The dining room’s ambience grew sexier. Firelight danced up the walls, making resisting him a trial. “I have to go…my dinner plans were severely altered by your rude behavior this evening.” She backed away, touching the chairs as she maneuvered her way through the dining room full of faces watching them. “Don’t worry about me. I’m going home to eat my bagel and drink my cup of tea. Think about that while you’re learning the difference between staring and admiring a woman you don’t know.”
He circled the table separating them to clear the path for her through the crowded room. “Then I insist you allow me to apologize for my actions. Dinner with me at my home. Admiration wasn’t my entire agenda this evening. I wish to speak with you.”
T’kelah gaped at the arrogant, narcissistic man offering to take her home. This had to be a joke. She untucked her sandy brown tresses from her collar and flipped it out down her back. She hooked her purse straps over one shoulder. After buttoning her camel colored cashmere trench coat, T’kelah hurriedly cinched the belt as fast as she could, needing to get out of there.
“I think you have me mistaken for an air head looking for a home for the night.”
Asad approached the table, holding out a white bag with a braided rope handle. “Again, let me call Purple Pony and have a cab outside in five minutes, Ms. Sinclair,” he repeated his earlier offer.
“I’ll escort Ms. Sinclair out, Asad. No need for a cab.”
“You will not.” Who did he think he was? “I don’t know who you are, or how you assumed I needed your assistance, or anything else, but you’re sorely mistaken.” Incensed, T’kelah turned her attention to Asad, who was eyeing Imad distractedly. “You have a good evening, Asad. I’ll see you next week. Keep the fish fresh.”
Asad’s indifference for his cousin confused T’kelah. What was between the two men?
“Ms. Sinclair.” He tipped his head. “Until I have opportunity to serve you again, have a peaceful evening.” Asad made his exit.
Her belt sash flapped from side to side as she left them standing there. Crossing the room down toward the grand staircase leading to the foyer, she waved to the bartender. At the front door, the sound of rain stopped her cold.
“Great.” She dug in her purse taking out her cell. If she called from the front desk, she could run into Imad.
“My car is being brought around. I can give you a lift to wherever you’re rushing off to so hastily.”
T’kelah took a better look at the man under the bright light of the foyer. Her mouth dried, and her words died in her throat. With concerted effort, she swallowed twice to find enough oxygen to exhale then attempted to speak.
As her lips parted, on a thought, they both turned at the sound of a purr. The valet eased a black sports car to the curb. The outside lights under the portico bounced off the shiny hood to reflect the name of the restaurant—Pink Oyster—in the glossy paint job.
“Well, will I have the pleasure of escorting you out or have my pride crushed in front of my special lady?”
Pivoting on her heeled boots, T’kelah darted her glance around the bare foyer to settle on the lone elderly woman. She was on the wrong side of ninety approaching one hundred any day now.
With Imad at her side, T’kelah couldn’t resist twisting to smile up at this...this, flirt using his grandmother to get her to smile. She should’ve been annoyed at his persistence, yet she would have sworn they’d met before today. She felt as if she’d known him intimately from a long time ago. That was disturbing. They’d never met before today.
