Page 73 of Are You Going to Love Me

“I mean, you don’t need to, but if that’s a requirement, I can wait on the couch. I just need to know what time I’m making a reservation for.”

“Bluefin’s accepts the last private dining reservation for 8:30, and you have to have your items preselected.”

“Heard you, what you want?”

“Oh no, Max, you’re the stalker. That’s your job to figure out. Eat up, Stay has you on the clock, and you can’t go to the radio station like that?”

“And why can’t I?”

“Pressure 107.3 records every interview for their JoyTube.”

“Damn we’re not going to make it to Cashmere Lakes and back.”

“I know a spot.”

twenty-six

. . .

Eden stoodin the doorway of the private dressing room and looked at the last fit Maximus put on for her approval. She bit her gloss-covered lip and mused. Something was missing.

“I’ll be right back,” she muttered, pulling herself away from his marvel over designer jeans and knit. The good thing about being an influencer was that Eden had access to people and things at the snap of her fingers. “Hey, Melissa.”

The softness of Eden’s voice grabbed the attention of the saleswoman, who Eden had called for her pieces for years. MUSE was Eden’s best-kept secret. She and Natavia used to frequent a lot before Natavia threw a fit claiming Melissa wasn’t giving them her best things. The truth was Melissa couldn’t stand Natavia and her entitled behavior. When Natavia tried to cancel the exclusive boutique tucked in the heart of Midtown, Eden still showed up twice a month to support.

“What’s up?” Melissa asked, pulling her eyes from a display. “How’s everything going back there?”

“Good. I think that last one is a go, but do you still have any pieces from Diamond? A gold link chain?”

Melissa smirked and raised a brow. “Eden, be real with me, what are you doing with him? I’ve never seen you with a man, and definitely not anyone who has you grinning from ear to ear. I’ve been seeing the blogs too. Give me the tea.”

“The tea is ain’t no tea to give, girl,” Eden spoke, laughing it off while trying to disguise the glint in her eyes. “He’s a good guy, just spending time. That’s it. And we are about to run out of time, so the chain, please.”

“Fine, fine. You know I live my life vicariously through you. Speaking of which, guess who drug her ass in here the other day looking for something you had on,” Melissa strutted away to the velvet box.

“No one but Natavia. You know, now that I’m away from her, I see all the hater shit.”

“All of it. You could bake; she went and got a deal with Sweet Tooth Cookies and Cakes. Now she wants the Jesipi the Don shirt and boots you had on. I told her it came from online, and I never saw it.” Melissa smiled as she pulled the gold chain out. A Cuban link. “Something like this?”

“Exactly that, charge my card for the whole thing. He doesn’t have time to fight with me today,” Eden spoke, as she took the chain from her. Back in the dressing room, Eden detected the low rumble of Maximus’ voice.

“I don’t give a fuck where the nigga is, when you see him, you call me,” Maximus grumbled. “The very minute you see him, this phone better fuckin’ ring, nigga.”

Eden waited by the entrance, appearing to mind her business, pulling the brim of her fitted Waynesville Buccaneers hat lower. Maximus appeared from behind the curtain, spotting Eden, the scowl on his face softened.

“Put this on, we’ve got fifteen minutes to get you to the station. So, we should be going.”

Maximus took the chain and adorned his neck. “You got me spending money?”

“A little bit here and there won’t kill you. And you didn’t pay for this. And before you start talking your shit, we don’t have time. Let’s go.”

“I thought Staysha was bossy,” he muttered, watching Eden circle him, pulling the tags off the shirt and pants. “You something else.”

Eden’s dreamy-like eyes watched him in the mirror. “I’m not bossy.”

“Nah, you right, E. You the boss.”

At the radio station, Eden sat in the corner nearest Staysha, watching how Maximus worked the room. The cool, the swagger, the light he held; all a recipe to have her spinning in the palm of his hand.

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