first off, I know how to treat a lady. And second,
I’m not some stranger you just met in the club. I think I’ve talked to and
shared more with you on the phone in the past several weeks than I did with my
ex-wife in three years of marriage.”
“That’s sad.”
“That’s one reason we’re divorced. What about you? We’ve
never discussed your ex. You said you were married before. Why did you break
up? Would you like to be married again?”
Arianna didn’t answer. The lined moved up. Mr. Good Body
moved in front of her and looked her in the eyes.
“Well, Miss Singleton?”
“I didn’t break up with my husband. He died from cancer. I
loved him a lot and it took me a while to get over it. I’m not even sure if I
am over it yet.”
She paused a moment, her mind wandering back to her wedding
day, then cleared her throat before continuing.
“I don’t know if I want to get married again. I know I want
to be in a monogamous, committed relationship. I just don’t know if that
necessarily means marriage.”
“I’m sorry. I guess I just assumed it was divorce,” he
said, stroking her arm. “There’s so much of that going around. His death must
have been hard on you and your children.”
“That’s okay. I’m pretty young to be a widow so most people
assume that. It was hard on us, but it gets easier with time.”
“You haven’t been serious with anyone since he passed?”
“No. Most of the guys I’ve met lack ambition, goals and
drive. I want more than that and I won’t settle. Life is too short.”
“What do you want? What are your goals?”
“I want a lot of things. Most importantly, I want my
children to be healthy and happy. For myself, I want to travel the world, meet
new and exciting people and get to the top of my field.”
“What’s the top?”
“Owning my own business – a publishing house, a newspaper, or a magazine – I haven’t decided. I do know that I want to call the shots.
I want to be the boss.”
“Well, as an entrepreneur myself, I can tell you there is
nothing like being your own boss. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. You work
harder, but the rewards are well worth it.”
“I’m sure.”
It was their turn to get into the club. Arianna reached
inside her purse for her driver’s license. He got his from his wallet.
The bouncer
gave them a cursory look and handed them back. They walked inside.
Sweat was pouring off the walls and the haze of cigarette
smoke was so thick they could barely see a foot in front of them.
Arianna coughed. “Now, I remember why it’s been so long
since I went out.”
“Cigarette smoke bothers you, too?”
“It’s disgusting,” she yelled, trying to be heard above P.
Diddy’s “I Need a Girl.”
“Well, don’t worry. We won’t be here long. We’ll leave as
soon as it becomes too much for either of us to take.”
They walked to the back of the club. He was holding her
hand, guiding her through the crowd. They found an empty spot on the wall near
the DJ booth.
They looked around the room. It was definitely not their
scene. A heavy set, dark-skinned woman wearing a blonde weave, green contacts,
and a tight, denim short set walked by. The heels on her black platform boots
were so high she could barely walk. She was braless, and her stretch-marked
breasts were fighting a losing battle with gravity, peeking from the sides and
drooping from the front of her halter.
They looked at each other and burst out laughing.
Arianna could barely contain herself. “Can you say GHET-TO
fabulous?”
Mr. Good Body rolled his eyes. “There are men - I’m
sorry - BOYS – in here who actually think that is attractive.”
“Do you?”
“Do I look like a boy to you?”
“No. You look like a full grown man.”
“That I am. And my definition of sexy is standing before
me. I am staring sexy right in the eyes.”
“Good answer.”
He pulled her close, bent down, slid his finger under her
chin and gently pulled her face
I’m not some stranger you just met in the club. I think I’ve talked to and
shared more with you on the phone in the past several weeks than I did with my
ex-wife in three years of marriage.”
“That’s sad.”
“That’s one reason we’re divorced. What about you? We’ve
never discussed your ex. You said you were married before. Why did you break
up? Would you like to be married again?”
Arianna didn’t answer. The lined moved up. Mr. Good Body
moved in front of her and looked her in the eyes.
“Well, Miss Singleton?”
“I didn’t break up with my husband. He died from cancer. I
loved him a lot and it took me a while to get over it. I’m not even sure if I
am over it yet.”
She paused a moment, her mind wandering back to her wedding
day, then cleared her throat before continuing.
“I don’t know if I want to get married again. I know I want
to be in a monogamous, committed relationship. I just don’t know if that
necessarily means marriage.”
“I’m sorry. I guess I just assumed it was divorce,” he
said, stroking her arm. “There’s so much of that going around. His death must
have been hard on you and your children.”
“That’s okay. I’m pretty young to be a widow so most people
assume that. It was hard on us, but it gets easier with time.”
“You haven’t been serious with anyone since he passed?”
“No. Most of the guys I’ve met lack ambition, goals and
drive. I want more than that and I won’t settle. Life is too short.”
“What do you want? What are your goals?”
“I want a lot of things. Most importantly, I want my
children to be healthy and happy. For myself, I want to travel the world, meet
new and exciting people and get to the top of my field.”
“What’s the top?”
“Owning my own business – a publishing house, a newspaper, or a magazine – I haven’t decided. I do know that I want to call the shots.
I want to be the boss.”
“Well, as an entrepreneur myself, I can tell you there is
nothing like being your own boss. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. You work
harder, but the rewards are well worth it.”
“I’m sure.”
It was their turn to get into the club. Arianna reached
inside her purse for her driver’s license. He got his from his wallet.
The bouncer
gave them a cursory look and handed them back. They walked inside.
Sweat was pouring off the walls and the haze of cigarette
smoke was so thick they could barely see a foot in front of them.
Arianna coughed. “Now, I remember why it’s been so long
since I went out.”
“Cigarette smoke bothers you, too?”
“It’s disgusting,” she yelled, trying to be heard above P.
Diddy’s “I Need a Girl.”
“Well, don’t worry. We won’t be here long. We’ll leave as
soon as it becomes too much for either of us to take.”
They walked to the back of the club. He was holding her
hand, guiding her through the crowd. They found an empty spot on the wall near
the DJ booth.
They looked around the room. It was definitely not their
scene. A heavy set, dark-skinned woman wearing a blonde weave, green contacts,
and a tight, denim short set walked by. The heels on her black platform boots
were so high she could barely walk. She was braless, and her stretch-marked
breasts were fighting a losing battle with gravity, peeking from the sides and
drooping from the front of her halter.
They looked at each other and burst out laughing.
Arianna could barely contain herself. “Can you say GHET-TO
fabulous?”
Mr. Good Body rolled his eyes. “There are men - I’m
sorry - BOYS – in here who actually think that is attractive.”
“Do you?”
“Do I look like a boy to you?”
“No. You look like a full grown man.”
“That I am. And my definition of sexy is standing before
me. I am staring sexy right in the eyes.”
“Good answer.”
He pulled her close, bent down, slid his finger under her
chin and gently pulled her face
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