Smoke and Mirrors (13 page)

“You’re not alone.” She pointed across the street at his ho house.

“Paris, a man can be surrounded by five million damn people and
still
feel deserted…”

She rolled in his words, taking every last one in.

“Why shouldn’t we go out, huh? The worst that could happen is that we can’t fucking stand each other, and end up staying out of each other’s way. No one loses from this.”

They both chuckled. From his cunning eyes, he knew he almost had her; a bit more, and she’d be in his damn palm. She’d made it so damn hard for him, but he broke her down, right to the bone.

“You’d have no worries if you got with me, Ms. Raven. You know why?”

She avoided his stunning, blue gaze, crossed her arms, but couldn’t stop grinning to save her life! Such a dominant man, this guy in front of her, determined yet careful, shrewd and caring all at the same time. What an enigma… Then, she took a chance and looked him in the eye, drowned in his double-crossing beauty.

“Why?”

“Because if we decided it was good for us to get together,” he said, joining his palms, “you’d be the
only
woman in my vision…the
only
woman getting the best from me. The only one I’d see in that way. I’d be blind to the bullshit, but crystal clear for a woman named Paris. I don’t want to visit your heart, I want to move the hell
in
. Now, you go ahead and marinate on that for a minute.”

Without saying another damn word, he turned his back, popped his collar and crossed the street, leaving her there, breathless, angry, concerned, and her panties soaked. His sales pitch went over without a hitch, for her pussy craved that motherfucker like a biscuit desires jam.

What a strange man…and I like the shit out of him!

*

S
moke pitched his
iPhone to and fro between his hands. He wasn’t much a phone person and didn’t enjoy endless chatter, for no specific purpose. He was all about business. His calls consisted of money matters, checking in on his stable when he wasn’t on the premises, and other related matters. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d picked up the phone and called someone simply to shoot the shit…but now, he was seriously contemplating it, especially since he knew without a shadow of a doubt, she’d reached out first. He placed his cell in the palm of his hand, and ran his finger over the screen until he saw her number. Taking a deep breath, he sat back in his mustard yellow, leather chair and waited.

“Hello?”

“Hello Paris, how are you doing?”

The woman hesitated, a short silence followed by a light laugh.

“Smoke, how’d you get my number?”

“How’d you know it was me?” he retorted, derailing the situation before she even got started.

“I know your voice…”

“And you like it, right?” He grinned as he stretched out a bit, and crossed his leg over his thigh.

“Is there something specific you wanted? Like a referral to another neighborhood? A cab ride to the other side of town?” she teased.

“That’s funny … No.” He reached forward and pulled at the material of his pants. “I just wanted to see how your day was going, let you know I’m aware you’re the one who called me from that blocked number, the missed call last night…”

“Oh.” She sounded genuinely surprised. “Well, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but my day is going quite well, actually. Thank you.”

“Okay, I’ll let it go, but we
both
know it was you. As for your day, beautiful…” he said lightly, his smile growing a bit larger. “Are you busy right now? Do you have time for a little talk?”

“…I knew you wanted something,” she simpered.

“I do, but not in the way you think. I just wanted to ask you a few things is all.”

“Like what?”

“Like, what do you enjoy the most, aside from work? What makes you happy? Makes you smile? Since you’re considering going out with me, I think we should get to know each other a bit better, don’t you agree?”

He could tell by her silence she was once again taken aback.

“Well, let’s see. I enjoy reading and—”

“Reading what?” He wanted to know
everything
…

“Well.” She huffed. “I really like romance novels actually. I also like biographies.”

Hmmmm, interesting…

“Let’s see, what else?” she continued. “I like to go jogging, especially in the morning. I also pride myself on having a green thumb. What about you?”

“I used to read more when I had more time. Not into romances, though.”

She gave a slight chuckle.

“I like reading biographies too, actually. Oh, and science fiction. I need to get back into it. I have no interest in gardening. However, I do enjoy working out. I have a room here at the apartment building that is set up like a large gym as well as one in my own residence. A man taking care of himself, in all aspects, is important. I also like to swim but most of all, I love being in the sky.”

“In the sky? Like flying?”

“Yeah.” He uncrossed his legs and ran his palm over his slightly twitching crotch as her voice sang to him on the other line. “I can fly a plane. I’ve taken a lot of classes, clocked a lot of hours. It’s my thing.” He shrugged. “I have an extensive model plane collection; some of them are quite rare. Perhaps sometime I could show it to you…”

“Yeah,
perhaps
you can.” He didn’t miss the sarcasm in her voice as she mocked his choice of words. “You know what I find strange about you, Smoke?”

“What?”

“You speak in three different styles. You speak one way to your girls no doubt, another way when you are in your pimp mode, trying to entice someone, and another way when you are talking to me, like this. You are very Midwestern right now, almost Southern, but with refinement. It is unsettling how you can morph and change like that on a dime…like a chameleon. Some would deem that an untrustworthy characteristic.”

Clearly, the woman had had both the time and inclination to dissect their previous conversation. She took it apart like a surgeon, and had somehow convinced herself he was bullshitting her. Some would say he was back at square one, but he knew better. He was making monumental progress; this was simply her final defense before she opened the floodgates and let his ass inside.

“Well, Paris, that’s one difference between a pimp and a madam. I am a man and will always be one, so I act accordingly. I don’t have to be, how can I say it?”—he trailed a finger over his bottom lip as he sorted his mind like a laundry bin, trying to conjure the right word—“As sensitive as you, you know? I mean, shit, I don’t speak to all women the same, but I speak to everyone with my objective in mind.”

“So you’re playing a role?”

“We all play roles, baby.”

“Exactly…”

They both paused for a moment, then he continued. “But right now, I am just being myself. I’m not in character, okay?” Thoughts of his mother suddenly interrupted his flow, the way the woman would toss on an all-star performance, equipped with tears and the whole nine to get a heart to bleed in her honor, but he dashed away from that, wishing to stay on track.

He raised his hand as if she Paris were standing there. “So, you are seeing a side of me that only very close friends see. My whores know nothing about who you are seeing right now because it would not benefit them, on any level. It’s all about benefits, objectives.”

“And what’s your objective right at this moment, for this phone call?”

“The same one you had when you called me and blocked your number first.”

They swam inside the sea of a long pause.

“Okay, I did call you,” she finally admitted.

“I know you did, and as clear as I made my objective to you previously, I don’t mind doing it once more, but I know you remember it to the letter. Now repeat it back to me…” He smirked.

“You are something else, Smoke.” She laughed lightly.

“Come on, let me hear it.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“You know what I want you to say. Don’t play games… Now
say
it.”

“To get to know me…”

“Was that so hard?”

“Yes.”

Sensing the smile in her voice, he chuckled. “Your resistance to me has waned I see, though you still try to play the game a bit.” He gripped the shiny paw of the chair’s arm, traced it leisurely with his fingers. “I think you are starting to like me, starting to wonder. I think, Paris, that you wouldn’t mind a new friend in your life. You’ve made me work hard, baby… I paid the price, now I’m ready for my prize.”

“Prize, huh? And you think I want a new friend?” she flirted.

“Yeah…I think you want a new friend, baby.”

“Hmmm, I had no idea you were so perceptive,” she said sardonically, before she burst out laughing.

“We both are…” He briefly glanced down at his shoe before crossing his ankles. “And we both want to know what could happen here. Paris, somewhere in the world, this has already happened before. Somewhere in Thailand, London, India, and our very own country of America even. A man that sold pussy took interest in a woman that
sold
pussy. I’m not talking about the pimp and prostitute relationships—we know that happens far more than people admit; your parents were proof of that. No, I am talking about two businesspeople who don’t sell their own asses, at least not anymore, getting together for more than just a cup of coffee. Can you get with that?”

She paused for a moment. “I can,” she said in a low tone.

“I thought you could. Now, I won’t hold you any longer Pussycat, but before we go, I wanted to ask you something else. You may as well tell me, not force me to look it up.”

“Smoke, you are rattling my damn nerves.”

He burst out laughing. That was something his mother used to tell him as a child, but it sounded great coming out of Paris’ mouth, like slow moving liquor over ice.

“What is it?” she questioned.

“When is your birthday?”

“September 7
^th
.”

“Alright, I’ll make a note of that.”

“What for? Will you surprise me and make my day by vanishing like…well, smoke?”

They both burst out laughing.

“You know you don’t want me to leave you alone, baby, so you can pause with that…”

“…You’re right. I don’t want you to stop, I…like it… I like
you
.”

“Beautiful. I like you, too…a whole fucking lot. Keep enjoying your day, gorgeous. I’ll be in touch.” And he disconnected the phone call…

*