19. Clarissa

“Are you almost ready?”Tyree calls from the living room.

“Yep, I’m coming.” I fluff up my curls and turn from side to side. I’m still not over these bangs and how much volume this cut has given my hair. It’s so cute. Most of it is pulled into a bun, but I left the front out in my natural coils, falling just above my brows. For my face, I decided on dramatic eyes with a mauve rose eyeshadow and an exaggerated black liner and lashes paired with a neutral gloss lippie. I jog out of the bathroom and run to the closet. It takes me a minute, but I finally choose a black dress that falls above my knees and nude heels with a ton of bangles and rings.

Tyree is sitting on the couch on his phone. He’s dressed in a button-down and slacks. Since this is our event, it makes sense for us to dress up, but I don’t expect it from everyone else. Rissa was right on time, volunteering her place for the wedding meet and greet. Since Tyson is new in town, it made sense to pull everyone in the wedding party together.

“Wow, you look good.” Tyree stands and stuffs his phone in his pocket with a smile. I twirl in a 360 and give him a wink.

“I try.”

He pulls me forward, burying his head in my neck with a groan. “And you smell good,” he says, squeezing me.

“Weren’t you just rushing me?”

He slides his hands from my waist to my hips and then back with a deep inhale.

“Maybe.”

I laugh and shake my head before speaking. “Come on before we’re late.”

He groans again but walks to the door so we can leave.

In the car, we talk about our day and how his work is going.

“Yeah, he’ll be gone for three days, and it’s going to be tough,” Tyree says as he squeezes my hand. I never could understand how he comfortably drives with one hand, but it never fails—when we’re in a car, he’s going to hold onto me.

“Where is your assistant going again?”

“The company pays for continued education in hospitality. If you complete it within the year, you get an all-expenses trip to the graduation. This year is Hawaii, I think.”

“Wow, that’s cool.”

“I mean, it is, but his replacement is from a different department, and it never fails. Every time someone comes in to help, it ends up being the worst experience. I don’t know if they get nervous or what, but we end up cleaning their mess for weeks after.” He groans.

“That sounds like you’re a tyrant. A few days shouldn’t create havoc.”

“No, it shouldn’t, but it will.”

“You have to think positively. Show me a smile. These three days are going to be smooth.” I smile and turn to face him, and he’s already looking at me with a goofy grin.

“You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”

“Honestly, it’s a curse. Imagine being right all the time? But alas, it’s my cross to bear. I just do my best, you know.” I shrug.

He’s shaking his head, but his focus remains on the road. “It pains me to say because you, my love, are special to me, but nah, you’re not always right.”

I poke my lips to the side. “I literally am, though,” I whisper, and he laughs. “Seriously, it’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

He doesn’t respond, but he does pull my hand to his lips and kiss my knuckles.

Sometime later, we pull up to Rissa’s condo, and Tyree releases me. By the look of the cars, we might be a little later than I anticipated. She mentioned if we could get here before seven, we shouldn’t struggle to find parking, but any later would be a problem. I turn to face him with a grimace. “Grand entrance?”

These are high-rise condos with an enclosed parking garage, so we end up going several floors above just to find a space.

“Hmm,” he says, turning off the car and getting out. I follow behind him, and he holds out his hand for me to take. I grab one arm with both hands and snuggle to his side. It’s not super chilly but cold enough that I’m seeking any extra warmth. He laughs and pulls me closer as we walk to the elevator.

“I was just about to call you. It’s almost eight,” Rissa says, opening the door.

“Hello to you too,” I say, pulling her into a hug and bypassing Tyree’s expression and her declaration of my tardiness. The place is packed, and the music is low. Most everyone has a drink in their hand and are huddled in groups. Between his groomsmen and my bridesmaids, there are sixteen total, plus the maid of honor and best man.

It takes a minute, but we make our way around, saying hello and giving hugs.

“Are you thirsty?” Tyree asks, pointing to the kitchen after a new group gets my attention to come over.

“Yes, please,” I say, and he nods and leaves for the kitchen.

My cousins screech when I come near, and we hug. “Okay, eyes!” LaDi says with a dramatic eye flutter.

“And dress!” her sister DaDi joins in. LaDi and DaDi are twins. My uncle and aunt are what you call hip-hop enthusiasts, so when it came time to name their twin girls, I’m told it was a no-brainer.

“I mean, just a little somethin’,” I say, fluffing up my bangs, and they laugh.

“Girl, your wedding party is big,” LaDi adds as she sips her drink.

Rissa comes over, and we talk about her shop. She truly has the most amazing stories. She employs quite a few people at her boutique, and I’m always in awe when she talks about it. The idea that her talent and drive are now directly impacting ten other people’s lives financially is unbelievable in the best way possible. I remember when she dreamt of going to fashion school and how hard she worked. It’s the dopest thing to see your friend shining and living fully in their purpose.

“Well, Ronelle stopped by since she was in town to say hi. It all happened so fast I hardly registered Jonathan picking up my new tailor from the floor.”

Everyone expels a gasp, and I shake my head. She seriously drops these names like it’s no big deal, and to her, it isn’t. But to anyone else, it’s a huge deal. If I was at work and a literal pop star walked in, I would faint too. The new tailor was not ready for the people he would meet working at her boutique.

“Damn, how you slide over that? You know Ronelle?” DaDi asks.

Rissa pauses and looks up into the eyes of my cousins. Eyes that seem to be growing by the second. She never thinks it’s a big deal, but she’s about to find out. My cousins are going to talk her ear off, asking question after question.

“What? Dang, y’all just like Lis. She’s so laid-back. It’s not even a big deal.”

Everyone groans, but she continues with a laugh. I’m not sure what the exact moment is, but somewhere between her staff fainting at first sight of Ronelle and them all being first row to a rant about her Grammy snub, my feet tell me to sit my ass down.

These shoes are cute, but not after I’ve been standing for thirty minutes. I excuse myself to find a corner to sit in, and at this moment, I realize I never got that drink.

I search the room, and sure enough, Tyree is in his own huddle. He’s fully enthralled in whatever story he’s telling, and he looks as though he’s made it to the best part. I guess he forgot my drink. I would go over there and mention it, but I would have to pass the kitchen to get to him, so I wave it off, blow out a breath, and walk over to see what’s available.

Lis knows my drinks of choice, and she has my favorite alcoholic fruit punch and finger foods. I grab a plate, fill up my cup, and tuck myself into a corner out of sight.

She made these tiny mushroom bites with a cheesy sauce that is so good. As I’m taking a sip, I tilt my head and do a shimmy in my seat. All by myself or in a room full of people, if the food is good, I’m going to shimmy.

A throat clears, and I jump in my seat. I turn to see someone is also tucked into the kitchen, and with the low lights, I missed him sitting further to the side.

“Sorry, I thought I was by myself.”

He holds his hands up to stop me from moving,

“You’re good. I wasn’t going to say anything, but it felt like I should announce myself,” Tyson says with a laugh. I’m still getting used to his accent.

“I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Never that. I just needed a little break.”

I nod and focus on my plate.

“So, Ms. Issa. Why are you hiding in the kitchen?”

I groan and look over my shoulder like someone might hear me.

“Well, I was waiting on a drink, but Tyree tends to get a little sidetracked when he’s telling a story. Plus, my feet were screaming.”

He laughs, and it’s a rich, husky sound that reminds me of comfort. Like a warm blanket when it’s cold.

“Makes sense.”

“Why are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding so much as taking time away from stories I’ve heard too many times. I swear Tyree acts like I wasn’t there in real time, the way he tells them.”

I nod because Tyree can get on a roll. It’s why I didn’t bother saying anything about my drink.

“Whatchu drinking?” he asks, sitting straighter and pointing to my now-empty cup.

“Since Rissa loves me, she made my special punch. I always hated to taste straight liquor. I prefer mine to be hidden with fruit or some type of sugar.”

“Noted. What’s your favorite drink? Like the one drink you order when you’re out?”

I tilt my head and poke my lips to the side. “Probably a green appletini. They taste like green Jolly Ranchers, which are my favorite,” I say with a shrug. I’m sure I’m not the only person with a college drinking horror story. I called myself being grown and getting grown drinks and quickly learned I was very much childish because the taste of liquor, no matter the type, was gross to me.

We sit in the kitchen like this, talking, and my sore feet are long forgotten.