Page 28 of The Sweetest Surrender

Chapter Nine

Selena pursed her lips. “Did you break up our moment to come over here and say I told you so?”

Octavia shrugged. “Yeah,” she admitted, chuckling.

Selena shook her head with a leering smirk. “First of all,” she started, “where the hell did they come from?”

Selena turned to find Jordan and Jonathon. They stood at the bar engaged in a separate conversation.

“I told you when we came in here, Jonathon knew we were having drinks tonight.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t say you told him where, when, and what time, girl.”

“What’s the problem? Looks like you and Mr. Googly Eyes are doing just fine.”

“Yeah, after he caught me dancing with somebody else. That just felt deceptive.”

“I tried to stop you. Oh, but no, you wouldn’t listen to little ol’ me.”

“If you had told me there was a chance of them showing up, then I would have listened.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You know why? Because Selena had a chip on her shoulder.” Octavia mocked. “I take it you asked him about Madison.”

When Selena didn’t respond, Octavia let out a heavy sigh. “Tell me you did.”

“Not exactly.”

Octavia’s eyes bucked. “Seriously, Selena, the only way you’ll feel better about what you guys are doing is if you ask the question.”

“I said not exactly,” Selena repeated then huffed. “If you must know—”

“Yes, I must know, as much as you were in my business…” Octavia mumbled.

“God, you are not going to let me live that down, are you?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

Selena sighed. “Okay, I get it, so here goes. We are officially exclusive… I think.”

“Sa-lenaaa,” Octavia groaned.

Selena giggled. “I’m just kidding, seriously. We are.”

Octavia twisted her lips. She peered at Selena as Selena continued to chuckle.

“Seriously,” Selena echoed. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

The overhead lights dimmed as the owner of the club, Ms. Tamara Jenkins,strolled to the microphone in the middle of the stage. She was a sixty-four-year-old spicy woman, with a bob cut hairstyle that was jet black with a single lock of gray driving down the middle. She smiled demurely then spoke through the mic; her throaty voice purring across the room.

“Good evening.”

Everyone responded, “Good evening.”

The woman clasped her hands together. “I want to thank you all for being in attendance tonight. For two hours every Tuesday and Wednesday, we open the mic to any lovers, poets, or the like to get a few words off their chest.” The owner took her eyes around the room. “Is there anybody out there…” she crooned.

Selena pulled her attention back to Octavia just as a small leering smile crept across her lips.

“Don’t even think about it,” Selena said, knowing what Octavia was thinking.

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