The Enclave of Jyme (G Street Chronicles Presents) (19 page)

“I’m sorry if I offended you in some way, but I’ve only had one sex partner. I’ve only had one girlfriend. All this is new to me and I’m trying not mess this up,” I explained. She watched me carefully and nodded. I took my hand off of hers and we headed back to her job. We pulled up in front of her building and I left the truck running. I got out and went over to her side to open her door. I held a hand out and this time she took it. She stepped out of the truck and I knew I had to do or say something. We had such a good time eating sushi and then it just went to shit.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

“May I ask you something?”

“Yes.”

“How old are you?”

I paused for a second. “Twenty-seven.”

“I’m older than you,” she explained.

“So? I’m sure it’s not by much,” I assured her.

“Well, let’s just say, I was in kindergarten when you were born.”

“So what?” I asked with a frown. She better not pull the age card to get out of having dinner with me. She smiled at me.

“See you tonight then.”

I smiled back at her and walked her inside the building and to the elevators. I pressed the button for her and held on to her hand until she was inside of the elevator. A woman got on the elevator with her.

“See you tonight then,” I copied her words. She grinned wide, but this one was genuine, not forced.

I got back into the truck and felt like I was the fucking man. I was all pumped up.

When I reached the condo, the guys were gone. I checked my phone and Kanoke texted that they went for subs up the street. I went and changed into some lounge gear, sat down in my closet chair, and called Patty.

“Hello,” she beamed through the phone.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized.

“I understand. You have your own life and you need your privacy.”

“Nothing is ever too private for you. I just like to make sure all of this is real before I start talking about it.”

“What’s her name?”

“Cricket.”

“What?”

“I’m sure it’s a nickname, but’s that’s all I know for now.”

“No, you know what grandmother says about Crickets.”

I knew what Patty was getting at, but I didn’t want to jinx Cricket and me. My grandmother thought crickets were a sort of good luck charm. She believed that crickets can come in several different shapes and sizes and for Cricket’s name to be Cricket, I was sure she would have a field day with this one.

“I know, I already know,” I breathed. I didn’t even want to admit this to myself, but once I knew her name was Cricket, it was like I’d been drawn to her. I felt like this is where I was supposed to be. All of the past shit was worth it if I got to have her.

“I want to meet her,” Patty said.

“Let me get to know her first. Then I will introduce you to her.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you too, big head,” I teased and hung up.

I couldn’t resist it. I had to hear her voice, even if it was for a minute. I felt like Italian tonight, and I knew a great restaurant; one of Zedd’s favorite. I dialed her number and it rang twice.

“Hello,” she answered in her sweet, breathy voice.

“Italian?” I asked.

“Sure,” and then there was silence for a moment. “Where?” she asked.

“A restaurant called Mondello. What time do you get off?” I asked.

“I start out in the field tomorrow, so I will need to prepare for that. I will just meet you there; let’s say seven,” her pitch was all over the place. I couldn’t pick her mood.

“I
will
pick you up,” I demanded.

“Let me get back with you on the time and the pick-up place.”

“Okay,” I responded. I was confused about what that meant. Then she hung up the phone without bidding a decent farewell.

The guys made it back with subs and chips. I told them everything about what happened. When we were finishing up the subs, I got a text message from Cricket. She sent her address, but she didn’t confirm the time. I just assumed seven o’clock was still good for her, so I had four hours before I needed to start getting ready for our date. I thought about my hair and all the static it had in it this morning. I picked up my phone and dialed the salon number stored there.

“J’adore Salon, this is Noni.”

“Noni, this Jyme Samson. Does Moshi have anything opened this afternoon? My apologies for calling on such short notice, but I have an appointment this evening and I need a trim.”

“Mr. Samson, there is no need for you to call. Moshi has you down as an exclusive client. You can always walk in. No appointment is ever needed.”

“Thank you, Noni.”

“You’re most welcome, and we will see you when you get here. Just ask for me at the front desk.”

We disconnected and I sat there looking at the phone. Zedd had gotten me on so many exclusive lists across town. He was the fucking man and I would forever be in his debt.

The house phone rang. “Mr. Samson, this is Geneva from the front desk. You have a Mr. Loon Obi here to see you.”

“Thank you. Do I need to come and get him or can you send him up?”

“I can send him straight up, sir.”

“Thank you.”

I unlatched the door and went to stand out in the hall. Loon showed up and looked in both ways down the hall before I could wave him down.

“Shit man, this is nice as fuck,” he said as he walked up.

“Thanks.”

I gave him the grand tour. Loon’s eyes were wide and he wore this goofy looking grin the whole time. He loved shit like this. Loon was a sucker for nice things, and he needed them in his life. I knew exactly how he felt now. Once you come to this side, you will never want to go back to the other. We sat, and I filled Loon in on everything that was going on with Cricket and me. I liked the sound of that,
Cricket and me
.

“I need a ride to the ferry,” Sheen moaned. We laughed at his bored expression.

“I have a hair appointment. I can drop you off.”

Everyone froze and gawked at me.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Sheen laughed. Kanoke and Sheen fell all over each other. They laughed so hard their faces and necks were turning red.

“Fuck you,” I said as I stood to go get dressed.

“No, no, don’t go. Tell us about your nail appointment and gynecologist visit.”

They burst out laughing. I just shook my head and walked down the hall to my bedroom. The guys were laughing, but if they only knew that I had already had a mani and pedi with Zedd. But I would take that shit to the grave with me.

Chapter 11

Look, Kanoke, and I dropped Sheen off and went straight to the salon. I asked for Noni.

“Mr. Samson, it’s so good to see you. It’s been too long,” Noni greeted me. She shook my hand, placing her other hand on top. It was a warm gesture and I appreciated it.

“Moshi is ready for you. Please follow me.”

As we walked to the back, the customers in the salon were staring at us. I wore a cream V-neck sweater with a pair of light jeans and navy Michael Kors loafers. Loon wore a striped, button-down, collared shirt with black slacks and black dress shoes. Kanoke had borrowed a couple of shirts and a pair of khakis from me. He wore my navy long sleeve Henley with the khakis and his brown polo boots. I wore my hair straight down since I was getting a trim. Loon wore his hair short with lots of product in it while Kanoke’s hair was in a straight ponytail. We made it to Moshi’s room and went in. I saw the flower arrangement on the table and smiled.

“May I get you all a beverage?” Noni asked. We shook our heads.

“Mr. Samson, the arrangements were breathtaking,” Moshi told me as she walked into the room. The guys looked over at the table. “Noni’s been showing everyone the arrangement you sent her.” I looked over at Noni and she was exiting the room with a wicked grin.

Moshi shook my hand and reached for my face. I bent down to her. She kissed me on both of my cheeks.

“I’m ready when you are,” she said.

“Moshi, these are my friends, Kanoke and Loon.”

They both waved at her and I gestured for them to have a seat on the couch. I sat down in Moshi’s chair and she caped me at once. She combed my hair and spritzed it all over with water. She cut for about seven or eight minutes. She palmed some product in her hands and then massaged it into my scalp and hair ends. She pulled out the blow dryer and went to work. About ten minutes later, Moshi was done. This cut was completely different from before, but I knew what to expect and I wasn’t afraid of the shears now.

Moshi took the cap off and turned me around to face the mirror. My hair looked even better than before. I couldn’t help but to run my fingers through it a couple of times.

“Perfect,” I said.

“No, perfection,” she corrected. We smiled at each other.

“Shit!” Kanoke said. Loon and I both glared at him. Moshi laughed and walked over to him. I couldn’t believe Kanoke said “shit” in front of Moshi.

“Do you like Mr. Samson’s haircut?” she asked him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he swallowed hard.

“It’s Moshi, and I have time to trim you up if you like.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Moshi said. Kanoke stood and pulled his hair tie off of his head. Moshi draped him with one of her capes.

Loon laughed. “So it looks as though you have a hair appointment as well,” he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture. I laughed.

Kanoke’s jaws got tight. “Shut the fu-…I mean, shut up.”

About twenty minutes later, we walked out through the salon and all got looks. Kanoke and I wore our hair down, but we both had luscious layers. Mine was longer and darker, but we both had a great head of hair.

We got back in the truck heading back toward the condo.

“Hey, I want to get some new clothes like you,” Kanoke said from the back seat. Loon looked over at me and I grinned.

“Okay.”

“Now, and I want to go out tonight,” Kanoke demanded, all pumped up by his new haircut and attention.

“You want to go right now?” I asked him, looking over at Loon.

“Yeah.”

“Right now…at this very moment?” Loon started teasing.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, right now? You want to go get some new clothes and then tonight you want to go out on the town?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you guys? Yes!” he yelled.

“We’re just busting your balls, man. We’re taking you,” I laughed.

Kanoke punched me in the shoulder hard and I swung back, but didn’t get him.

“Punch the shit out of that fucker,” I told Loon. Loon took off his seatbelt and turned around and punched Kanoke twice in the thigh and arm. Loon got that second lick in because Kanoke kicked him. Loon turned back around and buckled up his seat belt.

“It didn’t hurt,” Kanoke whispered and Loon and I started cracking up.

I pulled up to Moly’s shop and turned the car off. “Now listen: this shit’s going cost you.”

“I’m good,” he said.

“I mean seriously going to cost you,” I warned.

“I’m good, man; really.”

We got out of the truck and went inside of Moly’s. Once inside, I asked for Moly and the same young man from before walked up to us.

“Mr. Samson, it’s good to see you again. I’m Trevor, Moly’s apprentice. Did you need some pieces sent over, sir?”

“No, I was wondering if Moly could assist my friend with a new look.”

“Of course, sir. How soon did you need to make the appointment?”

“Now if possible,” I told him.

“A moment,” he walked out of the front. No one in the room paid us any attention. Everyone had a client they were assisting. Trevor came back into the front. “Mr. Samson, would you and your party follow me, please?”

We followed Trevor and went into the same room I was in when I first met Moly. Moly was standing by the platform with his measuring tape and chalk.

“I will accompany you all for translation purposes,” Trevor explained. I went and shook Moly’s hand and he nodded.

“Go stand on the podium and get undressed,” I told Kanoke. He walked over to the podium, stepped up on it, and undressed down to his boxers.

“Boxers too,” I said. Kanoke wasn’t shy; he just slid them right off. Moly closed his eyes and I could tell he relaxed a little. Moly had been afraid Kanoke had a dick like me, and that stung a little. Moly got started at once with Kanoke. He measured every single inch of him. Kanoke stood there excited and ready for anything. I envied his look toward life. I couldn’t help but to be salty at it for all the things that had happened to me. I remembered what Cricket had told me today at The Confectional -- what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I had never heard that before, but it seemed like something to try to live by. I knew if I hadn’t gone through what I had, I wouldn’t be the man I was. But who was I?