“She’s the mother of my kid and needed a place to stay.”
“And I’m your… what? Girlfriend? I didn’t know what to tell her. The whole situation was awkward, especially since we haven’t made our new relationship status known to many people.”
“Of course you’re my girlfriend, and you could have told her. I couldn’t leave her out in the cold when I have an extra bedroom where she can stay, and of course she wanted to be with Prince, and Prince is with me. Do you really want me to stick her in a hotel?”
“I don’t want you to do anything, but I’m allowed to feel how I do. I’m allowed to be uncomfortable with this whole set up.” Dana flicked her hand in the direction of the doorway and then marched down the hall.
“Dana.”
He caught her wrist, but she hauled away her arm.
“You’re being unreasonable,” Omar ground out.
“Go be with your ex, Mr. Casanova, I’m fine.”
His face settled into hard lines. “Don’t do that. You know good and damn well the Mr. Casanova foolishness doesn’t apply to me and you.”
She released a high-pitched laugh. “Everything else was true about you. You are hung, you have great stamina, and you’re amazing in bed. Why should I suddenly believe you won’t hop from woman to woman when I’ve seen it myself? Have you forgotten, I’ve spent years watching you go through them. One night you’re with A, three weeks later you’re telling me about B, two days later there’s a brand new one—C! I’ve seen you collect phone numbers like stamps, Omar, and I was there when Athena broke your heart. You were devastated.”
“I was hurt and humiliated, but I wasn’t devastated,” he corrected.
“Semantics,” she snapped. “A while back, you told me she still wants to get with you, remember? And I’m supposed to be okay with her staying in your condo? Hell no.”
“What do you want me to do? Kick her out on the street?”
“You know what, Omar, I don’t want you to do anything. Go play house with your ex. Carry on, as you always have because frankly, I don’t think you’re taking our relationship very seriously, and I will not be made a fool of.”
The elevator opened, and she practically stomped into the cabin. Omar stood in the hallway, an expression of displeasure on his face, the last thing she saw before the doors closed.
Dana stumbled out of bed and fumbled with putting on her robe. Someone was leaning on the doorbell, and she intended to kill them when she opened the door.
Bleary-eyed, she shuffled down the stairs and peered through the peephole. Though the lights weren’t on, she recognized the familiar shape of Omar’s head and shoulders in the dark.
She unlatched and opened the door.
“I need a place to stay tonight. My girlfriend doesn’t approve of me staying at my condo while my ex is there.”
She leaned her shoulder against the door, her heart squeezing at the sight of him. He looked absolutely delicious in a chest-hugging T-shirt and jeans.
“Your girlfriend?”
“Yes. I’m staking my claim, in case I wasn’t clear before. You’re my girlfriend.”
He stepped into the apartment, effectively forcing her to move backward, and closed the door. Setting down his duffel bag, he said, “We need to talk about what happened. Really talk. Not argue.”
“I wasn’t trying to be difficult,” Dana said defensively. She spent the rest of the day wondering if she had overreacted.
“I get it. I’d act the same way if one of your exes showed up and was staying at your place. I’d probably sit outside in my car like a psycho.”
She laughed, appreciating his sense of humor and relieved the anger between them had dissipated.
“I hardly slept the last few days. All I thought about was us and all the big moments over the years. How when I considered early retirement, you’re the first person I called to discuss the idea with, before I even told my parents. How you stayed with me for two days straight when I caught the flu and made sure I drank plenty of fluids. How you make sure I get my physicals every year. You’re more than a friend. You’re my partner, and I hate you were upset. You shouldn’t have to worry about exes showing up or sexy texts.”
Dana swallowed the emotion clogging her throat. “If the situation was reversed, you’d have a problem with me receiving dick pics, unsolicited or not.”
“Damn right. I would be pissed.” Omar pulled her against his body.
She leaned into his warm strength and reveled in the comfort of his embrace. “I was scared of losing you,” she whispered, which wasn’t easy to admit. She preferred to think of herself as strong and resilient. Being with Omar made her feel emotional and vulnerable.
“I know, and that’s my bad. Your happiness is important to me, Dana, and I never want you to feel uncomfortable or disrespected,” he said in a grave voice. “I didn’t want to ask Athena to stay someplace else, but I don’t have to stay at the condo.”
He kissed her gently, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Where do you plan to stay?” Dana asked coyly.
“I was thinking I could stay here, which should keep me out of the dog house.”
“It might.” Dana gave him a kiss, slipping in tongue and groaning when his hands cupped her bottom.
“It’s late. Let’s go to bed.” Omar kissed her forehead and took her hand, leading the way upstairs.
“Yes, sir,” Dana said with a big grin.
22
Upon the advice of one of the consultants he worked with, Omar decided to do a soft opening of Kitchen Love, which would allow them to get feedback and determine if they had adequate staff and equipment to run the non-profit restaurant on a full-scale. Based on tonight’s results, they could adjust for any deficiencies in time for the grand opening in a few weeks.
Invitations went out to a limited number of people, which included food bloggers, traditional media, and community leaders who could help get the word out to the demographic they wanted to serve. Instead of offering the full menu choices, Omar and his partners opted to spotlight a sampling of the dishes, including fried catfish, meatloaf made using his mother’s recipe, and a few more meat and chicken dishes. Overall, he remained confident the night would go well.
Dressed in a dark gray jacket and green shirt Dana insisted he wear because the color looked good on him and brought out the green in his eyes, Omar walked through the dining room watching volunteers straighten the tables and make final adjustments to ensure a proper presentation to the public. In the back, food preppers chopped and diced to get ready for when the orders started coming in.
Prince was with a babysitter tonight, and Dana was right there beside him as he did his inspections. She looked great, with her dreadlocks hanging down to her waist, her lips a burnt red color, her nose rings, and a hot-looking black pantsuit she paired with gold and black heels. He couldn’t wait to get her home and set those heels on his shoulders, but for now he needed to be patient and simply appreciated having her by his side.
Less than an hour before opening, Dana was in the kitchen and Omar was chatting with the male and female hosts in a corner of the dining room when his parents and Athena arrived, and to his surprise, Cole walked in with them.
Dorothy walked over, and as she gave Omar a hug, she whispered in a strained voice, “He wanted to come. He said he wanted to support you.”
Omar glanced at his brother, standing near the entrance in a white shirt and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his dark trousers. He’d been in Atlanta almost three months now.
“Looking good, bro,” Cole remarked, coming forward.
“Thanks. Glad you came.”
“Of course. I would never miss another one of your great accomplishments.” He flashed a disarming grin.
Omar’s back stiffened. Cole spoke a little too loud, as if he’d been drinking. Wonderful. He didn’t need any drama tonight of all nights.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Athena asked, rub
bing her hands together. She wore a black cocktail dress and let her long hair cascade in loose waves down her back.
“No, but I can show you all around real quick before everyone arrives.”
“Great idea,” his father said, sounding odd.
Something was wrong. Omar’s gaze landed on his mother, and she gave him a faint smile. She appeared downright nervous, and he suspected there must’ve been an argument either before they left the house or on the car ride over.
“Follow me,” he said.
He showed them the dining room and pointed out the little touches like the dark wood tables, which another restaurant group donated to them. Professionals had polished the hardwood floor to a shine, and on either side of the dining room, square tables accommodated two or could be pushed away from the wall and seat four. Longer tables down the middle seated six or more, which they’d use as community tables to encourage conversations among the guests. Seating strangers next to one another encouraged people to get to know each other, and he wanted the restaurant to not only be a place where people came to fill their bellies, but came to fill their social wells with conversation and good vibes.
Hanging on the wall was a photo of the Kitchen Love garden, which for now depended on volunteers. Omar had purchased nearby land to grow vegetables and herbs, which the restaurant used to prepare dishes on the menu.
Omar led the way into the kitchen, and his gaze immediately landed on Dana. Her back faced him as she and the chef chatted.
“This is the kitchen, where the magic happens,” he announced.
Cole was the last one through the door. His gaze swept the room, rolling over Dana and then doubling back, a frown creasing his brow.
Omar kept his eyes on his brother as he said, “Much of the produce you see the staff prepping for the meals came from our garden. Right now, we’re only using a portion of the acreage I bought. Eventually, I want to expand and turn the property into a community garden where people in the surrounding neighborhoods can come and get produce in exchange for helping to maintain it.”
Dana ended her conversation and turned to face them, and shock registered on Cole’s face. A mere second later, the smile on hers died, and her eyes widened.
“Dana, what are you doing here?” Cole asked.
“I… what are you doing here?” She appeared perplexed as she moved toward them.
“How do you know my brother?” Omar asked.
“What?” Dana exclaimed. “Your brother?” She looked from one to the other.
“You never told me you knew Omar,” Cole said.
“Would somebody please tell me how the hell the two of you know each other?” Omar asked.
“This… this is Sheldon, the guy I dated…” Dana let the words die on her lips.
Oh damn, Omar thought. His brother was the man Dana had dated, and he never had a clue because she never mentioned his name.
“You said your brother’s name was Cole,” Dana said.
“That’s what we call him,” Omar explained.
“You never told me your younger brother was Omar,” Dana said.
“Guess why not,” Cole said sourly. The time they spent together on the golf course did little to change his jealousy. “Omar and I have different fathers. My father’s first name is Cole, and my middle name is Cole. Close friends and family call me Cole.”
Dana knew he and his brother had different fathers because he told her the story once when he explained about their strained relationship. Cole Reevus was Dorothy’s first husband, but they split after he cheated on her, and she became a young divorcee raising an infant on her own. She met Omar’s father when her son was a couple of years old, and they dated for a while before marrying.
An awkward silence filled the kitchen as Omar and his brother stared at each other.
Even the chatter among the workers quietened down.
“Oh, shit.” Cole clasped his hands together and brought them to his lips, hysterical laughter falling from his lips and lighting up his brown eyes. Turning his attention to Dana, he asked, “Omar is the guy, the friend you dumped me for, right?”
She glanced at Omar, uncertainty on how to answer stamped into her face.
“Let’s step into the dining room,” Omar said casually.
Cole would be angry when he learned the truth, not necessarily because he was in love with Dana—though Omar didn’t doubt he cared about her since she certainly was a good woman—but because he would blame Omar for interfering. Yet another reason for the rift between them to widen. This would not bode well for their already brittle relationship.
“Was it him?” Cole asked Dana.
Omar’s muscles quivered with tension, but he kept his voice neutral. “Let’s go outside.”
Taking Dana’s hand, he led the way into the dining room. The host and hostess were talking and straightening up at the front of the restaurant, but the servers and bussers would be arriving soon.
“Let her answer the question,” Cole snarled, stepping up to Omar. If looks could kill, Omar would be diced into bite-sized pieces.
“Cole, that’s enough,” Dorothy said in a distressed voice. “Tonight is very important for your brother.”
“My brother, the go-getter,” Cole said, his upper lip curling in distaste. “In everything you’ve done over the years, you’ve always given a thousand percent. Everything you did.”
Irritated and unable to hold his tongue anymore because of his brother’s veiled insults, Omar asked, “What are you doing here?”
“Omar, baby, this is your night and you don’t need to get yourself upset,” Dorothy whispered, touching his arm.
“No, he’s right. What am I doing here? It’ll probably come as no surprise to you that mom and Senior didn’t want me to come. They thought it was a bad idea, that I would somehow create a problem on your big night. Why would they think so badly of me?” Without waiting for an answer, Cole moved closer so he and Omar were practically eye to eye. “Were they worried I would see what they didn’t want me to see? You took the woman I cared about away from me.”
“You’re being ridiculous. We didn’t have a clue you and Omar were dating the same woman. You never tell us anything,” Dorothy said.
“In case you didn’t notice, none of us knew you and Dana dated, but a couple of dates don’t make a relationship,” Omar said. “Much as you hate to admit the truth, she was never yours to begin with.”
Standing so close, he smelled liquor on his brother’s breath, which explained the reckless energy emanating from him.
Cole smirked. “No, of course not, because the Almighty stepped in and stole her away.”
In his current mood, Omar might swing on his brother. “If you came here to start shit, I’m not going to stoop to your level. Again, she was never yours, so I didn’t steal her from you.”
Cole’s laughter grated on his nerves. “You’re not the only one who can steal, you know.”
Omar’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell does that mean?”
Cole continued to laugh, louder this time, and sauntered away to one of the small tables. He sat, slouching in the chair, staring at Dana and his family with a negligent air.
“Honey, your guests will be here soon. Concentrate on having a good opening night, okay? Don’t let your brother upset you.” Dorothy patted Omar’s arm and she, Senior, and Athena went to sit with Cole.
Dana took his hand in hers and squeezed. “I know you’re upset right now, but your mom is right,” she said in a low voice. “You have guests coming, including the media. This is a big night.”
He didn’t respond, but a muscle in his jaw tightened as he kept his gaze on his brother.
“Omar, you’ve been planning the opening of Kitchen Love for over two years. I know you’re upset, but you have to smile and act normal, no matter how difficult it is. You don’t have a choice.”
“You have no idea how difficult acting normal will be with him here.”
He snorted and shook his head
, turning his back on his family. Why did he bother trying to fix his relationship with Cole? Nothing he did mattered over the years. So many times he’d tried, to the extent of funding his businesses—all failed endeavors—only to receive the same result. Blame. Rejection.
“You’re right, I don’t know how you feel, but I know you’re hurting.”
“I want this night to be over.”
Dana leaned closer and gazed up at him. “How did you get through rough patches when you played football? Do the same tonight. Push through.”
“Welcome to Kitchen Love!”
Omar and Dana swung toward the front of the restaurant, where the hosts greeted early arrivals. He recognized the couple—the woman was on the city council and her husband ran a nonprofit.
Omar straightened his shoulders and reminded himself of who he was. Dana was right. He’d been through rough patches before—injury, doubt, the loss of his grandmother, and a bunch of other events that sucked the enthusiasm out of playing football.
He always pulled through because he was Omar “Motherfucking” Bradford, and tonight he would do the same.
23
Despite the confrontation between him and his brother, the night was a success with only a few hiccups, all handled promptly by staff and volunteers.
The ice machine broke, but luckily toward the end of the night, so when two volunteers went to a nearby grocery store and bought bags of ice, they were sufficient to last until closing. The restaurant also ran out of ketchup because, Omar learned, the supplier shorted their order, and no one noticed. A quick run to the store and they were fully stocked again.
Because of his experience weeks ago at the restaurant opening he attended with Tracy, Omar overcompensated by having extra staff on hand in case they ran into problems. The extra people made sure the food came out of the kitchen hot and on time and two kitchen supervisors double checked each meal before the servers took them on the trays. They also chipped in to help with food prep when the kitchen became swamped and made sure tables were bussed and cleared off in a timely manner.
The Friend Zone Page 12