“You’re lying to me. I fuckin’ hate being lied to, Yas, especially by someone who professes to give a shit about me.” His tone was low, almost a whisper, as if he was saying something inconsequential. He glared at the screen and took a small sip of the beverage.
“Lying to you about what? I did enjoy the opera!”
“About how you feel, Yasmine. This is no longer about the opera. I know you. I don’t have to spend years with ya to know when you’re pissed, upset, worried, excited, horny, hungry, anxious, all that shit. I know you because we fit together. You’re the other piece of me. I understand how you’re made and what you’re made of.” His eyes turned to slits. A chill crept across her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps. “I know how you think. We’re each other’s temptation and balance, too. You mean a lot to me, Yasmine.”
“You mean a lot to me, too, Nix, and to other people as well. You are the shit. I am the shit. We’re good together. I can admit that without choking now.” She winked at him and he offered a tilted smile. “You just draw a lot of attention is all. I’ve told you this before. It’s not so much how you look, though that helps. It is how you carry yourself. I’ve seen how people look at you when we’re together. You fascinate people. You also draw a lot of unhappy stares from a crowd – usually other men.”
She could see he was mulling over her words, dissecting them. She simply hoped his ego was stroked enough to leave her alone. The perfect divergent plan. Though what she said was true, nevertheless.
“Anyone working towards a goal has a hater or two, or fifty, Yasmine. If you don’t have someone who doesn’t like you, you don’t motivate someone to talk shit about you, you don’t compel unhappy people to do something immature or shady simply because you exist and you’re makin’ moves, following your dreams, then you’re not living life right. People comfortable at the bottom never want others to rise up.” She nodded in agreement. “I’m not an angel, and I don’t want to be, angels are probably boring, but I try to at least not cause unnecessary harm to people anymore, ya see? I’m different now. I will defend myself. I will defend people I care about and if that means gettin’ my hands dirty, then fuckin’ so be it – but I’m not that guy out here fuckin’ up for no reason. I speak my fuckin’ mind. You know me now.” He threw up his hands. He drank some wine then set the glass back gently on the table. “I want you. Badly.”
“You know you’ve got me, boy. I think it’s obvious that I’ve caved.” She leaned in and gave him a kiss.
“My focus is not just getting you but keeping you.” She fought a smile. “You’re enough for me. You’ve always been enough.” Her face warmed. “So, back to the original topic…”
“Oh, no…” She fell back on the couch.
“Oh, yeah. You thought you could derail me, get off the hook and onto something else but I know that’s one of your manipulative tricks. Tricks of the Yasmine Trade. Mind-fucking sold separately. Anyway, I asked you when I picked you up tonight if you were okay. You said yes. Lie number one.” He held up a finger. “I figured you’d talk to me at some point. You didn’t. Instead, you wanted to remain in control.”
She huffed and shook her head. There was no way this man would just let it go and worst of all, he must be feeling some sort of betrayal with his over-the-top reaction. But this was Nixon. What did she truly expect? He pulled out a cigar from his case and lit it, then took a drag as he stared at her.
“Something is wrong. tell me. If you don’t, I’m going to ride your ass all night, and not in the way you want me to. I want you to come to me when you’re havin’ a problem. I don’t care how big or small. We’re connected. We’re one. If you’re not right, I’m not right.”
It felt like the weight of the entire world was on her shoulders, forcing her to bend, threatening to break her.
“Well, things got worse, and fast. I tried to speak to Terrell this evening about the situation.”