Page 12 of Rejection Overruled

“That’s the spirit.”

We never talked about that incident again. Nevertheless, I was surprised that she hadn’t retaliated at all. That was unlike her. Now, I knew that even though she would not punch Jamal - I hoped - she’d do anything to make him feel the way she felt fifteen years ago. And the worst part was, I was her accomplice.

Brooke was out to make Jamal pay for his actions and I hated to admit that I was curious about her plans. Something told me that Brooke wasn’t over her crush by a long shot. I knew this because Jamal wasn’t the only man to hurt her and she just let them go.

For instance, her ex-husband was the biggest of all the jerks I knew. I couldn’t stand the guy. He was attractive, a womanizer and all round dick. I always asked myself what Brooke saw in him, but she loved him and that was the most important thing. When he cheated on her, he had the gall to tell the judge he was emotionally deprived of an enjoyable sex life because of her size. Brooke was upset, but not once did she express her wish for revenge. That’s how I figured that she was still crushing on Jamal.

10 - Brooke

The adrenaline rushed through my veins, exhilarated me. I was just as excited about this blind date as I was in college when I drag raced Ron Scullman and won. Sophia had tried talking me out of that race the way she tried talking me out of this revenge date. I didn’t listen then and I wasn’t about to start listening now.

For this date I wore a sexy black dress that parted at the thighs whenever I walked. It would show my firm thighs, maybe too much of it, but it made me feel like a vixen. The neck was high, with a V at the cleavage showing enough of my double D. Fortunately, the dress accentuated my flat belly and tapered waist to make me look stunning, and that’s exactly how I wanted it.

Three and a half inch silver stiletto’s and a silver clutch completed my ensemble. Sophia styled my hair, bringing it up and pinning it atop my head, leaving off curly tendrils, which brushed my nape and cheeks.

“You look gorgeous,” she breathed as we both perused my reflection in the mirror. “I can’t say I agree with what you’re about to do, but go for it. Give it your best shot.”

I hugged her as I ran my routine through my mind. There were two options available. I could either go early and await Jamal, then give him the opportunity to leave, or I show up late and pretend to be shocked and I offer to leave. I opted to arrive early as I anticipated his reaction.

I arrived at the restaurant half an hour early as I knew Jamal was a stickler for time. I figured he’d be there five to ten minutes early so my plan was to beat him to it. I checked out the restaurant that he wasn’t inside. He hadn’t yet arrived, therefore I hung around the foyer and watched the outside. I was there twenty minutes already when he drove up in a silver BMW. The valet took his keys and I observed him straighten his tie and head toward the door.

It was time I started my drama. As he came into the foyer, I opened my purse and moved in his direction, making sure to bump into him.

“I’m sor....,” I started to apologize.

“You?” his eyes widened.

“Are you following me, Mr. Styles?” I asked, scowling at him.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Miss Owens. I’m here on a date.”

I stepped off. “If you’ll excuse me then, I don’t want to be late for my date either.”

Just about then, the Maître D approached us. “Good evening Madam - Monsieur. Do you have a reservation?”

I spoke up before Jamal could. “Yes, I am meeting a Mr. Anonymous. Please tell him his date, Miss Hibiscus is here.”

“What the fu...?” Jamal swore. “You’re Miss Hibiscus?”

I turned sharply to him, my eyes blazing. “I don’t see that’s any of your damn business.”

“Sir?” the Maître D’ addressed him. “Do you have a reservation as well?”

“Yes, I am Mr. Anonymous and I’m supposed to be meeting Miss Hibiscus.”

“Don’t listen to him,” I told the attendant. “He’s lying. This is him trying to ruin my date. Men like him don’t go on blind dates.”

Jamal spoke seriously to the man. “I assure you, this is no joke.”

The Maître D smiled. “Can I escort you both to your table then?”

“Yes,” I said to the man. “I am hungry and not leaving without dinner.”

This was the moment I was waiting for, and my heart raced in anticipation. Would Jamal stay true to himself or would he surprise me? I was expecting him to decline, which was what I wanted. What if he willingly accepted this date, what would I do then? I’d have to change my strategy.

“No!” Bingo! He declined and the ball was now in my court. “I’m not having a date with her.”

“Table for one then,” I said to the Maître D who looked on in confusion. “I knew you were a coward.”

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