Page 31 of What She Deserves
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Layla stepped into Avery’s Juke Joint on Peachtree Street and cast her gaze around the crowded space. She’d been to the lively spot before, where on weekends a band played funk and blues while guests created a makeshift dance floor in front of the stage. The building used to be a retail store and had been converted into an establishment that served delicious Southern cuisine and strong drinks for an eclectic crowd of professionals.
She felt great after a pampering session at the spa earlier, and she’d misted her face with a rosewater spray Tamika had recently launched. The floral scent was enough to put her in good spirits, but the product had hydrating qualities she’d come to depend on during the skin-drying winter months.
She had a date tonight and having been burned before, sincerely hoped that he looked the same as he did in the photos. She’d matched online with Garrison, who coined himself a world traveler, a good listener, and a great conversationalist. Though she had to question the last part since he’d chosen to meet her here. The loud music wasn’t exactly conducive to conversation and getting to know each other.
Finally she saw him at the bar, a stark white structure that wound in an S-shape along one wall and was crowded with laughing customers who sipped cocktails and in general looked like they were having a great time. Garrison waved to get her attention, and she went over to him.
“You made it,” he said, a wide grin on his face.
They hugged briefly.
He looked almost exactly like his photos. Moderately handsome with dark eyes and skin the color of brown leather. A few gray hairs were sprinkled throughout his low-cut hair, something she hadn’t noticed in the images online.
“I made it.”
They both laughed, and some of her nervousness disappeared.
“I was about to get a drink in case you were late or didn’t show.”
“You thought I might stand you up?”
“Hey, it’s happened before. Online dating isn’t all fun and games.”
“True.” She’d run into a few clods herself, though none had stood her up. They usually ended up being rude, didn’t look like their photos, or were only interested in hooking up. To weed out the players, she’d been clear on her profile that she was searching for a serious relationship, but either these men couldn’t read or they didn’t care.
“This way. The owner is a friend of mine, and I was able to get us a table in the back.”
They bypassed the crowd and went behind a wall that led to a hallway.
“I didn’t realize all this was back here.”
“It’s a pretty big place,” Garrison said.
The back room was quieter and contained five round tables, three already occupied. She and Garrison sat down at a table against the wall. A server came over immediately and took their drink and food orders and then left them alone.
Garrison clasped his hands on the table. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person, and you look exactly like your photos.”
Layla laughed. “I was thinking the same thing about you.”
He chuckled, and then they drifted into an easy conversation that she enjoyed, but she continuously thought about Rashad and how they used to talk for hours on end about everything and nothing. She missed those conversations.
When he’d suggested seeing her tonight, she’d been sorely tempted to cancel with Garrison but reminded herself that she was within her rights to date other people. She should ignore the misplaced guilt that ate at her conscience. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, and Rashad was probably doing the same.
Twirling fettuccine on her fork, she wondered,Has he made plans with someone else?
Pain pierced her chest, and she lifted her wine glass to her lips, giving Garrison a faint smile as he laughed for reasons she had no clue about.
She shouldn’t care what Rashad was doing tonight or who he was doing it with. As long as he wasn’t having sex with them, he could do whatever he wanted. Another slice of pain, sharper this time, cut into her chest and belly.
Layla shook her head and refocused on the man before her. She was looking for a husband, and he might be sitting in front of her, so she at least owed him the courtesy of paying attention.
For the rest of the night, the conversation with Garrison flowed easily, but as they neared the end of the meal, Layla accepted that there wasn’t a spark. He was a nice guy, but the excitement she’d hoped for didn’t exist between them.
“You seem to be in deep thought over there,” he said with a mild smile.
“Do I?” Layla cracked the crust on her crème brûlée and spooned the sweet custard into her mouth.
