Page 27 of Session 25

“My story is ghetto, and I’d like to forget about the betrayal for just a moment.”

“Touché.” He lifted his glass of water. “Are you having a drink or you’re behaving on the clock?”

“Do I look like I behave?” I flagged down the waiter and ordered a Cosmo.

Roman and I sat and talked until he had gotten an important call. With my laptop out, going over some QuickBooks, I realized I hadn’t felt this relaxed in a long time.

He was standing near the balcony, looking directly at me as I leaned back in the chair and couldn’t help but think.

Roman was fine.

Not the kind of fine that needed designer labels, flashy jewelry, or a loud personality to get attention either. The man walked into a room and somehow became the room.

Standing a little over six feet, he was built exactly how a grown man should be. Broad shoulders. Wide chest. Thick arms that stretched the sleeves of his shirt just enough to make you notice. He wasn't one of those gym obsessed men who looked pretty but couldn't carry a case of water. Roman looked strong. Confident, but not cocky.

His dark skin was smooth, complemented by a salt and pepper beard that sat perfectly along his jaw line. The gray mixed into the black somehow made him look even better. Like life had put a little seasoning on him instead of aging him.

Everything about him screamed grown.

The calm way he talked. The patience in his eyes. The confidence that didn't require an audience.

Roman wasn't trying to impress anybody, and that was probably why he was so damn impressive.

Looking at him, it was easy to believe women threw themselves at him. The harder thing to figure out was why he was standing across from me looking like I was the one worth staring at when he had a ring on his finger.

“Get out ya’ head, if he doesn’t care, why should you?” I mumbled, looking down at the laptop. The morality of the situation was that I was being what them hoes were to Marcel. And somehow it left a sour taste in my mouth. “I’m gonna go,” I mouthed to him from the table. Roman raised his index finger to stop me, but I had already made up my mind.

Now was the best time to leave. He had been waiting on this call all afternoon, so I knew it was gonna take up a good amount of his time. I nearly tripped trying to get out of the restaurant. My mind was all over the place. I looked over my shoulder before getting on the elevator, sighing a breath of relief when the doors closed.

I got to my room, tapped the keypad, kicked off my sneakers at the door, and set the laptop down in the open closet.

“Fuck you been?” I almost shitted bricks when I came face to face with Marcel. The dark sunglasses and busted lip reminded me of the incident yesterday. Unable to walk, my feet felt like they were cemented to the ground. “You ain’t hear me?” By now he was walking in my direction, grabbing hold of my neck, slamming me up against the door.

“Marcel, calm down.”

“Calm down?” He spewed, spit flying from his mouth as he yanked off the sunglasses. His eyes were the size of golf balls. Stunned, I gasped. “You see this shit? You at a hotel fucking niggas after you got me jumped? Huh?”

I had never seen Marcel this upset. How he found me was still a mystery, but then again, this is what he was good for: keeping tabs on me while he was all Willy nilly everywhere.

“I’m not fucking no one,” I said through my heavy breathing.

“You think I’m stupid!” He yelled just as the taps on my door came. My eyes immediately widened. If Roman was on the other side of the door, I was fucked. What would come next, I don’t know, but I wasn’t ready for this type of bullshit today. “Who the fuck is it?” Marcel mushed me out of the way, placing the sunglasses back on his face. I bet his stupid ass didn’t want anyone to see how fucked up he was.

“Roman.” My heart pounded so loud I could have sworn I heard it ringing in my ears.

“Who the fuck is Roman, Koi?” He pulled open the door, coming face to face with Roman. I expected Roman to budge or back away, but he looked past Marcel, asking if I was okay.

Stuck, I didn’t know how to respond, and that was all the response Roman needed.

“Yo my man, can I help you?”

You good, Koi?” I bit my bottom lip when Marcel turned to me. “You ain’t good. I suggest you come on up out of her room, or I’ll get security to come and escort you out.”

“Nigga I don’t know who you are but’” Roman pulled out his phone.

“Room seven ten needs security, and obviously y’all need a better system at the front desk. When I come down, I’m gonna need the names of every staff who is working the concierge.” He ended the call. “We could have tried this the easy way, but since you acting like a bitch ass nigga now you gotta get banned.”

“Koi, who the fuck is this nigga?” He sent daggers my way.