waited until the women slithered away before she spoke again. “Are you free for dinner this Friday? Say, eight o’clock. We can meet at the restaurant if you’d like.” She opened her clutch purse, pulled out a business card and had started to hand it to him when he politely declined. The smile slid off her face. “No, you’re not free this Friday or no, you don’t want to have dinner with me period?”
“Both.” His eyes smiled, belying his harsh words.
The vacant expression on his face caused self-doubt to take up residence in her mind. Is he for real? she wondered. Ebony pushed for more details. “I don’t understand why you don’t want to go out with me. It’s just dinner.”
Xavier downed the rest of his soda. It was time to bring this conversation to a close. The entertainment portion of the program was set to begin any minute now and he didn’t want to miss anything. His friend Liberty Williams was singing “Amazing Grace” and he just knew she was going to blow the roof off the church. “You seem to be a lovely woman and all, Ms. Garrett, but I can’t go out with you.”
Ebony was stunned by his brusque reply, but her face remained inexpressive. “Why? Are you dating someone? Engaged? Married?” No sense in making the same mistake twice, she thought, checking his left hand. No ring. In fact, aside from his watch, he wore no jewelry at all.
Xavier’s eyes raked the room. This was one of those situations where his bogus wedding band would have come in handy. A few years ago, he had taken to wearing a gold ring on his wedding finger, but it hadn’t been the deterrent he had hoped it would be. Women had descended on him in droves. They slipped business cards into his pocket, scrawled their phone numbers on napkins and told him his wife would never have to know. “No, I’m as single as they come.” Xavier left it at that. He had a feeling that if he said anything else, she might use it against him later.
“Then why won’t you go out with me?” Ebony cringed at the sound of her voice. She sounded desperate, pathetic, needy. Clearing her throat, she took a mouthful of soda and tried again. “What I meant was, what’s the harm in two single, very attractive people going out for dinner?” His eyes twinkled in amusement, which was all the encouragement she needed. Now she knew two things about Xavier Reed: he found her attractive and he thought she was amusing. Both were very good things. “I’m paying, Xavier. It won’t cost you a thing if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“That’s not it.” Xavier chose his words carefully. It wasn’t his style to hurt people’s feelings, but there was no way he was going out with this pushy woman. “I’m an excellent judge of character, Ms. Garrett, and I seriously doubt we’d have anything in common.”
Ebony nailed him with a look. The articulate and well-spoken man had obviously been blessed with good looks, but he was about as warm as an ice-rink. She took a step forward to leave, but the sting of his insult pushed her to ask, “How do you know we have nothing in common when you don’t know anything about me?”
I know you’re aggressive and bad news. Xavier decided to keep his observations to himself. He shrugged one shoulder. “Call it intuition.”
Ebony studied him. Low-cropped hair. Chiseled facial features. Sculptured physique. There was a distinguished almost regal bearing about him. He couldn’t be more than thirty, if that, but he was incredibly serious. Much too serious for a man so young. And handsome. Used to dating sociable, engaging men, not judgmental, ice-cold ones, Ebony quickly concluded that Xavier Reed would bore her to death and she was better off not going anywhere with him.
“Well, it was nice meeting you.” He put his empty glass on the bar, smoothed a hand over his blazer and admonished her to enjoy the rest of her evening. Xavier turned, but was hampered when she coiled a hand around his arm.
Ebony hated rejection. It was an incurable virus that could break someone down. Play with their mind. Taunt them when they least expected it. Xavier Reed might be stern-faced and aloof, but after a few drinks, and some laughs, he’d be putty in her hands. But first, Ebony had to convince him to go out with her. Then, and only then, would she seduce the pants off him. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider?” she purred, batting her eyelashes. “We don’t have to go to A Taste of Venice—we can go anywhere you want. When it comes to things like that I’m not fussy. I’m easy.”
I bet you are, he said to himself. Xavier slapped a smile on his face, in the hopes of screening the irritation he felt. Six years ago, he would have jumped at her offer. Easily swayed by glamorous women oozing sex appeal, he would have taken her out for an expensive meal, worked it off at one of Minneapolis’ trendy nightclubs and then whisked her back to his place for a night she’d never forget. But Xavier wasn’t the man he used to be. Gone were the one-night stands, meaningless relationships and bad-boy ways. Xavier had known it was time to quit playing the field when his closest friends had started dropping like flies.
First, Dominick had moved in with his girlfriend; then commitment-shy Lemar had gone off and gotten himself engaged; and these days, Juan was so consumed with his new lady love, two weeks had passed since they last spoke. The all-boys club had dismantled quicker than a female R&B group. He had lost his boys to women, and although he was happy for them, it made him hanker for a relationship all his own. He was saving up to buy a BMW, but aside from owning a temperamental, banged-up jalopy, every aspect of his life was in order. He owned a three-bedroom home in one of the city’s developing areas; had a substantial amount of money tucked away in low-risk investments; traveled two, sometimes three times a year; cooked, cleaned and washed better than most women and he had no baby mama drama to complicate his life. Returning to graduate school to earn a master’s degree in psychology was a long-range goal, but for right now, he was content being a high school guidance counselor and part-time economics teacher. All he needed was the right woman to complete the picture. He had played the field long enough and at thirty-two he was ready to start a family of his own. Xavier was in a settling-down frame of mind, and the woman clinging to his arm was not “the one.”
I wonder if I’ll ever find Ms. Right, he thought, as his eyes skimmed the banquet hall. Chatting with Ms. Garrett reminded Xavier of why he was still single. The twenty-first-century woman was too assertive, had more game than a rap star and didn’t have the patience to wait for a man to make the first move. She wanted to be in control. Wanted to run the show. Wanted to be the one to wear the pants in the relationship. What happened to the good old days when a man used to ask a woman out? Where are all the traditional women hiding? he wondered. The room was crawling with women. A handful of them were even beautiful enough to strut the runway. But all the ladies who had approached him tonight were of the Ms. Garrett persuasion—pushy, abrasive and eager to engage in carnal pleasures. Sweet, nurturing and modest was more of what Xavier had in mind for a girlfriend. He didn’t want to be with a human doormat, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to be with a woman who crammed her opinions down his throat and called the shots, either.
His eyes returned to Ms. Garrett. She smelled good, she looked good and she sounded good, but he wasn’t going out with her. No matter how hard she pushed. The woman was far too aggressive for his tastes. She had a backside that could rival J-Lo’s, but experience told him women who looked like supermodels—primed to perfection and smelling like a cosmetics counter—usually had the diva attitude to match. And besides, he wasn’t interested in a one-night stand; he was seeking a meaningful, long-term relationship that would eventually end up at the altar.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Garrett, but I can’t.” He freed his arm from her grasp.
“Are you sure?”
He thought, this woman is as persistent as a recurring dream. “Again, it was nice meeting you.” Xavier walked away, without giving her or her offer another thought.
When
