Page 2 of Taste The Smoke
Alonzo had heard enough. He folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe watching Pamela lounge on the bed polishing her nails and still wearing the sweats. “Actually, you’re not.” He thought he heard the woman on the phone say something that sounded like, “Oh, shit.”
“Alonzo!” She scrambled off the bed, her eyes wide. “I was just…I chipped my polish and?—”
He held up a hand to stop the lie. “Save it. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but you’ll have to play it with someone else. I’m out.” He turned to walk away, then stopped. “You’re right about one thing, though. Hellwillfreeze over before you see me again.” He pulled out his phone, scrolled to the restaurant’s number and hit the button. “Hello, this is Alonzo Bennett. I have a reservation for seven and would like to cancel it. Thanks.” Next, he blocked her number before pocketing the phone. Pivoting on his heel, he stalked out the way he came.
Pamela ran after him. “Alonzo, wait.”
She tried to latch on to his arm, but he shifted away from her and didn’t stop until he reached his car. Alonzo couldn’t believe what just happened. Was he hurt? No. More like angry and disappointed that a thirty-seven year-old woman who had a banking career would pull that kind of a stunt. As he drove away from the development, it dawned on him that when they met for drinks a couple of weeks ago, she’d been almost fifteen minutes late, citing traffic. Now he had to wonder. Shaking his head, he chuckled. Maybe heshouldstart letting Sonya vet his dates. At forty-one, he had neither the time or inclination to deal with any kind of drama. Sure he wanted the whole wife and kids thing, and had almost made it down the aisle, but life had other plans. He wouldn’t, however, settle for games and foolishness to get it.
Instead of going home, he ended up at a nearby upscale bar and slid onto a barstool.
A bartender materialized within a minute. “What can I get for you, handsome?” she asked.
“Jack on the rocks.”
“You got it.”
While waiting, Alonzo surveyed the large space. The crowd sat at tables, booths, and around the curved marble bar. Music, lively conversation and college basketball enthusiasts all competed to be heard. He picked up a menu and scanned the offerings. The place offered burgers, fries, wings and a few other appetizers. Placing it back in the holder, he glanced up at the three televisions mounted above the bar. March Madness would begin in a couple of weeks and Alonzo usually had his brackets for both men’s and women’s games filled out as soon as the teams were set. But with many athletes opting out after a year, it was anyone’s game, so now he just enjoyed each one. Most times he found the women’s games more dynamic and exciting.
The bartender returned with his drink. “Thanks.” He slid her a bill, picked up the glass and took a sip, letting the smooth, slightly sweet flavor linger on his palate.
Alonzo watched the game for a few minutes before lifting the glass again. He paused halfway to his mouth just as a hostess seated a beautiful woman with flawless sable skin and shoulder length loosely curled hair at a table directly in his line of sight. Her smile and sparkling dark eyes hit him square in the gut. He frowned. After what happened a few minutes ago, the last thing he should be thinking about is a woman, particularly since he saw the hostess leave a second menu on the table. Obviously, the woman was waiting for someone. Giving her one last cursory glance, he went back to the game and his drink. Moments later, his gaze strayed her way again. She had an expression of mild irritation as she checked her watch, then typed something on her phone, before glancing around the busy place and settling back against her chair. “Join the club,” he muttered under his breath,taking another sip of his drink and refocusing his attention on the screen.
No matter how hard he tried, Alonzo couldn’t stop himself from looking again. He realized a good twenty minutes had passed and she still sat alone. A couple of men tried to engage her in conversation and she politely shook her head, then picked up her phone. The scowl that appeared on her face and her agitated movements let him know that she was upset by the caller. A few seconds later, she tossed the phone on the table and dabbed at the corners of her eyes.
He hoped she didn’t start crying. He could never handle seeing a woman cry. She seemed to pull herself together as she picked up the phone again and called someone. The tears started again and made his chest tighten. Downing the rest of his drink, he stood. His protective nature kicked in and he needed to make sure she was okay, then he’d head home.
Kenya Grant couldn’t believe the arrogant jerk she’d agreed to meet for drinks had stood her up. They’d met at a psych conference the that week and he’d been engaging and pursued her for all three days, only to be a no-show. She tried to keep the tears of anger at bay as she talked to her older sister. “He actually said he was too young to be bothered with a disabled woman.”
“He saidwhat? What’s his address? I’ll send Jared to kick his ass.”
She almost laughed. Her brother-in-law wouldn’t hesitate to come to her rescue. “Believe me, sis, I’m so mad right now that I could do it myself.” Because of a back injury, she occasionally needed to use a cane during a flare-up, just as a precaution when she experienced some weakness in her right leg. The last thingshe wanted was to be in public and fall on her butt because her leg gave way, which would hurt her thirty-four year-old pride more than being seen with a cane. “The thing is, he could’ve just canceled before now, instead of having me drive over here.”
“Girl, I don’t know what’s wrong with these men nowadays.”
“I don’t think I can do this again.”
“Hold up, Kenya. I know Gavin…George…”
“Greg.”
“Whatever. I know what that idiot did hurt you, but please don’t go back to closing yourself off again. All men aren’t like him and he who shall remain nameless.”
Kenya closed her eyes and swiped at the lone tear that ran down her cheek. It had taken her a good three years to start dating again and not one of those few guys had been worth the time it took to get dressed. “I don’t know, Phaedra.”
“You’re in a classy bar. I’m sure there are some nice, single guys around.”
“Ugh. Please. Two men have already come up to the table and all but propositioned me without even asking my name. No. I’m done.”
“I hear you, but since you’re there, you should at least have a glass of wine and maybe an appetizer or two.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I should just?—”
“Excuse me, miss. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Kenya forgot to breathe and couldn’t utter one word. Standing next to her table had to be the finest man she’d seen in a long time. She had to crane her neck to stare up at him because he was so tall. Close-cropped hair and beard, whiskey colored brown eyes, all set in a deep bronze face. The slacks and dress shirt he wore couldn’t hide his slim muscular frame.
“Have mercy!” Phaedra said. “Please tell me that the brother looks as good as his voice sounds…like sin and sex all rolled into one.”
