Page 8 of Isn't She Lucky
“Ms. Gardner,” I hear in a low, deep timbre. That’s how I wrote my name on the paperwork when I signed up for this, because I didn’t want to get all first-name-basis with nobody. I wanted to go to this dinner and go on about my merry way. But that heffa,fate, threw a wrench in those plans real quick, didn’t she?
I turn around to greet him and watch a smile grow on his face.
“Wow,” he says. “It’s—it’s really you.”
“Yep, it’s me. Surprise,” I say, flailing my arms wide.
His arms wrap around me. Squeezes me. Holds me captive between biceps and pectorals. He embraces me like I’m his lost lover and we just reunited.
Amazing.
I feel warm and toasty in his embrace as if it does something to resurrect me to life again. To add color to my otherwise dull, uneventful world. It’s like a hot towel after a cold shower. A warm coat in the winter. I was always comfortable with Kasim in the past, but how did that stand the test of time? Of fourteen long years?
“It’s so good to see you, Giada,” he tells me in that unfamiliar deep voice I’m not used to. He takes a step back to look me up and down. It’s only fair, I surmise, because I’ve already checked him out. Thoroughly. I’ve inspected his walk, the creases in the corners of his eyes when he smiles, and the way his eyes brighten when he makes contact with mine. I’m sure I’ll do a little more secret investigative work after we sit down.
“Giada, you look stunning.”
“Oh, please,” I say, not knowing how to take a compliment from anyone, let alone a man as gorgeous as him. “I pulled this dress from the back of my closet. Bought it from the Goodwill Outlet like five years ago.”
Dang girl. You didn’t have to tell him all that! A simple ‘thank you’ would’ve sufficed. Yeah. It would have. At least I didn’t tell him it’s the same dress I wore to my grandma’s funeral.
He tells the maître D our reserved table is under his name, and she quickly shows us to it. He gestures for me to go ahead of him and though nervous, I proceed. The thing I like about this situation the most is that all the bachelors from the auction are here with their dates, so no one feels uncomfortable. Diedra is somewhere here with Wakanda, and I’m sure when we leave, we’ll exchange highlights from our night out.
Still, I feel discomfort lingering in the air surrounding me. If I’m being honest. I don’t knowthisversion of Kasim. I know the sweet boy I used to play cars with when we were eight, race across the yard when we were nine, go camping on the acres of land his family owned when we were ten, and I’m leaving outa host of other things. There were so many days we sat in his room, lost in conversations about life. Doing whatever. Dumb stuff. Fun stuff.Ourstuff. Shoot, he could be a jerk now for all I know. Or maybe life has made him a different person from the person I used to know. Whatever the case, I’m going to find out. I paid a grand for an hour of his time and, according to Diedra, I have to pay for dinner, too. First glance at this menu andthat’sgoing to be about five hundred dollars.
Ugh.
The things I could’ve done with that money…
But it’s fine. Really. It’s fine. Catching up with Kasim should be a good thing – at least I want it to be. I’m clinging to hope – to optimism that this will be a good experience, but my heart is racing faster than my thoughts, and neither is showing any signs of slowing down.
Kasim pulls out my chair.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I settle into my seat and glance over as he takes his.
He says, “Wow. This is unbelievable. I can’t believe it’s you—Giada Gardner.”
“In the flesh,” I say, my eyes settling onto his face. He’s outgrown those teenage looks and I’m somewhat salty I wasn’t around to witness the transformation. His eyes are about the only thing that’s the same. The curly, tapered hair, the well-groomed beard, and the piercing in his left ear are taking some getting used to.
“When I first saw you walk out on stage, I was like, I’ma bid on this guy because my friend had been pressuring me to bid on someone. It wasn’t until you came to the very front of the stage that I knew it was you. I didn’t even know you were still in the area. I thought you’d moved on to bigger and better things.”
“I grew up with more than most people had, so there wasn’t much I wanted to strive for. Plus, it had already been decided that I’d take over the family business, so after college, that’s what I did. I was my father’s right-hand man until my mother fell ill four years ago. It hit him hard, and he wasn’t in the best of health as it was. He died a year ago. Now, it’s just me.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that, Kase—I mean Kasim,” I say, quickly correcting myself. We’re no longer on a nickname basis. He hasn’t called me ‘G’ once, so why would I revert to calling him by his nickname so quickly?
Pull it together, Giada. Be professional about this.
Yes. Professional.
“It’s the cycle of life, right?” he says. “We live. We die.”
He says those words so matter of factly, it catches me off guard. Where’s the hurt, the anger, thelossin his voice? I see something akin to pain in his eyes, but he presented his words in a way that suggests he’s over their deaths, and I wonder why? Is it a man thing – always trying to maintain a tough exterior no matter what, or does it have anything to do with his relationship with his folks? Did they have a falling out that I’m not aware of? I know he used to adore his mother, but his father – he wasn’t around much. Only on the weekends, and he had tofitthem into his schedule.
“So, how have you been, Giada?” he asks, searching my face for answers instead of waiting for a response.
