Page 26 of Honey's Special Roux

“Smart man. The drinks are only a dollar on Saturdays.”

“Ya feel me. We could pig out if we wanted to and wouldn’t even break the bank.”

“Fa sho, fa sho. Aye, say, man. Y’all wanna sit together?”

I stepped in. “No. I would rather have some alone time with my man. You can see him another time.”

“My lady has spoken. I’ll holla at you another time, fa sho, though.”

Marquise dapped him up one more time before he draped his arm on my shoulder and led me up the path to the restaurant. It only took a few minutes to be seated. Our server gave us menus and said she’d be back shortly.

“Are you getting your usual?” he quizzed as he folded his fingers on top of the table.

“I’m going to get all honey hot this time with a side of fries. How about you?”

“I’m getting the garlic parmesan this time.”

When the server returned, we told her our orders. It took about ten minutes to get our first round of drinks. My frozen watermelon margarita was exactly what I needed after a long day at work. I stirred the straw in the pink drink as I thought about what we could talk about. Unfortunately, more interruptions found us.

“Hey, Marq,” a woman sang in my man’s direction.

She left little to the imagination with the skintight romper she wore. She wore a nice wig, though. She didn’t speak to me as she stood at our table.

Marquise looked her over lazily before drinking more of his drink. “What’s up?”

“You didn’t come by the salon today. We missed you,” she whined.

I bit my tongue to restrain from dog walking her ass outside. Bitches were bold, but they only got the confidence to try me because Marquise didn’t check that shit.

“I had other shit to do,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Boo. Make sure you stop by tomorrow. I got something special for you.”

My blood boiled in my veins. “Bitch, he might not check you, but I will. If you don’t get the fuck away from the table, you and that wig gon’ get split.”

“Excuse me?” She rolled her eyes.

“You heard me. Go play in traffic or something.”

She swayed her hair in my face, and my whole mood changed. I had too much to lose to really get in the trenches with her, so I stood up and walked out of the restaurant.

Fuck the drinks.

Fuck the wings.

I wasn’t in the mood to do shit but put my hands on Marquise. As I paced in front of the car, I could feel the tears burning the rims of my eyes. Marquise liked to be the center of attention. He liked to have women begging to suck his dick. He liked to have men envious of the motion he had.

I leaned against the side of the car and called Jenifer. We didn’t see each other as much anymore, but I still called her to vent when I needed to.

“Hello?” she answered with a yawn.

“Were you sleep?”

“Nah. I’m still at work, just tired. What’s going on?”

“I’m so sick of Marquise.”

“No, you’re not.”

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