Page 9 of João
Fuck. Not a couple of minutes with her and already, she had me second-guessing my decision, but nothing would deter me from my goal.
“Gisele, thank you for meeting me here. That smile…beautiful.” I reached out my hand to her and she gently placed her palm on mine. I slowly lifted her hand toward my lips, studying her reaction and waiting for the sign. Her lashes fluttered, and then her brown eyes met my own. She nodded once, and I ghosted my lips over the soft skin of her knuckles. A gasp escaped Gisele, and she sighed as I pressed my mouth firmly on her hand, giving it an open-mouthed kiss. With the type of delicacy she deserved, I slowly let her hand go.
“Thank you, João. Thanks for the invitation.”
“So you’re no longer afraid I’m a psychopath?” I chuckled as I showed her the way, pressing my hand to her lower back. Her warm softness yielded to my gentle steering and I opened the restaurant door for her.
“I don’t know about all that, but I guess I’m living on the edge,” she said with a chuckle.
“Do you often live on the edge?” I asked as I invited her to sit on one of the high chairs in the lobby. Receptive to my every gesture, she demurely sat down as I held the chair for her. We had to wait for additional instructions before starting our experience.
“Not at all. I’m a goody two-shoes through and through.” She smiled as she settled, placing her purse on the table.
“So why now? Why me?” I leaned closer to her, the sight of her shy smile lighting up a place that had been dark for a long time inside me.
“Honestly? I’ve asked the same these past few days after I said yes to your invitation. Not sure. I guess I’m testing the ‘you can meet the man of your dreams in the grocery store’ theory.”
“Man of your dreams, huh?”
Gisele’s eyes widened, realizing what she’d implied, but I placed my hand on hers and she immediately calmed down. I shifted in my seat, ignoring the adrenaline rush at her acquiescence.
“That’s not what?—”
“That’s a’ight, beleza. I hear you loud and clear. You never need to apologize for your wants and needs. Letting me know makes sure I’m on notice. I’m not out here trying to date for fun either, if you were wondering.” I put my cards on the table early. Gisele needed to understand this was not some pretty little date, and I wasn’t one of those niggas out there wasting Black women’s time. If I dated someone, it was because I saw the potential for a solid future. She needed to know that.
Gisele nodded, staring back at me. I settled in to enjoy the view. Nothing stimulated me more than gazing into a woman’s eyes and watching her react to what she saw in mine. Let her see the intelligence, the determination, the calm, the protection, the strength, the vulnerabilities. Let her see it all. Her eyes were a beautiful dark brown with a darker center. She attempted to keep up with my stare, not blinking as I watched her thoughts flit through her mind. Her chest rose and fell under the yellow fabric, her reserved style of dress another glimpse of the woman before me. She squared her shoulders and licked her bottom lip. Then, in slow motion, as if she wanted to ensure I knew what she was doing, she dropped her gaze down to her lap.
Fuck me.
“Hello, diners! We’re about to begin your mystery dining experience. Your waiter will soon come to collect you and escort you to the dining room. Please follow their instructions as you’ll be blindfolded before entering the space. The experience is more enhanced if you’re walking into the unknown. With your server’s assistance, we’ll settle you at your table, and then the experience will begin.
“The dishes can be consumed however you find it best to eat—no rules besides letting your senses guide you and leaving your expectations outside the door. The meal is four courses. If you need to exit the dining room, please raise your hand, and your server will come to assist you.” A tall Black woman stood at the front of the lobby, facing the fifty guests waiting to start.
The distraction was timely; just a few words and we had already veered toward some serious topics. Following the instructions of Brad, our server, we entered the dining room and found our table.
Everything was pitch black; my ears perked up at every small sound around us. A clatter of silverware, a low hum of conversation, and what could only be the servers walking around us kept me focused until I had a good lay of the land of the room, as well as the location of the exit.
“Are you good?” I asked Gisele and heard her pleased sigh when my hand found hers across the table.
“Yes. What made you think of this experience as a first date?”
“Easy to talk without worrying about facial expressions, and we both get to try something new and be on equal, balanced…neutral ground.”
“Do you consider dating to be…unbalanced regarding power?” she asked, somehow honing in on the one thing I wasn’t trying to highlight. I squeezed her hand and she cleared her throat.
“I think this removes any pressure from both of us,” I explained.
“I see. Well, tell me about yourself. But so that I’m fair, you get to ask me a question first.” Her voice rang clear in my ears. I could hear the tone of it and why it was so full of power when she sang.
“Why were you crying in the supermarket?”
A long exhale of warm, minty air caressed my cheek.
“I…I decided to walk away from the church where I was raised. I’m not comfortable in my congregation anymore. So now it’s your turn.”
I chuckled. She kept it vague enough to know I would have a follow-up question. I let her cook for now.
“Ask away. What you wanna know?”
