Untitled Fiction – Chapter 5

. . . previous


“Shit! I can’t even call her to tell her I’m running late. Not good. Punctuality was another thing he was big on. William had no use for late folk, fashionably or otherwise. She arrived at Café Noir, 20 minutes early on purpose. She wanted to be the first one there so she could calm her nerves. Andre greeted her as she entered and walked her to a table while the violin playing of Regina Carter permeated the air. Sharon looked at her watch. 15 minutes to countdown. Her favorite waiter Maurice came to the table. She pondered what to order while waiting for him to arrive. She decided on a classic Martini – 007 style, shaken not stirred made with gin
not vodka.

Café Noir is one of the hot spots in a revitalized, Midtown Detroit. Diverse crowds are on the scene each night, and the food is to die for. One of the top African American chefs in the country creates meals to satisfy either a gourmet palette or soul food purist. Although she ordered a Martini, typically she leaned towards a selection from their wine cellar; however, tonight called for something with a bit more heft. The place reminded her of the pictures she’d seen and stories heard about the lounges from back in the day where her parents and grandparents used to hang out on Hastings Street, Detroit’s Eastside in an area called Black Bottom.

However, for the 21st century it was modern, upscale but comfortable and unpretentious. Ten minutes to countdown. So, what should be her demeanor? She had doubts about this so-called date. She shouldn’t think of it as a date, just a getting-to-know-you session. The first reveal of his persona, other than a crazy man standing in a beauty salon announcing a challenge for a trustworthy woman. Hell, she must be just as crazy. Anyway, Sharon was so tired of the same ol’ guys who talk loudly but carry small sticks, meaning their brains. Maybe, this guy is different. He at least used his imagination, and that was more than she could say for many a man she’d recently met.

Sharon fidgeted with her hair and clothes. Broke out the compact mirror to check her makeup and decided to apply a bit more lipstick. She didn’t want to look made-up but just highlight her features in a way that looked like she didn’t spend much time doing so. Was he coming at all? Was she going to end up feeling foolish by thinking this was actually about to happen? Midway through her last sip, she looked up from her glass towards the entrance and there he stood. For a few seconds, Sharon didn’t know whether she would quickly swallow or spit everywhere.


. . . next

You may also like