Ghetto Love Bird

$900 Wine

"Sorayah," I huff, placing a hand on the front of my head, "lord the child you gave me wants to come back and meet you."

"Sorayah you're leaving all these dirty plates all over the place -"

The door swings open, and Tera walks in with Western.

"What're you doing in a robe still? Doesn't your date start soon?"

I sigh exasperatedly, "Sorayah is giving me a run for my money, please, take her."

I fetch Sorayah from her bedroom where she sat with her sippy cup and tablet and dropped her into Tera's hand.

"How you doing, Western?"

"I'm ight, but obviously not as much as you," Western tilts his head, "I see you making big moves with my boy Romano,"

"Both of you, get out of my house," they chuckle, and I kiss Sorayah's cheek.

"Have fun, baby, behave, and I'll see you later."

She hardly acknowledges me, Barbie dancing on her tablet screen.

"Go head and get ready," Tera scolds, "Roman said he'd pick you up at 8, it’s 7:15.”

“You right,” I kiss Sorayah’s forehead one more time before they leave, and rush into my bathroom.

My mother passes by, mumbling under her breath. I noticed she had my laundry basket in her hands, and I gently took it from her.

“No ma’am, that’s cool, I’ll take care of my laundry, on Sunday, like I usually do.”

She glares at me, and I knew her slow, bitter ass was just gonna use this as fuel whenever she was angry. Claiming that she did my laundry when I didn’t ask.

I took a long shower, tending to every crack and crevice, before rushing into my room. I dry off as fast as I can, prepping my face for makeup, and checking on my wig which was on the mannequin’s head.

I had less than 30 minutes to throw on my wig, finish my makeup, and get dressed. Only for Roman.

I shake my head at the thought and start the process. Once I was satisfied with my face, I applied my setting spray and quickly secured my wig. I chose a simple, long body con with spaghetti straps. I paired it with pretty mid-length heels and a silver chain black channel purse.

After buttering up with cocoa butter, and a small layer of fragranced lotion, I sprayed on my favorite perfume, and let out a breath.

He called at the right moment because as soon as I sat on my bed to wait, I had to stand again.

My stomach danced with butterflies, and my heart echoed in my chest. I have no idea why I felt this nervous. I’ve been on so many dates before, and none made me feel this way. Perhaps because I knew I was out of their league, and doing them a favor, or maybe it was because I wasn’t so into them.

But Roman . . . I can’t deny that there was an attraction.

Once I got outside, he was leaning against his hood, arms crossed.

“Wow,” he mouthed, and I grinned, staring at my heels as I took my time to pad down the stairs, “all of this done just for me?”

“Stop,” I warn him, unable to hide my blush as I approached the car, and he outstretches his hand.

I gingerly take it and let me guide him to his body.

“Wassup, beautiful?”

I giggle softly, biting my lip as I looked up at him.

“You tryna make me drop some bodies?”

“Drop bodies?” I tilt my head at him, my lips pursed as I tried to hold in my smile, “drop bodies for what?”

“Any nigga that look at you too hard, is dead.”

“Roman,” I roll my eyes, shaking my head at him.

“Nah, I’m serious,” his hands trail up and down my back, and we leaned into each other in silence.

“You do look very beautiful, Honey. It’s nothing new that you take care of yourself, but right now? You did a Lil sum’ extra.”

“I did,” I nod, “I put in some effort for you.”

“f**k,” he chuckles, “got a nigga feeling all special and shit.”

We both laugh, and he lowers his head to my lips. He gives me a small peck, staring into my eyes as he pulls away.

“You ready?”

I nod in response, and he slowly lifts himself off the hood, pulling open my door.

“Get your fine ass inside the car,” he says abruptly and I bite the inside of my cheek.

This man was gonna make me f**k him for free, again.

#

Roman brought us to Tru’Mein, a restaurant that literally only serves spaghetti. They were really good though, and even though they weren’t many variations, they were very expensive.

“I have a reservation here,” he tells the woman at the front, as his finger strokes my palm, “It’s under Romano.”

“Ah, yes,” the woman says, pointing at his name, “come with me.”

She smiles at both of us and brings us to a table that was in the middle of the room.

I looked around, and they weren’t booked, but there were quite a few people. Their eyes lingered on us, and it made me a bit uncomfortable.

“What’s the problem?” Roman asks as he turns to pull my chair.

“Oh – nothing,” I reply quickly, “there’s just a lot of people here.”

“Don’t pay them no mind, mamas. We’re here to eat.”

I take a seat, and Roman pushes in my chair gently, before taking a seat of his own.

“What would you like to drink?”

“Maybe we can have a look at the menu first, you think?”

“R-right,” the woman stutters, looking down at the table.

“Take anything you like.”

“I think I can just settle for whine,” I shrug, “I ain’t feeling for anything in particular.”

“A bottle of Latour,” Roman orders.

Whatever the f**k that is.

“Absolutely,” the waitress replies. She disappears, and Roman leans back in his chair, his eyes covered by his thick, long eyelashes.

He tilts his head at me, and I instinctively rub my neck.

“What?”

“Nun,” he smirks, “I just like looking at you.”

“Oh,” I purse my lips, averting my eyes.

“Why? Do I make you nervous, mamas?”

“No,” I lie, “I was just curious.”

“Mhm,” he hums, “tell you what . . . “

His eyes drop to my lips, linger, and then makes their way back to my eyes.

“I keep thinking of you . . . the first time we met.”

“What about it?”

I lean forward, crossing my arms on the table to bring attention to my breasts.

He catches the bait, and grins, “I can tell that you wanna play a game here,”

He licks his lips, shaking his head, “but it’s a game you can’t win.”

“Hmm,” I move my hand back to my neck, but this time, I was sure.

I close my eyes and rub gently as if I was feeling pain. I run my hand from the back of my neck to the front, to the top of my breasts.

“I don’t play games, Roman, games are for children.”

As soon as he was about to reply, the waitress returned with the wine.

“Thank you,” I murmur, and she nods.

“Of course.”

She sets everything on the table, takes our food orders, and leaves us to each other once again.

Roman pours the wine for both him and me.

“Try it,” he encourages.

I tip the glass into my mouth, and I nod.

“It takes . . . like wine – I’m sorry I can’t lie.”

Roman laughs rather loudly, “You know what, that was a $900 bottle.”

My eyebrows furrow immediately in confusion.

“900?” I whisper and he nods.

“I know, I didn’t want to tell you the price before I got your honest reaction.”

“s**t, we should’ve just gotten some box wine and mixed it with coke.”

“That’s the s**t, right?” he confirms, and I nod.

“It is. I’m so sorry you wasted your money on this crap.”

“Eh, money will come back, experiences and memories with you, won’t.”

Roman seemed content with his reply, and honestly, so was I. I smiled in response, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

“So f*****g beautiful.”