8
“So you had a good time with Professor Fletcher, huh?” Nicky asked, as I led her into my living room.
I watched her plop down on my sofa and gave her a smile. “Yeah, how’d you know?”
“He had a little pep in his step this morning.”
It was Monday afternoon and since our date on Saturday, we’d met for coffee on Sunday and made plans to attend the Jesse Boykins III concert at the Regal Amphitheater together on the following Friday. I relayed all of this to Nicky and in response, she sighed.
“You just can’t help it, can you?”
I frowned. “Help what?”
“You are exactly one date away from being in a relationship with a man you just met! I mean, really, Ang? Really? This is exactly how you ended up with Benny and Khalil!”
“I like him. What am I supposed to do? Just stop seeing him?”
She leaned forward, carefully enunciating every word as if each was foreign to me. “You’re supposed to be dating. Like, more than one guy.”
“You had to fix me up with Harrison. How am I supposed to find another guy to go out with?”
“Sis! You’re an attractive woman. You have a nice body. You gonna sit there and tell me guys don’t approach you—oh, wait, your ass is a hermit. I forgot.”
I lifted a brow. “I actually leave home quite often.”
“I know. You frequent several drive-thrus, and I bet when you do happen to go into a public place, you’re wearing that scowl you always wear. Poor guys are probably afraid to even approach you.”
I frowned. “What scowl?”
“That one! The one you’re wearing now. That ‘do not approach me, I’m not interested’ scowl.”
I pursed my lips. “Whatever.”
“Here’s your mission: go somewhere, anywhere, and smile and be friendly. I bet some guy approaches you.”
“And stop seeing Harrison?”
“At least put more days between your dates with him. Sheesh!”
I opened my mouth to reply, but a knock at my front door halted me. Nicky’s eyes were glued to me as I stood and checked the peephole. Glancing at her, I opened the door and smiled at him. “Hi,” I said.
“Hi, um…the mailman stuck some of your mail in my box,” he said, holding up a couple of envelopes.
“Oh, thank you. It happens from time to time. I’ll probably be bringing you your misplaced mail sooner or later.”
Ryan Boyé’s eyes sparkled. “Well, at least you know where I live.”
“Yeah, off early today?” I asked for some unknown reason. I guess I just wanted an excuse to look at him a little longer, and of course, to hear his voice.
“Angie, you could let the man in instead of interrogating him in your doorway,” Nicky called from behind me.
“Oh, yeah. I’m being rude. Wanna come in?” I asked.
With a smile, he replied, “Sure.”
He took a seat in the accent chair I had vacated, and I sat next to Nicky on the sofa. “Mr. Boyé, this is my sister, Nicole. Nicky, this is my new tenant, Ryan Boyé.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” he said, standing to shake Nicky’s hand.
“Oooh, nice accent. Louisiana, right?” Nicky flirted.
He gave her a lopsided grin. “Yes.”
“Hmm,” Nicky said, eyeing him like a shark would a school of tiny fish.
“So, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what exactly is it that you do at Sable Inc.? Like, what does Project Oversight Manager mean?” I asked, hoping to ease any awkwardness Nicky’s appraisal might’ve been causing. Her eyes were glued to the man!
“It means I oversee any new projects the company’s hospitality division undertakes. Here, we’re refurbishing that old Covington Inn building out by the train station. A local business-owner has purchased a Sable Inn franchise from us to be housed there, and it’s my job to offer support to the franchisee with everything from securing contracts with vendors to training staff. Basically, my main purpose here is to ensure that the hotel meets our standards so that when it opens, the guests will know without a doubt that they’ve stepped into a Sable Inn.”
“Oh, wow. That sounds really interesting. How long have you been doing that?” I asked.
“We just began our foray into the hospitality industry two years ago. Before that, I oversaw other projects like the establishment of satellite offices, and for a short while, I handled our grocery store chain franchises. It’s a great job. I get to travel the world. I love it.”
“Travel the world? I’m sure I would love that, too,” I said.
“Girl, please! You have the best job in the world, and you have great opportunities to travel.” Nicky turned to Ryan. “You know, my sister’s a YouTube celebrity, a hair vlogger. She gets invited to hair and beauty events all the time. She was even invited to Paris. If I could just get her to go somewhere…”
I shook my head. “Don’t mind my sister. She loves to exaggerate.”
“Yeah, right!” Nicky shot back.
“I had no idea you were a vlogger. Now, that’s interesting,” Ryan said, his eyes glued to me.
I shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”
“How’d you get started with that?” he asked, seeming genuinely interested.
I leaned back and smiled. “Well, a few years back, I had just done the big chop, you know, cut my permed hair off to go natural? And I was between jobs, home bored one day when I decided to document my hair journey on video and upload it to YouTube like I’d seen other people doing, and to my surprise, I became popular pretty fast. Started out using my cell phone and eventually got a digital camera and some studio lights, and the rest is history. I became 4C Angie.”
“Wow, that’s incredible!”
“It really is. Well, I’ve gotta go or I’ll be late for my next class,” Nicky announced, hopping to her feet. “Don’t get up.” She kissed my cheek and waved to Ryan as she breezed past him. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yes, same here,” he said to her, but his eyes were still on me.
I dropped my gaze after she closed the door behind her, unsure of what to do or say now that I was alone with him. When I looked up to see him still staring at me, I felt a familiar sense of anxiety.
Finally, he said, “I saw you at Coda the other night. You’re a jazz lover?”
My mouth dropped open only a little, but I’m sure the surprise was written all over the rest of my face. “You were there? I didn’t see you.”
“Yes, I was there. Nice place, right?”
I nodded. It was his eyes that were burning a hole in my back that night. I was sure of that, because they were burning a hole in my front at that very moment. His gaze was scorching me. The nice, personable, aw-shucks smile was gone. Mr. Boyé was drinking me in with his eyes like a predator would its prey, and the shift in the atmosphere made the skin over my chest tighten. I was attracted to him, and it appeared he was attracted to me, too, but he was my tenant. He was business, and he had to be a dog. He just had to be.
“Uh…” I began, fervently searching my mind for something to say, an out.
He abruptly stood, and that innocent smile of his returned. “I should go. Uh…I-um, I’ll see you around.”
I followed him the few steps to my front door, and as I watched him leave, said, “Yeah.”