Page 12 of The Smoke Hour

“The name’s Kaifiya!” I spat out.

“Spelled…”

“What?”

“How do you spell it?”

“K.A.I.F.I.Y.A. Why?”

“Like Fiya. I like that shit. It fits you perfectly.”

“Whatever. The shoes?”

He smirked. “Describe them.”

“Black patent leather, four-inch stilettos. They have an ankle strap with buckle fastening, and they have an open toe.”

“Square?”

“Yes! You seen them?”

“I might have.”

“Please. Don’t play with me. I just want my shoes.”

“I can get your shoes to you, Fiya. But like everything else, you’ll have to pay for them.”

“I’m not kissing you again.”

“You don’t need to.”

“What is it that you want me to do?”

“Play me for them.”

“Play you? What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded and placed my hands on my hips. This man was getting to me in ways that no man had in quite some time.

“In a game of poker. Earn them back. If you win, you get the Jimmy Choo shoes. If I win, I get another kiss.”

I shook my head. “You’ve got to be shitting me. You’re surrounded by all these beautiful women. Why are you harassing me?”

His face became impassive, and he snarled. “I don’t shit where I eat.”

“That’s a nice way to express how you feel about your staff.”

“I respect these women. Just because they have chosen this industry to put food on their table doesn’t mean that they don’t deserve respect. They can be sitting around me with titties and ass on display, and that doesn’t mean that I’m turned on. I’m not swayed by every pair of tits and ass that I see, sweets.”

“Then why mine?”

“Don’t get it twisted. You’re fine as fuck, but that wasn’t what swayed me. To your point, I can have my selection of women, not just the ones here. So, nah, I wasn’t moved by that shit at all.”

“Then what did move you?”

“Your boldness. How you didn’t blink when I questioned y’all, and you remained impassive the entire time. The passion and the fire that’s within you when I call you on that shit.”

He had peeped the real me and read me like yesterday’s newspaper. But I wasn’t going for it.

“Okay, that’s all nice and well, but I want my shoes.”

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