by Nako
“Because I don’t feel it, Porter. Where are the butterflies? Do you even like me? Are we attracted to each other?” she wondered.
“Kim, are you serious right now? Am I attracted to you? You’re the prettiest woman on the planet.”
“That’s physical. We need more than that. Our good looks ain’t bringing us happiness, Porter.” She shook her head, sadly. As she slipped off the fur and stepped out of the Prada pumps. Leaving the material things and him in the foyer alone.
“Regardless of what you think you knew or know; your mother and I were the best of friends.”
Kingston picked up the glass of wine and acted like he was about to sip it before he threw it violently in Porter’s direction. It splashed against his button down then landed on the floor, shattering into pieces.
A look of anger swept over his face. It wouldn’t be their first physical altercation and he really didn’t want to take it there with this lil nigga today.
Porter promised Kim the last time he punched him for being disrespectful, he wouldn’t put his hands on him again. Kingston had called the police and P was arrested. It was horrible.
“I wish it was you on that plane,” he admitted, angrily.
Ported dabbed his shirt with the palm of his hand, trying his hardest to keep his cool.
“Kingston, I do too.”
He wasn’t buying it. “Man, fuck you.”
It was time for him to leave. This conversation wasn’t going anywhere. They’d never make progress as long as he blamed him for every single thing.
“Good seeing you, son,” he bid his farewell.
“Bruh, don’t ever call me that in your life. You’re not a father, nigga. Never was one to me or my sisters,” he spat, jumping to his feet.
Before P caught a charge, he left the room. Leaving Kingston to tear up the place.
He sent a text to Jillian, “Let Giselle know that whatever damages Kingston is responsible for to bill it to me.”
She texted back immediately, “In labor.”
Porter didn’t respond, he would make it his business to stop by the hospital first thing in the morning. He kept having to remind himself that she wasn’t his person anymore.
He called Yara before stepping on the elevator to have her pass the word to Giselle. Porter was short in conversation, so she knew not to ask him anything.
“I’m on it,” she said, and they ended the call.
When he made it to the car, his energy was different.
“Closure is bullshit.” He looked out the window up to City Winery where he saw her spawn mean-mugging him.
Juice shook his head. “It gotta be two willing parties, boss.”
P agreed with him there. Kingston hated him, that wasn’t changing, and he accepted that years ago.
“Happy Birthday baby,” he mumbled under his breath.
η
When she saw that truck pull up, she knew it was him before he even stepped out. Mahogany held her breath, nervously. Every other minute, she was looking up to see when he was going to get out. As always, he took his precious little time. It had been weeks since she last picked up the phone for him and honestly, thought that he had forgot about her. Clearly, he hadn’t. She was sort of flattered.
When he did finally enter the establishment, she tried to act as if she was busy.
“Table for one, please?” he asked, so much modesty in his tone.
His voice was low, barely audible and almost weak. He didn’t sound like the man she crushed on. When their eyes connected, she saw that his held no power. They were red.
Had he been crying?
Mahogany tilted her head to the back, noting, “That’s my section.”
He mozied along and took a seat.
She finished up what she was doing and then took him a menu and a glass of water with two lemons.
“Salmon Caesar?”
“But with vinaigrette-”
“I got you, P.”
She went to put the order in and came back with silverware and napkins.
Before she could leave him again, he grabbed her arm and forced her to sit down beside him.
She gritted her teeth, “I am at work.” Mahogany couldn’t afford to lose this job.
“I don’t care. Why did you leave me?” His heart was aching. He was a nigga deep in his feelings.
She sighed “I’m not who you think I am,” she admitted.
“You never gave me the chance to get to know you. I don’t need you to make that decision for me. I’ve got enough people thinking that they know me…I don’t need you to do that too.”
She went to say something else to refute what he was telling her.
He shook his head and put his finger on her lips. “Tell me, okay Porter.”
He didn’t want to hear anything else.
Mahogany eyed him, but did as he requested. “Okay.”
“Can you get my salad to go?” He didn’t have an appetite.
“You not hungry? You’re going to leave?” Five minutes had yet to pass before he was ready to slide. She hadn’t seen him in forever and wanted to at least get to the story behind his saddened eyes.
He nodded his head. “Yeah, can you get off?” He needed her tonight. No more waiting.
“I need the hours. Where will you be around eleven?”
Porter wanted to tell her that he’ll pay her double for her time, but knew that she would be easily offended.
“I’ll get a room.”
She shook her head. “You keep saying you want to be with me, yet this is the second time you’ll be taking me to a hotel. How do you think that makes me feel?” Mahogany was only keeping it real with him because the taking it back to the telly thing was so childish. It was important that he could trust her despite what she planned on revealing to him once they talked.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
“Call me when you get off and I’ll send you the address to my home, okay baby?”
Baby…
This man here…weeks had passed, and he still gave her the same fuzzy feeling as if time had always been on their side.
“Order up.”
She went to get his food, but he was already at the door, preparing his exit.
“Bring that salad with you when you come.”
η
She ran home as soon as she clocked out, took a shower, combed her natural hair out that she was slowly starting to embrace and put on something comfortable yet cute. In an oversized pocketbook, she threw in a small toiletry bag, panties and an outfit for tomorrow in case they did brunch.
“Love you, love you.” She kissed her Kareem’s forehead and pulled the comforter up to his neck.
Genesis was in the living room with some chick.
“Use protection please, thanks,” she told them, in all seriousness. “Not raising no more babies.”
Her brother waved her off. “Bye man, enjoy your night.”
Whoever the nigga she was digging must be important because he had never seen her move in and out the house in less than thirty minutes. Genesis hoped that he was a better man than Raheem’s sorry ass. His sister hadn’t smiled in a while since all she did was work. He knew that he needed to get his shit together and start helping her out around the house. Babysitting lil’ man wasn’t enough.
“She’s so pretty to me and I love the way y’all talk,” the Brooklyn brown-skinned gushed.
He got that all the time, but still asked her, “What I sound like boo?”
That Florida twang did something to her. She giggled, “I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”
He picked her up and put her in his lap. “You gon’ make me fall in love with you.”
She stuck her tongue down his throat and he damn near swallowed it as he rubbed her booty.
On the other side of town, Mahogany closely followed her GPS because she didn’t know where she was and wasn’t too fond on driving at night.
“I don’t know why I d
idn’t let you send me a car,” she told him as soon as he picked up her call.
He laughed, “Cus you think you bad and bourgeois. Where are you now?” he had been waiting, impatiently all day.
She checked the phone before telling him, “Twelve minutes away.”
“You got my salad?”
“Yes, do you have alcohol?” She needed to unwind.
“It’s a bar in the lobby. What would you like?”
She hadn’t eaten all day and before she started to drink, she needed to put something on her stomach.
“Do they have food?”
“Yeah, you want to eat? I’ll meet you downstairs then.”
He spent the remainder of the night once he left the diner, catching up on some much-needed sleep.
“Okay.”
Drake’s first album had been in rotation all week and that’s what got her to Mr. Bavay in no time. When she pulled into the circular driveway that housed his place, a man immediately came to her driver side door. She unlocked it, grabbing her purse and overnight bag.
“Ms. Sinclair, welcome to The Peninsula. It is a pleasure to have you.”
This was real nice and shit. “Thank you.” She gave him her best smile as he helped her out of the truck.
Bobby gave her instructions on how to find Mr. Bavay.
“I was told that your guest is in the bar to the right, patiently waiting your arrival.”
Mahogany tugged on her shirt, something she tended to do when she felt uncomfortable. She was now wondering if she should’ve put one of her wigs on. The high bun that she had pulled her natural hair into probably made her look less…important. Although the lobby of the building wasn’t crowded, it damn sure wasn’t empty either. People looked at her and wondered if she was in the right place. At least that’s how they made her feel.
She peered towards the left and searched the bar area for Porter.
He shot an arm in the air, waving his hand and then once she spotted him, he went back to talking to whoever he was on the phone with.
She made her way to him and he pulled her down, so he could kiss her cheek, and then released her. She took the seat across from him and looked at the menu as soon as her butt hit the chair.
“What’s all that stuff?” he asked.
“Clothes in case I spend the night,” she whispered since he was on the phone. He smirked yet kept his comment to himself.
“What are you drinking?” He clearly didn’t care that he had someone on the line.
“Patron and pineapple, light juice.”
Everything on the menu looked good as hell.
“Hmmm…” she said, excitedly.
As he half-listened to his friend talk about the artist that he needed him to manage, he watched her dance in her chair to music that wasn’t playing.
She looked…calm. Perhaps, him sliding through the diner worked out in both of their favors. Had she missed him? Was he a source of joy and good energy as she was for him? Porter had so many questions for her as soon as he wrapped up this damn phone call. In the meantime, he studied her. Closely. Wondering if she was aware of how poetic she appeared when she shredded away all the things that took away from her true beauty.
Her hair…he liked that on her. It was still blonde, but it wasn’t all long and hanging past her ass, giving him the stripper vibes that he wanted to fade.
Baby hairs hung loosely around her hairline and the nape of her neck.
She didn’t have on any makeup. If he never seen her with a lash, pink lipstick, or glitter across her eyelid, he would live for a long time.
Her pearly whites shined brightly as she thanked the bartender for bringing her drink. Porter must have been a regular because she had never gotten a drink that fast. She sipped it and it was strong, how she enjoyed em’.
“You good?” he was ready to dig into her. Mentally and physically.
“Can you finish your conversation and stop being rude?”
Mahogany was good. This place was nice as hell and she was happy to be out and not home, being bored or at work, taking orders and washing dishes.
“Meek, let me holler back later. Bro, I’m starving. My food has arrived…yeah…I got you. Email it to me,” he told him before hanging up.
She knew he rushed his call. “I was fine, you didn’t have to do that for me.”
He sipped his wine before formally greeting her. “Ms. Sinclair, thanks for spending the evening with me. You found something on the menu that you wanted?”
He was so prim and proper with a tad bit of hood and she…loved it. His presence, his appeal, personality, tone, demeanor, charm, and character all wrapped in one made a man that she truly liked and enjoyed being around. Holding on to her smile she nodded her head, “Yes.”
He signaled for the bartender to come back over so they could place their orders and once they were alone again, he beckoned for hand and placed it in his.
“How was your day?”
A man that asked about the simple things was one to be remembered above the rest.
“Long, but no complaints,” she kept it short. “What about yours?”
He massaged her palm, then pulled and flexed her fingers back and forth.
“Uh, it was alright. Today’s my late wife’s birthday…so yeah…” he really didn’t know what to say and she didn’t either.
“Happy Birthday,” was the only thing that she could think of.
He smiled lightly. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Do you miss her?”
Porter sat back, leaving her hand on the table.
“I grieved for her, and of course our kids. But do I miss her? Yes, but not in the way that I should and that’s fucked up. If she was alive right now would we have spent her birthday together? Probably not. So that’s what leaves me in this gloomy ass mood,” he admitted.
“What drink are you on?”
He shook his head. “I’m not drunk, if that’s what you’re planning to imply.”
“You’ve never been this upfront with me...about anything.”
“First time for everything. Plus, I’m done playing games with you.” His orbs landed directly on hers. He expected a response.
She didn’t have one.
“Happy Birthday to your beautiful wife.” She raised her glass and downed the last of it.
They fell into a comfortable silence as they waited on their food to arrive.
“Why did you stop talking to me?”
She turned her head and looked at him. “Did you miss me?” Always asking a question of her own.
He nodded, solemnly.
“What did you miss though?” Mahogany only asked because they hadn’t spent that much time together, but she missed him too and it gave her solace that they were somewhat on the same page in terms of their feelings.
“If I told you, you will call me creepy.”
She countered, “Or… I’ll tell you that I feel the same way.”
His phone vibrated, and he silenced it.
“You’re a really busy guy,” she noted, remembering why she decided to fall back from him in the first place.
They were two different people from two totally different leagues of life. She was still counting pennies and he had millions, probably billions of dollars. For goodness sake, they were sitting in the bar of his place. She lived in the fucking projects.
“A man makes time for what they want, and I’ll always make time for you.”
How was she supposed to keep her cool after he said some shit like that to her? Everything seemed so perfect, the what-ifs, the possibilities…the aura of being happy. It all sounded good, but she refused to think that this was real or that he really wanted her.
“I wonder would you make all this time for me if you knew who I really was.”
Their food arrived, and he was hungry. He grabbed a few fries, but they were so hot that he dropped them immediately.
“Mr. Bavay, the food is piping hot.”
“Yeah, I see that now
.”
Mahogany asked him, “Why me? Like I’m sure it’s hella girls that like you.”
“Girls? I’m a grown ass man,” he scoffed.
“Girls, women, females…whatever P, you know what I’m saying.”
“What if we focused on me and you? I’m not interested in anyone else that’s not you. It’s like you want me to have this starting line-up. There’s no competition, Mahogany. I regret to inform you of this, but-”
She raised her hand. “Don’t get all proper on me. I get it. You fuckin with me.” She rolled her eyes.
She was a trip.
“Eat your food, get your energy up. You’re going to need it.” It sounded as if a growl came from the bottom of his throat, but she chose to believe it was the Patron and not this man making that noise.
They ate rather quickly, both were starving prior to meeting.
After they were done, she looked through her purse for some loose bills. She would at least leave the tip, knowing that he wouldn’t let her pay.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m a waitress, tips are important.”
He picked her money up.
“It’s included in the HOA.”
As if she knew what that was, the look on her face told him that.
“Homeowner’s Association, baby, come on. The bill is taken care of.” He stood up and grabbed her overnight bag.
Mahogany still wanted to leave him something, he was such a good waiter.
“Okay. Well, can you make sure he gets this or at least the valet man?”
Porter took the money and stuffed it into his pocket. He would slide it into her purse later when she wasn’t looking.
“This way.” He guided her past the lobby and to a private elevator that was strictly used for him only. He was the owner of the penthouse suite.
“Why don’t you have a house?” she asked him as he slid a white card for the elevator to open.
“I work too much, I’m constantly in and out. This is better. My cars are housed here. Food. Drinks. My barber isn’t too far away if I need a mobile appointment. In short, I like this place a lot.”
Even in France as a growing boy, his mother had a high-rise. He preferred it over a house.
“Yeah, but when your kids were…here…did y’all have a house?”