect me to do?” she asked in an irritated tone.

He grabbed her and kissed her softly on her lips. “You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” He turned around and walked away. She gritted her teeth and threw her cloth napkin at his back.

“You, you…” Her anger was so thick she couldn’t think of a vile name to call him so she called him one word that would cover every imaginable detestable name in the book. A word she hadn’t thought about in decades. A word that dredged up a long-suppressed ache in her soul. “You Owani!!!”

He stopped, and for a split second she thought he might turn around, but he didn’t. He kept going.

The waiter set their plates down and gave her a questioning look. “Can you pack those up to go, please?” she asked as she downed the rest of her Brandy Alexander in one long gulp.

“Why does my favorite drink have to have his name in it?” she asked out loud as she watched the waiter walk away carrying a plate in each hand.

Two hours later, she soaked in her bathtub and let the hot water soothe her. She’d been livid down to the marrow in her bones when Alexander not only left the restaurant without explanation, but mucked up any chance she may have had with Nicholas. She wanted to hang on to that anger to eradicate what that brief kiss did to her insides. She was now feeling relaxed and looked forward to a hot cup of tea and immersing herself in a novel she’d been meaning to read.

Later, she put on her nightshirt and was brushing out her hair when the telephone rang. She picked up the phone that was sitting on her nightstand.

“Hello?”

She quickly hung up after hearing the disgusting words that were being whispered. She tucked her hair behind her ear and took a deep breath. Who was this person saying such obscene and horrible things? It was obviously a man who was disguising his voice. She jumped when the phone rang again and pondered whether to answer it. I’ll give Mr. Dirty Mouth a piece of my mind, she thought. She picked it up on the second ring.

“What?” she yelled into the phone.

“Nisha, it’s Alexander.”

She rolled her eyes and plopped on the bed. Owani! she thought.

"If you’re calling to apologize, I’m not accepting," she told him.

“I’ve been detained at the airport. I forgot I bought a switchblade today. I meant to give it to you and ask you to mail it to me. Anyway, they found it in my pocket when I was going through security."

“That’s unfortunate,” she said, mimicking his earlier response. Her voice was steely.

“You’re not funny. I’m a convicted felon, so this will probably get complicated. I need you to help me. You’re an attorney. I have to get back to Florida, and I have to do it quickly. I’m not sure what my next step is. I’ve never been taken into custody for an airport security violation.” He brushed his hand down his face.

A beat passed. He didn’t think she was going to answer him.

“You’re a smart guy. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

He heard the click of the telephone and knew she’d hung up on him. He couldn’t help himself from smiling and realized he was more than attracted to her. He was downright infatuated, and this wasn't over. As a matter of fact, it'd just begun. He turned around to the officer that had detained him. “Can I make another phone call?”