Hook'd (7 page)

"Aye yo, boss man!"

She shook away her thoughts.

At the call of his name, Cameron turned his head. He blinked at the sight of her, stopping in midair. He slowly descended and stood on his feet. He grabbed a towel off the nearby chair and wiped his drenched face and upper body. Draping the towel over his neck, he made his way toward her direction.

Her heart raced the closer he neared and she shamed herself, wondering why she was so nervous all of a sudden. She masked it as best she could, standing straight with a lifted chin, fighting her best to ignore the smoldering heat of his lingering stare.

"She said she gotta talk to you," the man said, as Cameron stood before them. "Is it cool?"

"Yeah." He nodded.

The security then turned away and left. 

"Well, ain't this a surprise?" He gripped the towel that draped over his neck with both hands, displaying the beautiful sight of his physique without a care in the world. Frustrated, she fought the urge to look. He knew damn well what he was doing.

She cleared her throat. "I came here to talk business, if you don't mind."

His brow lifted. "Business?"

"Yes."

He gave her a wary look, before nodding. He turned his gaze to his trainer at the corner, "Aye Leo, take thirty!"

The older man nodded, before stepping out of the gym. Leaving them all alone. The sudden nervous energy radiated more potently now as she stood in his presence and she forced herself to focus on the task at hand.

"Wanna head to the office?" he asked.

"No, we're fine right here. It'd only take a minute."

"Alright, hold on." He turned around and grabbed the folded chair nearby. He set it beside her, gesturing her to sit down.

She sat down and he placed another chair before her, doing the same.

"Before we start, I would appreciate it if you put a shirt on. Thank you."

A smirk tugging his lips, he walked to the bench for his shirt. He placed on his fitted V neck T, then turned off the stereo with his remote, silencing the noise.

He slouched in his chair, with his hands folded behind his head, and leg extended forward. "I'm listening."

She shifted in her seat, tempted to drag her chair back a few inches. Goodness. Did he have to sit like that? He sat so close, with his legs open as though he were inviting her in.

When she took notice to the bulge in his shorts, her breath stopped. Was he...?

Oh god.

"So, uh...”She cleared her throat, forcing her gaze away. “I realized that we've gotten off to a bad start. And I was hoping that we could make amends."

He raised a brow once again.

"At the moment, Free the Heart, is sort of going through a bit of...financial trouble right now. Without going into detail, our budget has lowered and we're looking for more funding. I remember in our first meeting, we were going to discuss the sponsorship of your foundation, so I'd like it if we could continue with our initial goal." She opened her bag and pulled out her manila folder, which held a detailed written grant proposal. She handed it to him.

He opened the folder and skimmed the document. Shortly after, he closed the folder. "So, let me get this straight. You still want my foundation to give ya'll money, after you pretty much cursed me out and called me rapist?"

His response took her by surprise.

"Well, I did so after you called me a bitch," she snapped back.

"That's how you were acting."

She blinked, shocked.

"And you were being an arrogant asshole, so I acted accordingly."

"How so? I was being myself.”

"Exactly."

"Wow."

She scoffed, gathering her things. "You know what? Forget I even asked."

She knew this was a mistake. She should’ve known better than to waste her time coming here.

She stood up and turned away.

"I never said I wouldn't do it."

"Don't bother."

"Reese, wait."

With a sigh, she stopped in her tracks.

"Take a seat," he said in a softer tone.

Rolling her eyes, she spun around and sat in the seat.

"I'll do it. But first you gotta do something for me..."

He licked his lips with a sly smile and she frowned when his message became clear.

"No, I'm not sleeping with you."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Relax, baby. I didn't say all that."

"So, what is it?"

"You gotta go on a date with me."

"What?" she said, taken aback.

He leaned back in his initial slouched position.

"You can't be serious"

"Yup," he said coolly.

"So, you're bribing me for a date?"

How pathetic.

He shrugged without a care.

She shook her head, repulsed. She couldn't believe it. She contemplated flipping him the finger and storming right out of there. But then...her organization.

Damnit.

"Fine, I'll go on a date with you." She cringed as those words left her lips. She must've really been desperate. "But one date. That's it."

"Relax, Reese, relax," She mumbled as she cruised the highway.

Tonight, she was meeting up with Cameron for their date. He told her to meet him at De Palma's, a 5 star restaurant in New York City. He obviously was a man with expensive taste. She had heard nothing but great reviews on the restaurant, however the prices of food were enough to burn a hole through her pockets like acid to skin.

She had no idea what to expect tonight. And she had to admit, she was beyond nervous. She couldn't even remember the last time she had been on a date with another man. It had been years. She kept reminding herself, that this was just a business deal. That was it. It wasn't like this was going any further than tonight. She had no interest in Cameron and it would stay that way.

She just hoped tonight wasn't a disaster. Although, she could bet a million bucks that it would be.

She tried to look her best. A black cocktail dress enclothed her physique, accentuating every portion of her shapely curves. Her breasts appeared more plump through her V neckline, revealing just enough cleavage but not too much. The hem of her dress draped right below her knee, drew attention to her mahogany toned legs and the red heels that hugged her feet. The ensemble of her outfit complimented well with her gold drop earrings and neckless, as her neatly styled pixie cut, enriched her classy look.

When she entered the restaurant, she approached the front desk at the entrance as her gaze instantly drifted to her surroundings. The restaurant was...gorgeous. The dimly lit room was built with high gold ceilings, well-furnished floors, each red and gold clothed table adorned with candles and occupied with formally dressed patrons enjoying dinner. Across the room was a bar, as well as an organist playing music on a baby grand piano.

Wow.

"Welcome to De Palma's, table for one?"

Reese shifted her focus to the black haired, Italian man at the desk.

"Uh, no. Actually two, I'm supposed to be meeting somebody here."

He looked down at his tablet. "Your name, ma'am?"

"Sherese Wilson."

He nodded. "Oh, welcome Ms. Wilson. Right this way."

Reese was taken aback by the gorgeous view of the glowing lights of the city from the rooftop. She followed the hostess to the red table, adorned with candle lights and a bottle wine. He pulled out a chair and she thanked him, taking a seat.

"Sir Lewis will be right on this way, ma'am," he told her.

Reese sat there, blown away. She had heard about this place, but she never expected it to be like this. And on a private rooftop, overlooking the beautiful view of Manhattan? Jesus.

Would she be a fool to be so easily impressed?

Yes.

She had to remember who she was dealing with. Cameron was a famous athlete with loads of money. He probably took all of his women to places like these, wining and dining them. She would be foolish to think she was special. She just hoped that he didn't think that she was sleeping with him after this. She didn't care how great this date went.

"Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."

The sudden baritone startled her. She turned her head, to see none other than Cameron himself, approaching the table. Her heart hiked to her throat at the sight of him. A black sleeveless vest was buttoned over his burgundy button up top with a patterned matching tie to complement the attire. The black dress pants he wore and sleek loafers that adorned his feet, only enhanced his appearance. She noticed he had gotten rid of his beard. Instead, he now sported a trimmed goatee, with traces of his shaven five o’ clock shadow surfacing across his jawline and he looked beyond tantalizing.

Shit!

He approached her with an extended hand. Out of curtesy, she placed her hand in his and stood up. His arms enveloped her waist as he pulled her close and without thought, she wrapped her arms around his neck. The sudden whiff of his cologne assailed her senses and she nearly toppled over.  His cologne had a certain masculine scent that she loved on men. Nothing too strong and off putting, nor nothing too sweet. Just enough to draw her in like a hunting lioness to the scent of food, stirring heat in lower regions the more she inhaled his intoxicating scent.

"It's good to see you," he whispered in ear, his silky baritone arousing her with goosebumps. "You look beautiful."

She pulled away, suddenly aware of her body's reaction. "Thanks."

He walked around to this chair, as she sat down in hers.

The waiter, a slender, dark haired man approached their table.

"Welcome to De Palma's, it's a pleasure to be at your service this evening. Can I do the honor of serving you some of our precious
Lois Jadot
wine?" He gestured to the bottle of wine in his hand.

"Please," She nodded.

She suddenly realized she would need some tonight.

He poured some into her glass, before filling Cameron's as well. The waiter then handed them both menus, offering them an appetizer of seared scallop, in which they accepted.

"Have you ever eaten here before?" he asked, when the waiter left the table.

"No, I haven't." She blinked at the high prices on the menu. "And I could see why. These prices are...ridiculous."

$75 for some damn steak?

He snickered. "Yeah, I know. But don't even worry about it. Order whatever you want, I got it."

She paused, her rebuttal at the tip of her tongue. But she held back, deciding not to go there tonight. Well, he was taking her out. Of course he was paying. He better!

In that case, she might as well order the steak then.

When the waiter returned for their order, she decided on the grilled steak with diced corn and lettuce while Cameron ordered the grilled lobster with baked potatoes. The waiter then grabbed their menus and left the table.

"So, how do you like the place?"

She took a sip of her wine. "It's fine, I guess. Typical. But fine."

"Typical?" He raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

"I'm sure you do this with all your women. Eh, a bit cliché but..." She shrugged, placing her glass down.

"Cliché? Wow." He nodded, taking a piece of the scallop.

"I mean there's nothing wrong with it. I'm sure some women would actually love this, but I'm just not impressed."

He smirked. "So what'd you expect, then? A nice yacht on the river? A private jet to the islands?"

"I didn't expect anything."

"Nothing, huh?"

"Nope. You could save all that for the rest of your women who actually fall for this type of stuff."

"What stuff?"

"Your game."

He lifted a brow. "My game?"

"Yes."

"So, that's what you think I'm doing? Running game?" 

"Oh, don't act clueless. You know exactly what I'm talking about. You take women out to these fancy places, you wine and dine them, treat them like they’re oh so special, then you sleep with them."

"Wow."

And that was all he could say, because he knew it was the truth.

"So, who are all these women you speak of? Just curious."

"Do I need to pull up TMZ?" She raised her phone and he smirked, licking his lips.

"So, you think that's what I'm tryna do with you? Wine and dine you, so I could sleep with you?"

"We already know the answer to that."

"And why would you think that?"

"Because you're an athlete."

He laughed softly.

The waiter approached the table with their food and she salivated as the rich aroma teased her senses. She had to admit, she was starving. Before arriving, she could barely conjure up the appetite to eat due to her nervousness, but now that she was here, her stomach bellowed like a growling bear ready to consume whatever that was in its way.

When the waiter walked away, they picked up their utensils to eat.

"So, what does me being an athlete have to do with anything?"

"Oh please, it's in your DNA to sleep around."

He smirked, looking out at the view, giving her the perfect view of his profile. Through the illumination of the candle light, his smooth dark skin glowed like a refined diamond, his skin appearing delicious to touch. That brawny jaw line of his framed perfectly for his facial structure, a specific feature she found herself drawn to. Then there were those lips—

He met her gaze and she blinked away, taking a long sip of her wine.

"You can't believe everything you read," he spoke and licked his lips. "I mean, do I like to enjoy my life? Yeah I'm young, I'm single, why not? But that doesn't mean I'm out here messing with every woman I see. I use my discretion, believe it or not."

"Discretion. Right." She placed her glass down. "So, what about the rape charge?"

He choked on his food.

She scooped the tasty corn in her mouth, watching him as he gathered himself together.

"How many times are you gonna bring that up?" He furrowed his dark brows.

"Until I get the truth."

"I already told you the truth."

"And I'm supposed to believe it?"

"I don't give a fuck what you believe. I already told you what it is."

His response didn't surprise her at all. In fact, she expected it. She kept calm as she continued to eat her food, unmoved by his brewing anger.

"Why're you even on this date with me, then? If I'm a so called, rapist?"

"Because, I'm holding up my end of the deal."

"Then fuck it, we might as well just cut the deal off."

She froze.

"Aye," He raised his hand for the waiter, who stood at the corner.

"Alright fine, fine," she gave in, gritting her teeth. "I won't bring it up."

He gave her a wary stare, before waving off the waiter.

"Look, I didn't bring you here to talk about that. I just wanted us to vibe and have a good time without all that other bullshit. So, how about we just start over," he suggested with a sigh.

"Fine. Fair enough."

"So, tell me about you."

She rolled her eyes at his response.

She really hated this part.

"Look, I'm not good with this whole...dating thing. To be honest, I hate it. So, how about we just skip this whole awkward part with us getting to know each other and just finish our dinner."

The sooner they could end this, the better.

"Wow, you really are bad at this,” he said bluntly.

"I just had some bad experiences in the past," she lowly admitted, cutting pieces of her steak.

"How so?"

"Just years of dealing with men who were a waste of time. I'm at a point in my life where I'm just through with men as a whole."

"Holdup, don't tell me you're going Ellen DeGeneres now."

She stifled a smile, rolling her eyes. "No, I'm not a lesbian."

"I'm just saying...that ain't really a bad look, come to think of it." He rubbed his chin, licking his lips. 

"Shut up."

He chortled, chewing his food. "Maybe, you just haven't found the right man yet.

"As if he exists."

"He just might."

"Oh please, finding a man—no, a good, successful black man is damn near impossible. 75% of them either have a bunch of baby mamas and kids running around that they don't take care of, 24% of them are either in jail or gay. And the 1% that actually are successful, are with white women."

"Wow."

"It's the truth."

"So, where do I fit in that equation?"

"You?" She chuckled bitterly. "Is that even a question? Of course you fit into the 1%. You don't even date black women."

His head jerked. "Says who?"

"Oh please, you know you don't."

"I like all kinds of women."

"So, when's the last time you've been with a black woman? And don't say that Victoria Secrets model you were with, because she doesn't count."

"Who, Farah? She was black."

She rolled her eyes. "Barely. I wouldn't count 25% black, as being black."

He grew quiet with a subtle smile.

"Didn't know you kept up with my love life."

She scoffed. "Please. Don't flatter yourself."

He leaned back, linking his hands behind his head. "Contrary to popular belief, I like all kinds of women. Doesn't matter the race."

"If you say so."

"So, why do you think I pursued you if I'm not into black women?"

"I don't know, you tell me." She placed the steak into her mouth.

"Because, I'm interested."

"You're interested."

"Yeah, I am."

"Interested in me...or what you want from me," she probed.

"What I want from you?"