Page 50 of Dreaux: The Corporate Assassin

We left without saying goodbye because we both knew Briley would’ve begged to go with us. Letting the mix of desire and comfortability carry the silence, we arrived at the restaurant Wild had recommended. I was shocked Milly Grove wasn’t riddled with traffic this Friday night because the roads were usually a mess.

Opening the passenger door of the Bentley, I grabbed Denim’s hand as she stepped out. “Dre, I am so hungry, I could eat a cow.”

“I’m hungry for something else, but this steak will do.”

Blushing, she tapped my chest playfully, and I chuckled. In the last two months since I’ve been in Milly Grove, Denim and I had never been flirty. Sexual—absolutely, but kiddish banter never occurred. I was enjoying her company more than I should’ve, and I knew right then I was fucking up.

Once we were seated, I realized Wild’s suggestion might not have been the best one. There was hardly anyone in the restaurant, and the menu wasn't diverse. The wait staff looked presentable and the place looked clean, but something about a fine dining restaurant not being booked on a Friday night didn’t sit right with me.

“Well, I guess I’ll get the lamb,” Denim said, setting the menu on the table.

“Shit, I was thinking the same, but the porterhouse sounds just as good.”

“You get the steak, and I’ll let you have some of my lamb if you share some bites of your steak.”

Using only my eyes to look at Denim, I couldn’t help but smile because she was cheesing. “Bet. What you drinking? And no, you ain’t drinking that cheap shit we had at the auction.”

Denim cracked and covered her mouth to stop the loud cackle threatening to escape. “Dre! The wine wasn’t cheap… I’m just a lightweight.”

“Nah. Gabby said it tasted cheap, and she would know… buying them thousand-dollar bottles for the compound.”

“Thousand dollar bottles of wine? Oh, y’all rich, for real.” We both laughed, and I felt myself no longer worrying about the fact that I was going to have to kill her.

Deciding to force myself to enjoy Denim without worrying about the real shit lingering between us, I reached across the table and grabbed her hand. Rubbing her knuckles with my thumb, I grinned, and her face turned red.

“Denim… I like you. I know I told Bri you were my girlfriend, and while I can’t give you that… I can at least admit that I’m fucking with you. All I ask… is that you… don’t stop wearing dresses that show me how fat that ass is.”

Breaking the serious look on my face, Denim pulled her hand from mine and tossed her napkin at me. We laughed and kept the conversation light, with Briley, Jerome, and Sweets being the highlights. By the time we’d finished eating and got back to her place, she was good and tipsy, so I walked her in, helped her disrobe, and left out of her room. I could’ve gotten her consent to fuck, but the night went too good, and I had taken a break from the mission long enough. Passing Briley’s room, I checked in to ensure she was good. Seeing her asleep with her pink princess gown and the earrings I’d gifted her had my heart winning again. I had to figure out how to execute the original plan without creating too much damage.

I’d never had to think this hard about killing someone. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was struggling because I didn’t want to kill Denim anymore. Did I like her too much now, or was my hesitation for Briley to continue having a mother? Or was I struggling because I knew Denim might be the one I was supposed to settle down with like everybody wanted?

Grunting at the possibility, I left the house and got in my car. I was a killer, and this shit didn’t happen to killers.

Fuck.

* * *

Partof me wanted to pull up on Denim and Briley, but I didn’t want to overstep. I hadn’t seen them the entire weekend, wanting to give them time to do what girls did but also taking the time to get my shit together. I was already doing shit out of the norm with her, and I didn’t want to further complicate things.

Once showered and dressed, I left the penthouse and headed to my office with Denim still heavily on my mind. Against my better judgment, I said fuck it and decided to call her instead.

“I was just thinking about your fine tail. Are you coming to see me today?”

“Jerome, get your muthafuckin’ ass off my line.” I frowned and chuckled. “Where the fuck is my girl?”

Shit. Did I just call her my girl?

“You’re girl, huh?” he asked in an amused tone. “You know… you two need to bite the bullet and stop playing with each other. It’s clear as day that y’all are instrong like. So, what's the problem?”

The problem is Denim and I can never be anything more than what we are. My life is one I don’t plan on changing or slowing down any time soon. Denim’s life is filled with catching niggas going illegal shit because she’s a federal agent, and she’s been lying to me for months about it, so I can’t trust her. I wanted to say all of that so badly, but instead, I sighed deeply into the phone, hoping to annoy Jerome.

“Rome, why do you have my phone?” I heard Denim say in the background. “Who is that?” I could hear rustling and murmurs in the background before it got quiet. “Hello…?”

“What’s up, Lil’ Mama?” I chuckled at her trying to act all timid. “How are you doing today? Why haven’t I heard from you this weekend? How’s my little homie, Big Bri?”

“I’ve been giving you space, Andre. I know how you feel about women being clingy, and I don’t want Bri getting on your nerves.” She sighed heavily. “My daughter is fond of you, and?—”

“From what Jerome says… her mother is too.” I smirked as I continued to whip through town. Traffic was light, and thoughts of shooting to her side of town and just working from there came to mind.

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