Rituals for Love (9781476761893) (14 page)

“Okay, now you're being ridiculous.”

“Well, that's what you and Milan are suggesting I need to do with my man. Right?”

“I think we struck a nerve, Milan.”

“You
struck a nerve. Don't rope me into this one.”

“Milan is trying to leave me hanging, but that's all right.” Bria exaggeratedly turned her back to Milan. “I didn't tell you
to do
any of those things. I told you what
I
considered freaky.”

“Well, actually you told her to give up the chocolate starfish.”

Bria shot a look in Milan's direction. “Other than
suggesting
anal sex, I didn't tell her to do anything I had done. How many times have you heard married couples say they try to spice things up after years of marriage and children? All I was saying is that romantic shit is great now, but eventually it's going to get boring, and she's going to have to turn up the heat. Add some excitement. Whatever that may entail.”

“Nolan and I aren't around-the-clock freaks, but every once in a while we switch it up. There needs to be a balance. Nobody's saying you have to be as extreme as Bria—”

“I beg your pardon,” Bria interrupted.

“But try something freaky and new.”

“I'll keep your sage advice in mind when I get married. Until then, I got this, freaks.”

The opening act took the stage. I sipped my wine and enjoyed the R&B sounds, and my time with Bria and Milan. I loved my girls and valued their opinions. However, if there was one thing I knew, it was to not let your friends get too involved in your relationship. My sex life was the bomb with the perfect amount of freakiness to cause an explosion.

I
came in from Central Park wanting to do nothing but relax for the remainder of the evening. A glass of wine was on my nightstand and fabric swatches scattered across the bed. We were planning to customize the furniture in the lounges and treatment rooms at Genesis, and I wanted to narrow down material and color schemes. Cain had already told me that he'd defer to my preferences and would trust my selections. The fabrics I preferred were quite expensive. We were opening an upscale spa, and it had to be reflected in the décor. But I went back and forth over how much to spend. I tabulated roughly how much the fabric would cost. It was thirty percent over what we had estimated. Cain had already cautioned me that it was important this venture come in at budget. I understood and agreed with him, but the fabric I was leaning toward was perfect, and we had to have it.

I had spoken with Cain as soon as I got home. He was working, as he would often do on Sunday evenings. I told him about my day with the girls, asked about his time with his family, and discussed what was on our agendas for the next day. He was meeting the second resident chef, Riley, at his restaurant in the morning. He ended our call abruptly and with a hasty “I love you” because his father was beeping in. I didn't have a chance to respond before he clicked over. It was fine. Cain knew I loved him. It wasn't something
I needed to say all the time, but I made sure to say it regularly. The very first time Cain told me he loved me I didn't say it back. It wasn't because I didn't love him; I was scared that it was too soon. I didn't admit my love until after Cain heard an embellished account from Bryce that we had kissed. Needless to say, when I finally professed my love, Cain doubted that I shared his feelings. Ultimately, I came to the realization that I wouldn't hold back my feelings from Cain. We eventually sorted out the misunderstanding, and there was no doubt that I was in love with my man.

I mindlessly flipped through the swatches. I thought about Milan and Bria inquiring if I planned to marry Cain and whether we'd be able to sustain a spicy sex life. Like Ernest, Cain hadn't asked yet. Was he husband material? Absolutely. Were we getting married? I honestly didn't know, but I hoped we would someday. If anyone asked me when that would be I couldn't answer. I wasn't one for pushing the marriage envelope. Not anymore. I thought Bryce and I were headed to the altar, and our relationship ended up in the cemetery outside the church. My mother wanted me to find a good man, lock him down and get that ring. I used to be on that plan before Cain. I've since had a change of heart. When the time was right, he'd propose. Terrence was a perfect example. I never thought my brother would get married, but Dru came along and he put a ring on it. They hadn't been together for years and years. Terrence popped the question after dating for eleven months. He knew she was the one. If I was the one for Cain, then he would make me his wife. In the meantime, I would continue to enjoy what we shared with one another.

The phone rang and lured me from my musings. I immediately thought Cain was calling back to say a proper goodnight. I glanced at my phone and chuckled. “Hello, Omar.”

“Hey, gorgeous. I hope I'm not calling too late.”

“It's okay. What's up?”

“I've lined up financing for you.”

I sat up. “Really? Who wants to invest?”

“Listen, I have meetings pretty much all day tomorrow. Why don't you come into the city and meet me for dinner. We can discuss all the details then.”

I agreed to meet Omar the next day. We ended our call, and I settled back against the propped up pillows. I fingered the swatches. Thirty percent over estimate wasn't too bad with additional capital in hand. I stared at one of my favorites, the most expensive. Sometimes the things we wanted and loved came at a high price.

H
al had made significant headway since the last time I was on-site. The additional walls were up, new installations to the electrical wiring were underway and the kitchen layout was on point. The guys were working on the floor drain when I passed through to check the progress. I was excited about the entire project, but the kitchen was especially important. I felt the kitchen would be the heart of Genesis. People would come to the spa to recharge and reenergize, but the food created and originated in the kitchen would feed their soul. The menu needed to be perfect. I was still working on my ideas of what I thought would complement our vision for Genesis. The next step was to get in my kitchen at home and simply cook. I would try the recipes out on Cain and Bria. I'd ask Cain if he wanted Jeremiah's input. After all, he was a chef, and I would value his opinion.

I headed into our temporary office and opened my laptop. There was so much to do in advance of our opening. I was searching for suppliers for spa robes, slippers, linens and towels. Everything that was to be worn, wrapped around or laid upon had to be luxurious. Cain had also sent me links to various styles of treatment tables and chairs ranging from massage, facial, electric, ergonomic, tilting, flat, curving—the options were overwhelming. I made appointments to visit two different showrooms and scheduled a custom-furniture
designer to come to Genesis. I researched laundry and cleaning services in the area and made a note to contact the employment agency I typically used to locate and screen potential employees.

My cell phone vibrated and I put the phone on speaker. “You must be extremely busy today.”

“I was hoping you would call and force me to take a break,” Cain replied. “I finally found a minute to reach out to you.”

“I'm glad you did.”

“What have you been up to?”

“Taking care of business for Genesis. Hal and his guys are getting the job done.”

“For what we're paying him, he better be. Am I going to see you tonight for dinner?”

“I don't know, babe. It's already after five, and you know rush hour traffic will be a beast.”

“Why didn't you leave earlier?”

“I had a couple of meetings and then I came into the office, started working, and time got away from me. I figured I'd leave the city a little later.”

“I haven't seen you in a few days. I was looking forward to dinner tonight.”

“You didn't mention it last night.”

“I know; I should have.” He paused. “Maybe I'll just head back to Eden and have dinner with Riley. It could be sort of an informal interview. Jeremiah said he likes what he sees so far, but I need to be sure it's a good fit for Eden2.”

“That sounds like a great idea. Have dinner at Eden with Riley and I'll come by the house later.”

I hung up the phone and was extremely aware that I wasn't completely upfront with Cain. Traffic would be a nightmare at that hour
of the day, but I also needed to be in the city to meet with Omar about the funding for Genesis.

I reached in my purse and took out my compact. I refreshed my lipstick and smoothed the edges of my hair. I packed up my laptop and locked up the office. Hal was giving instructions to the second-shift foreman as I walked through the lobby toward the front door. I bid both men a good evening and headed off to reach Omar for our six o'clock reservation.

•  •  •

O
MAR PULLED OUT MY CHAIR
for me to sit. I looked over my shoulder at him. “Always a gentleman.”

“How could I not be in the presence of a lady,” he said, as he got settled across from me. “Make that a gorgeous lady.”

“Thank you, Omar. You really don't need to compliment me every time you see me.”

“Why shouldn't I? I'm telling the truth.”

“Because we're friends.”

“And friends don't compliment one another? Just accept it in the spirit in which it was intended.”

“What spirit would that be?”

“I'm having dinner with an attractive, intelligent, charming lady. I don't think there's anything wrong with voicing my appreciation.”

“Do you make a habit of complimenting all of your friends
every
time you see them?”

“If you're asking if I go around gratuitously flattering my friends, then no. If you want to know if my flattery is reserved just for you, then you should ask.”

“I'm not asking you that.”

“Why not? It's a simple enough question.”

“You know why not.”

“I think you know we should have been more than friends,” he said pointedly.

“Not that discussion again.” I chuckled.

“Don't laugh.”

“I can't help it, Omar. You're reaching.”

“I met an amazing woman that I wanted to get to know better. It wasn't in the way I had in mind, but I got to know her as a friend. That friendship reaffirmed what I knew all along. She'd be perfect for me.”

“Where's this woman?” I scanned the room, craning my neck from side to side. “Is she joining us?”

“You know I'm talking about you. You're my ideal woman.”

“What makes me the ideal woman—what's the criteria?”

“First and foremost, she has to know how to throw down in the kitchen. You're a chef so you've got that covered.”

I immediately grimaced. “You can't be serious?”

“I'm kidding,” he said, laughing. “That is important but not at the top of my list. My ideal woman is self-confident. She's aware of who she is and comfortable in her own skin. Her energy is inviting and draws people to her. This woman is generous and caring. She's a great communicator but also a good listener. She's witty and has a great sense of humor; she can appreciate a good joke. Sexy as hell in a dress or sweats, heels, or sneakers. Considerate, loving, and family-oriented. Compassionate. She's patient, yet impatient, when she needs to be. My ideal woman knows how to take a stand for what's right. Intelligent. Has an entrepreneurial spirit. Does that sound like someone you know?”

“I'm guessing that question is rhetorical.”

“I didn't intend it to be.”

“I know a few people that fit your description.”

Our waiter finally made an appearance and took our drink orders. As soon as he turned his back to get our drinks, Omar picked up where he left off. “Face it, you fit the criteria.”

“Maybe I do, but you're ignoring the obvious.”

“What's that?”

“I'm in a relationship.”

“Is he your ideal?”

“I would say so, yes.”

“What does the ideal man have going for him in this day and age?”

“I can only tell you what's ideal for me. Every woman has her own criteria. It's a little tough to narrow down because so many things present or become apparent when you're in the moment. I'd have to start with he's honest, trustworthy and sincere. He treats his woman like a lady. The ideal man is a provider, but also a caregiver. He's masculine and yet he knows how to balance that with sensitivity. He can lead without it going to his head. He identifies with gender roles, but understands that times have changed and women's roles have changed along with it. This man makes you feel sexy with a look—doesn't have to utter a word. He takes out the garbage and helps with the dishes. He can appreciate the beauty of other women, but never makes you feel like you aren't the star in the room. The ideal man never forgets the art of wooing his woman.” I paused. “I only mentioned what immediately came to mind. I can go on if you need me to.”

“No, I get it. I'm all of those things.”

“I'm sure you are, Omar.”

“You can't deny I'd be perfect for you.”

“I'm positive Cain wouldn't agree.”

“You think you found Mr. Perfect?”

“He's not perfect; no one is perfect. But he's damn near, and I think he's perfect for me.”

“Cain's a lucky man to have a woman like you.
My
ideal woman.”

I always interpreted Omar's behavior as harmless flirtation. I wanted to be able to add our current conversation to the same harmless category; yet, I wasn't entirely sure if he was joking or serious. When in doubt, redirect the discussion. “You didn't ask me here to talk about women when you could be out enjoying them this evening.”