Page 25 of Body Language
I felt that shit in my bones. Not just the way she said it, but the fact that she meant it. No thirst. No flinch. She was holding her own, and she knew she was the one with the power in this exchange.
I nodded once, that grin creeping up slow.
“MissCommunication, huh?”
She stood tall again and didn’t blink.
I rubbed my beard, eyes still locked on hers.
“Aight. I can respect that. I like a woman who makes a man work for his answers… especially when he’s got the money to keep asking.”
She didn’t have to respond because that smirk of hers told me everything.
“You got time to sit somewhere and talk?” I asked.
She tilted her head, thinking. Then she slid her hand under her chin, like she was weighing the pros and cons.
“Hmm,” she said, lips curling just a little. “Let me think about it…”
A dramatic pause.
“Probably not.”
I blinked. “Damn.”
“I don’t know you,” she added, shoulder shrugging. “You could be anybody and could do anything to me. So until I know you a little better, we can only speak outside, in the open, with my gun close enough to shoot you if you try me.”
I couldn’t even be mad at it. That was the sexiest shutdown I ever got in my life.
“Shit,” I chuckled, rubbing my chin, “I was hoping for a different response…”
Then I looked her right in the eyes.
“…but I like that one even more.”
A woman like that didn’t just walk home with any rich man who whispered something sweet. She was smart and cautious.
She reached into the side of her bag and pulled out a small black card with no name, no number, just a QR code on it. She handed it to me.
“What’s this? A booking card?”
She laughed.
I held it up and shook my head. “I ain’t tryna book you for a party or no private dance, MissCommunication.”
I stepped a little closer, lowering my voice just enough.
“I’m tryna spend some time with you. That’s it. I seen how you dance… Now I wanna see how you think.”
She smiled big and just when I thought I might’ve been saying the right shit for once, the back door busted open like the SWAT team had just pulled up.
“Baaaby!” Arlette slurred, stumbling out with a hand over her chest like she was shocked to see me outside. “I been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing out here?”
She made her way toward me, wobbling like a toddler in church shoes. “I’m so drunk. The bartender had me taking shots to celebrate. Are you ready to go home?”
I didn’t even get to answer cursing her ass out. MissCommunication took one look at the whole performance and laughed.
She tilted her head at me, eyes still full of fire.
