and Wayne Shorter were slamming. Bill Cosby’s group was the bomb. Gladys Knight turned the show out.”
“Yeah? Now I
really
hate I missed it. I wanted to check out Stanley Clarke and Hugh Masekela. But I had to work.”
I said, “There’s still Pasadena and L.A. and Long Beach.”
He went over the list. He knew the line-up for JVC, knew about the Creole Festival in Lancaster. Knew more than I did.
I said, “Not many young brothers like jazz.”
“I’m not that young. But that depends on how old you are.”
“Okay. How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Twenty-nine. What about you?”
“You’re not supposed to ask a sister her age. Strike one.”
“Didn’t know I was up to bat. How old are you?”
I shifted, smiled some. “Twenty-eight. Strike two.”
Shelby said, “Y’all need to quit.”
We laughed. Mine was nervous. Didn’t last long.
Shelby stayed in the background with this asinine grin on her face, and without another word, knucklehead excused herself to the ladies’ room. She waited for me to tag along. That was my chance to break away, go into the bathroom with my girl, stay awhile, then ease back out and get a table in whatever section of the restaurant he wasn’t sitting in. Maybe even come out of the bathroom and leave.
I didn’t move. Stayed put. Shelby raised a brow. I held on to my growing conversation with the brother. Don’teven know why I did, but I did. Think it was his eyes, maybe that combined with his schoolboy smile. He had a gentle demeanor. Had crept into our space without intruding. Smooth. Smooth wasn’t always good, but he made me laugh. He had manners. And he was flirting with me. Flirting hard, but not aggressively. I knew I could walk away without hassle. Might even make it back to the car without being called a bitch. I just wasn’t sure if I was reciprocating and flirting with him or not.
Maybe I was having fun and just trying to see if I could intimidate him like I did every other brother. Most of the time when I told a brother what I did, said that I was considering going back to become a doctor myself, they digressed from the conversation one way or the other. Showed their shallow sides. Brothers who were weak in the mind and just chasing the behind.
I said, “I’m Debra.”
He said, “I’m Leonard DuBois.”
By the time Shelby came back from the ladies’ room, Leonard and I were in a booth, sitting across from each other, talking about the concerts of the season. He was enchanting. Totally.
Shelby waltzed back with a
Times
in her hand, reading while she strolled. Probably doing that so she wouldn’t make any eye contact. Straight posture. Leading with her chest, loads of feminine power in each stride. I saw other brothers’ attention sway from whatever woman they were talking to and glance at Shelby from the waist down, smile that oh-my-god smile. When they looked up to see her face was just as gorgeous as the rest, a dreamy-eyed gaze said more than they could ever put to words.
Leonard took off his short, yellow-black-gold leather jacket and excused himself to the men’s room to wash his hands. I surprised myself and damn near fell out of my seat trying to look at his mystical skin. That open staring was so unlike me. I’m subtle. His Wings cologne fragrance had tickled my fancy.
Shelby handed me a napkin.
I said, “What’s that for?”
“Wipe your mouth before you drown in your drool.”
“I’m not staring.”
“And Popeye’s not a sailor.”
“Shush your face and stop blocking my view. Nice booty.”
“Don’t matter. You’ll never see it butt-naked on payday.”
“You’re jealous because he’s nice and a gentleman.”
“Give him five minutes to show his true colors. The last thing you need is to have that stupid look in your eyes.”
“What look?”
“That forty-ounce gaze that makes you look higher than a kite.” She yawned. “Let’s raise up before he gets back.”
“We’re
“Yeah? Now I
really
hate I missed it. I wanted to check out Stanley Clarke and Hugh Masekela. But I had to work.”
I said, “There’s still Pasadena and L.A. and Long Beach.”
He went over the list. He knew the line-up for JVC, knew about the Creole Festival in Lancaster. Knew more than I did.
I said, “Not many young brothers like jazz.”
“I’m not that young. But that depends on how old you are.”
“Okay. How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Twenty-nine. What about you?”
“You’re not supposed to ask a sister her age. Strike one.”
“Didn’t know I was up to bat. How old are you?”
I shifted, smiled some. “Twenty-eight. Strike two.”
Shelby said, “Y’all need to quit.”
We laughed. Mine was nervous. Didn’t last long.
Shelby stayed in the background with this asinine grin on her face, and without another word, knucklehead excused herself to the ladies’ room. She waited for me to tag along. That was my chance to break away, go into the bathroom with my girl, stay awhile, then ease back out and get a table in whatever section of the restaurant he wasn’t sitting in. Maybe even come out of the bathroom and leave.
I didn’t move. Stayed put. Shelby raised a brow. I held on to my growing conversation with the brother. Don’teven know why I did, but I did. Think it was his eyes, maybe that combined with his schoolboy smile. He had a gentle demeanor. Had crept into our space without intruding. Smooth. Smooth wasn’t always good, but he made me laugh. He had manners. And he was flirting with me. Flirting hard, but not aggressively. I knew I could walk away without hassle. Might even make it back to the car without being called a bitch. I just wasn’t sure if I was reciprocating and flirting with him or not.
Maybe I was having fun and just trying to see if I could intimidate him like I did every other brother. Most of the time when I told a brother what I did, said that I was considering going back to become a doctor myself, they digressed from the conversation one way or the other. Showed their shallow sides. Brothers who were weak in the mind and just chasing the behind.
I said, “I’m Debra.”
He said, “I’m Leonard DuBois.”
By the time Shelby came back from the ladies’ room, Leonard and I were in a booth, sitting across from each other, talking about the concerts of the season. He was enchanting. Totally.
Shelby waltzed back with a
Times
in her hand, reading while she strolled. Probably doing that so she wouldn’t make any eye contact. Straight posture. Leading with her chest, loads of feminine power in each stride. I saw other brothers’ attention sway from whatever woman they were talking to and glance at Shelby from the waist down, smile that oh-my-god smile. When they looked up to see her face was just as gorgeous as the rest, a dreamy-eyed gaze said more than they could ever put to words.
Leonard took off his short, yellow-black-gold leather jacket and excused himself to the men’s room to wash his hands. I surprised myself and damn near fell out of my seat trying to look at his mystical skin. That open staring was so unlike me. I’m subtle. His Wings cologne fragrance had tickled my fancy.
Shelby handed me a napkin.
I said, “What’s that for?”
“Wipe your mouth before you drown in your drool.”
“I’m not staring.”
“And Popeye’s not a sailor.”
“Shush your face and stop blocking my view. Nice booty.”
“Don’t matter. You’ll never see it butt-naked on payday.”
“You’re jealous because he’s nice and a gentleman.”
“Give him five minutes to show his true colors. The last thing you need is to have that stupid look in your eyes.”
“What look?”
“That forty-ounce gaze that makes you look higher than a kite.” She yawned. “Let’s raise up before he gets back.”
“We’re
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