Page 112 of Rather: The Therapist

“I want a renewal.”

“Damn, we haven’t even gotten down the aisle yet.”

“This isn’t our wedding, Kofi. It’s your family’s wedding. When both of our hearts are in it, we can wed–for us. This one, it’s for them.”

“I’m fucking with that.”

“So, it doesn’t matter much… what I want doesn’t matter much this time. Ask me next time. I’ll have a heap of requests. I’ve been gathering them since I was six.”

“Let me start putting up some paper for that shit now.”

“Please, because it’s going to cost a pretty penny.”

We strolled down the boulevard, conquering two blocks before we reached our destination. The upscale bar was hidden in plain view.

Cassius. The name was written in a neat, curvy script. My eyes adjusted to the low lights. It was a swift, dramatic change from the brightness of the sun.

Kofi wasted little time securing two chairs at the bar. Though I preferred a more private setting, I remained open to the idea of being amongst others in the social setting. For a weekday evening, the bar was near capacity. Almost every chair was taken.

The bubbly bartender with the bone-straight blunt cut that stopped right at her shoulders bounced over to our end of the bar. She placed small napkins in front of us and followed up with glasses of iced water before finally halting.

“What can I get for you two?”

It wasn’t until her gaze lingered on Kofi that I realized she wasn’t fond of his company. A roll of the eyes was enough to let me know the two had history.

“Well,” she retracted, “For you. I’m almost certain I know what he wants.”

Her audacity was appalling.

“This evening, he’s going to tell you again,” I assured her. “I’d hate for you to get too caught up in the past and serve the wrong drink.”

“Unless his preference has changed from three nights ago, I think I’ll be fine, babe.”

I refused to break a sweat or show signs of intimidation. Because, frankly, I was anything but intimidated. Kofi was a free agent and so was I. What and who he did in his free time was none of my concern, but respect was the principle here. Not territory.

“It hasn’t,” I confirmed, though I wasn’t sure what his preferred drink was myself.

“Hailey–” Kofi scoffed, “We’re not doing that, baby girl. Respect. You feel me?”

“Whatever, Kofi.”

Though she was interested in every word that came from his lips, disdain covered her pretty face.

“Fix the fucking drink and your face.”

With a roll of her neck, she turned and headed for the rows of neatly stacked liquor.

“I’ll take a martini. A dirty one.”

She tossed a hand over her shoulder to let me know she’d heard me loud and clear. I watched closely as she began gathering the ingredients. I didn’t want to be the victim of a scorned lover, especially not for a man who I barely knew and cared almost nothing about.

“Is this what I have to look forward to when with you during these ninety days?”

I could hear him suck the skin of his teeth. My eyes never left Hailey.

“That’s nothing, Rather.”

“Does she know that?”

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