by Zaire Crown
This confirmed the suspicion Tuesday had that Danielle was not his real daughter. She was curious to know who the girl was to him and how she wound up in his custody but wasn’t going to press him about it. She wanted to know despite not seeing any strategic advantage in having that information.
“You’re not too comfortable around kids, are you?”
“Huh?” Tuesday had heard him but she was so unprepared for the question that she could think of nothing better than playing deaf.
“Kids!” he said, leaning closer to her over the table. “They make you uncomfortable. I can tell!”
He was doing it again: reading her in a way that nobody besides A.D. had ever been able to do. It wasn’t like she was straight-up fidgeting, trembling, or anything like that, and despite all she’d done to appear relaxed, he peeped it anyway.
“I used to be the same way,” he said, taking a sip from his glass. “In fact, I’ll go so far as to say I actually hated kids. But that was a long time ago.”
“That was you,” she said defensively. “I don’t have any problem with children. I’m cool wit ’em.”
You a goddamned liar! He said it with his smile without actually mouthing the words. “I’ve seen you flinch three times when kids have run past our table. And each time you scoot further into the booth, away from the aisle.”
Tuesday decided to be real with him because he’d already seen enough to know that the atmosphere was bothering her, but she wasn’t going into detail about her OCD. “It’s just kinda crazy in here.” Right when she spoke, three kids in party hats shot by their table screaming. “I guess I’m not used to this level of excitement.”
“I understand,” he said. “I should’ve told you what I had in store. It was wrong for me to just surprise you with all this. I’m sorry I tricked you and made you get all glammed up for nothing.”
Two apologies in one day. Tuesday felt like things were finally starting to get on course with him.
“And for the record, you are killin’ ’em in that dress!”
She smiled. “Finally, a compliment, and only seconds before I blacked out!”
He laughed. “And you didn’t even have to fish for it that time. You see, I’m learning.”
He took one of her hands and met her lime-green eyes with his own black coffee. “But seriously, though, I’m gonna make this up to you, Tabitha. I promise!”
There was something about his promise that made the fine hairs on her arms stand up and sent electricity through her body. Maybe it was the feel of his strong hand clasping hers or the direct way he was staring at her but she started to get that all too familiar warm and wet feeling between her legs. She was already forced to keep her thighs clamped shut due to the length of her minidress but now she had to break eye contact and snatch her hand away or risk ruining her finest pair of satin panties.
Apparently Danielle was not the shy type, because Tuesday noticed that she was now playing in the ball pit with two girls close to her age; she was pleased to see the girl had a talent for making friends. Tuesday had told herself she wasn’t going to ask this, but she needed to talk about something that would take her mind off of jumping onto this nigga’s lap and going buck right here in front of all these kids. “What happened to Dani’s real parents? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Tuesday saw him hesitate and thought that he was about to get back on the same shit he was on at lunch but then he finally opened up. “Dani was my best friend’s daughter. When he died, she didn’t have anybody else so I took her.”
“How did he die?” she blurted out curiously, then caught herself. “Again, if you don’t mind me asking. If I’m being too nosy, just let me know.”
“He got murdered over some dumb shit down in the city!” And again Tuesday could see the same pain in his eyes that he had earlier when talking about his fiancée. Pressing him about this would be like peeling the scab off a wound, so she didn’t dig any deeper into the hows and whys.
“It wasn’t all that long ago, was it?” She asked this in a tone meant to convey sympathy despite the fact she was basically forcing him to talk about a subject she knew he’d rather avoid.
He took a big swallow of his cola then said, “Five years ago in February on the fourteenth.”
Tuesday was surprised that he remembered the exact date. This could only mean that for him the loss was particularly traumatic.
She asked, “So it’s just you and Dani?”
He smiled because he knew that she wasn’t referring to any relatives he may or may not have. “I already told you I’m single.”
She fired back, “Yeah, but you haven’t told me much of anything else.”
He nodded thoughtfully as he took a bite of the pizza that had spent several minutes cooling on his plate, then wiped his hands on a napkin. He downed the last of the pop in his glass then looked back to her.
“Since you think I’m being so secretive, here’s what we’ll do: I’ll answer any five questions you can think up, but—” He raised his hand to emphasize the stipulation. “But only those questions that require yes or no answers.”
She laughed. “And I thought the kids were the only ones playing games tonight!”
“Let me explain the rules. You can ask me any five questions you want that have yes or no answers, but each question costs you something, and with each one the price goes up:
“The first question costs you the last piece of pizza,” he said, pointing to the final slice on the tray between them. “The second question costs you a hug at the end of the night. The third costs you a kiss from those sexy-ass lips.”
“Okay,” Tuesday said, smiling. “I see where this is going.”
“Wait, let me finish because the fourth question has a special price.” He leaned forward over the table and again gave her that direct stare that turned her on. “During our kiss—”
“The kiss that the third question cost me?” she interrupted.
He nodded. “Let’s just say that while I’m kissing those sexy lips, the fourth question allows my hands to roam around and appreciate certain aspects of your anatomy.”
Tuesday smacked her lips because she already knew he was talking about her ass. It was just like the bet she’d made with DelRay. Since she could remember, niggas had always been obsessed with her butt and Tushie was the only other chick she ever met who had gotten more attention than her because of that one body part.
“What about the fifth question?” she asked in a seductive voice. Tuesday was reeled in now and wanted to hear what he had in store for her past the stages of kissing and ass grabbing. “What does the fifth question cost me?”
He was still looking her square in the eyes. “The fifth question costs you the most of all!”
“What?” she asked, curious, unable to look away or even blink.
“The fifth question requires that you do me a special favor. A big one that you can’t say no to.”
“What favor?”
“You’ll find out when the time comes. But like I said, you have to do it regardless of what it is. Do you agree to the rules?”
Tuesday’s mind was deep in the gutter as she tried to imagine what type of freaky sexual favor she might have to perform for Question Five. She hoped it was some real nasty shit. “I agree.”
He sat back and folded his arms. “Go ahead, then, ask me anything.”
Tuesday was flush with things she wanted to ask him but they were either too suspicious:
Are you really Sebastian Caine? Are all the stories people tell about you true?
Or they couldn’t be answered with a simple yes or no:
I know you gotta be rich as fuck even though you ain’t stunting, what the hell did you do with all the money? Where’s the goddamned safe at, nigga?
Any of those questions would immediately kill the mission, so she started with something simple. “First question: Are you from Detroit?”
“Yes.” He picked up the last slice of pizza and sat it next to the
half-eaten one already in front of him.
She started to ask him the second question, then had a thought. “How do I know you ain’t just gone lie to me?”
He placed his hand over his heart. “On my word I’m being straight up.”
For some reason that was enough for Tuesday. Even though they were both pretending to be other people, something in his eyes said that he was going to play the game honestly.
However, just to be certain, Tuesday decided to test him with another question that she already knew the answer to. “Second: Do you and Danielle live somewhere in Romulus?”
“Yes. And I hope you understand that I mean an openmouthed kiss. Ain’t no pecking me on the cheek like you’d do your grandfather.”
She said, “If my grandfather looked like you, he’d probably get a lot more than a peck on the cheek!”
He made a face at her. “Wow! That was kinda nasty, babe.”
They shared a laugh and Tuesday noticed how he called her babe. She liked this because it meant that he was beginning to feel more at ease with her, which would lead to him eventually lowering his guard—and she tried to tell herself that was the only reason she liked it.
Two down. She only had three questions to go and wanted to get something useful that would prove without a doubt that he was really Caine or at least in the game. The only way she could see getting closer to what she wanted lay in finding out about the so-called job he touched on at lunch. He’d alluded to having some type of profession that didn’t require him leaving the house each morning with a suit and briefcase, and as Tushie pointed out, in all their days of watching him they had never seen him go to a place of employment. Yet when she tried to probe deeper into that, he shut her down, claiming it was “complicated to explain.” That had been her first clue, because only secret agents and drug dealers had complicated jobs that they weren’t allowed to talk about. Most hustlers from Detroit used either real estate or being in the construction business as a cover for the lavish lifestyles funded by their illegal money and Tuesday knew he was too clever to use those lame excuses. Just finding out what Marcus pretended to do for a living would be the first step in locating the cash, but he was playing that close to the vest.
“Third question: Do you really have a job?”
He looked at her, disappointed in how she was playing the game. “I already told you earlier that I do. Now you’ve basically wasted your last two questions. First you ask me if I live in Romulus when I told you the day we met I only live six blocks away from the Dairy Queen. Now you blow your third question by asking me something I already told you at lunch. You only have two left, so I’d advise you not to waste them.”
He was right and as Tuesday sat there racking her brain on how to approach her last two questions it occurred to her that she was still limited by the Catch-22. Just asking him straight out would gain her nothing because it was not a yes or no question and if she began to hint about drugs or anything illegal it would put him on to the fact that she knew who he really was. She couldn’t get the information she wanted this way so she decided to switch it up.
“Fourth question: Did you give Dani all the tokens?”
Marcus was expecting another stab at his personal life or profession. He looked at her confused as he pulled a handful of them from his pocket. “No. I didn’t give ’em all to her. I still got a lot.”
Tuesday kept a straight face. “Last question: Are we just gonna sit here all night or are we gonna go have fun too?”
He smiled. “That’s technically not a yes or no question, but I’ll let it slide.”
In time Tuesday stopped feeling so self-conscious about the minidress and was able to ignore all the adult eyes staring at her. They spent another hour and a half playing arcade games and were soon laughing louder and enjoying themselves more than the kids around them. He crushed Tuesday at Skeeball, but she got back when she ran him off the road on some Formula One racing game in which they had to climb inside huge car simulators with steering wheels and pedals.
Tuesday had a ball and the sad part was that she couldn’t remember ever having done anything like this. Her mother had always been too focused on her boyfriends to bring her to a place like this when she was a child. She started dancing at sixteen and was jacking by nineteen, living a life that left no room for carnivals and amusement parks.
They didn’t part at Chuck E. Cheese despite taking separate cars. She followed Marcus back to Romulus and they said their good-byes in the parking lot of the bank where they met up. By that time it was fifteen minutes to ten and an all played-out Danielle was asleep in the back of the Audi.
Standing face to face with him outside their idling sedans, she said, “I really had fun tonight.” And meant it. In fact it wasn’t just the most fun Tuesday had on a date, it was the most fun she’d ever had period and she couldn’t help but realize how pathetic that was.
“Okay, so next time the tokens are on you!” he said, joking.
She laughed. “Don’t forget that promise. You gotta make it up to me for having me waste this dress.”
He slowly spun her around so he could take in how it clung to her body. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see anything being wasted.”
“So when should I expect to hear from you again?” Tuesday usually didn’t press in situations like this, but time was too precious.
Giving her a look, he said, “Not before too long.”
She responded with: “But not soon enough.”
There was a lull between them as each one seemed to be waiting for the other to say something else. After a while, Tuesday reached for her door handle. “Well, good night then.”
When she opened the driver’s door, he instantly pushed it shut. “I know you haven’t already forgot our little arrangement?”
Of course she didn’t forget, but Tuesday didn’t want to stand out there all night waiting for him to make his move, so she did a bit of a pump-fake. “I didn’t think you were serious about that,” she said, being coy.
“Very serious.” He took her into his arms and she draped hers around his neck. “And I always collect what I’m owed.”
Their lips met and after tasting them Tuesday parted hers to invite in his tongue. The kiss was deep, slow, sensual; soulful more than it was erotic. He probed her mouth in lazy circles, not being too forceful, with just enough moisture.
His big strong hands glided up and down her sides, caressing her hourglass curves the way a sculptor would mold potter’s clay. He seemed to be appreciating her womanly form on an aesthetic level and not just groping at the softest parts like most niggas did.
Then the kiss grew in intensity; it became hungrier, more passionate.
He finally had to pull away from her just to catch his breath. “Whoa, hold up!” he said, looking at her surprised and a little concerned. “Let’s take it down a couple notches before we get arrested out here.”
Tuesday nodded, embarrassed that she’d momentarily lost control of herself. Her heart was pounding, her breathing short and fast, her nipples were poking out, and her panties were soaked.
“Yeah, you’re right.” She kept her eyes on her shoes, desperately trying not to look at him.
Marcus peeked through the rear window at Danielle, who was still sound asleep with her head resting against the safety belt. “I guess I better get her home. I probably shouldn’t have done this on a school night, but report cards came out today and she handled her business. I wanted to do something special for her.”
Tuesday smiled, finally able to look at him. “I can tell she’s smart.”
“Too damned smart. Five going on twenty-five. You know what this little girl had the nerve to tell me last week?”
“What?”
He couldn’t even get it out without cracking up. “One morning I was making her breakfast and let some bread burn in the toaster. She actually told me that I need a woman!”
Tuesday’s eyes got big. “You bullshittin’? No, she didn’t.”
&nbs
p; He was still laughing. “Five years old! Can you believe that?”
“Maybe she’s right,” Tuesday said, trying to look seductive again.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe she is.”
There was another kiss, but just a peck on the lips with no tongue. They shared some parting words then left the bank parking lot headed in opposite directions. Tuesday watched his brake lights in her rearview mirror all the way until she lost sight of them around a corner.
Tuesday thought about hitting a U-turn, catching up to him and inviting herself back to his place. She thought about allowing him to put Danielle to bed then spending a few hours getting rammed by that big dick she felt throbbing against her inner thigh.
She didn’t turn back.
Couldn’t.
It was never like this with a mark before and Tuesday told herself that there was nothing special about him. She was just horny.
She thought about all the poor niggas who she’d sent home in the past all rocked up and pissed off because she’d spent the whole night dick-teasing only to shut them down at the last minute. She’d never been on the other end of it before, and even though he hadn’t purposely teased her, she now felt their pain.
A few hours later on the west side of Detroit, Tushie was chilling at her crib with her new friend De’Lano. After spending the entire day together—which included a trip to the mall, running a few errands, and then going bowling—they kicked back for the rest of the evening on her couch watching movies on demand and washing down the Chinese food.
As the credits rolled on the last flick, De’Lano checked his watch, and seeing it was close to one, slipped into his leather coat. When she asked where he was going, De’Lano blamed the hour and claimed he’d already stayed later than he should’ve. So after collecting his phone and keys, he offered her a good-bye hug and started to leave.