The Cost To Play (Slivers of Love) by Oliva Gaines

dinner.  “Excuse me for a second,” he told her as he took off his jacket as well, while walking down the hallway to his bedroom.  Jayne craned her neck to the right to see where he had went, silently praying that he did not return wearing just a smoking jacket and a smile. She did as she saw him do and removed her shoes before stepping onto the carpet.
    Then there was the flush of the commode, the start of the faucet, and seconds thereafter, the man himself returned to the kitchen.  The look on her face amused him. “You thought I was going to come back out in a smoking jacket and some drawstring pants didn’t you?”
    She chuckled a little. “Yeah. I was worried for a minute there.” 
    “I invited you for dinner Jayne,” he told her. He poured a glass of wine for them both and washed the rice for the steamer.
    Jayne, with wine glass in hand, walked around the apartment and was surprised to find that he had three bedrooms. She pointed to the third door, asking his permission.  She lost her breath when she saw it was a full studio, with drawing tables, a sewing machine, a serger, and sketches posted to corkboards.  She wanted to take out her pencils, sit down, and began to draw a masterpiece.  The walls were painted a soft taupe with large cork billboards extending from the ceiling on three of the walls.  The fourth wall was a window, which shone light directly onto the artist table.
    She heard the sizzle of meat, the knife striking the cutting board, and water being run over vegetables through a colander.  Those sounds she knew well. Toshi remained quiet as she went to the second door, once more checking for his approval before opening it.  Inside, she was pleased to see it was a Zen space with nothing more than a slant board, a cd player, and a yoga mat. One wall was painted a soft pink with Japanese cherry blossom appliques on the wall.  The third door was his bedroom. A door that was left slightly ajar from when he left the restroom earlier.
    “So, this is the dragon’s lair, where the damsels are all brought to the slaughter,” she said aloud as she peered inside the room.
    “You do have a flair for the dramatic. You know that right?”
    Jayne didn’t quite know why she was surprised when she looked inside the bedroom, but she was.  It was so basic. It looked as if he had just moved in. He took minimalism to a new level. The queen size bed had a simple red quilt and two large pillows; one of which looked well used.  Jayne figured that was the one he slept on.  The night stands held nothing personal, nor the walls. There was no television or family photos. “Toshi, no TV?”
    “The bedroom is for sleeping, making love, and creating life. I watch TV on the couch.”
    Alarms were buzzing in Jayne’s head as she looked about the place. “So, do you do this often? Cook for women?”  She stopped herself from saying anything more.
    “Actually, you are only the third woman I have brought here. Fourth if you include my mother.”  She watched him dice the eggplant with the skill of a chef.
    Seated at the counter, her eyes ventured to the countertop where he had lined up small bowls in which to serve the dishes he was preparing.
    “Am I the first black woman?” she asked softly, almost speaking the words into the glass.
    “The first one I brought here, yes.” He looked up at her and smiled.
    “I can take that so many ways, Toshi.  I mean did you just move in?” She paused. “What are we talking about here…?”
    He saw no need to be dishonest with her today or any other day. “I have lived here for almost two years.  To answer the question you are trying to find a way to ask me, I have dated black women.”
    “Oh, I see,” she said as she took plates to the dining table.
    “You see what?” He followed behind her with a serving tray with fresh sliced ginger, two rice bowls, and the serving plate of the salmon and vegetables.
    “So, you have a thing for black women.” She almost