Chapter 18

Whiskee

One Week Later

"Girl, please shut up!" Mahogany said, and I had to cover my mouth to keep my laughter from bubbling over.

For whatever reason, these women on TikTok set themselves up for her form of tough self-love every Wednesday when she went live. The woman that joined her live was talking about how hard it was for her to move on from her ex because she didn't understand why he broke up with her. It didn't matter what Mahogany said, ol' girl wasn't listening. Mahogany had finally lost her patience with the conversation, and I wasn't surprised.

"If you at the mall and someone punch you, are you going to stand there and say, ‘Oh God. Why did you hit me? I can't believe you hurt me. I would never do that to you.' Nah. You gon' get beat up or beat they ass! It's the same way with this. He punched your heart and hurt you, but it's time to move on. Stop worrying about why he did or the fact that you wouldn't do it to him. Take your L and move on."

All I could do was shake my head and chuckle because, even though her analogy was crazy, what she said was truth. The woman was so concerned with being hurt that she wasn't giving herself the space to heal. She was so focused on the past and the old version of him that she was keeping herself in a state of depression.

I waved at her to let her know I was leaving. Since she had a full day of recording brand videos, I'd come up here to refresh her sew-in and do her makeup. When I made it to my car, I checked my phone to see if Beethoven had texted me back. We were talking about needs, wants, and love languages. I wasn"t sure when things started to feel more like a real relationship, but that was where we were at with it now, and I was okay with that.

Before I could read his text, I was getting a call from Carlos. I hadn't heard from him since he had those goons carry me out of Mahogany's apartment. I started to ignore his call, but in case something was wrong, I answered.

"Hello?"

"You answered."

Hearing his voice made my eyes water. I'd never gone this long without seeing or talking to my brother. "Are you okay?"

"I miss you."

A sigh escaped me as I sat back in my seat. "Carlos…"

"I fucked up. I know I did. The power got to me, and I started tripping. Can you come home so I can apologize in person?"

I thought it over for a while before agreeing with, "I'll come so we can talk, but I'm not staying there, Los."

"I'll take that. Can you come tomorrow evening?"

"Yeah, I'll see what I can do."

"Aight, Whis. I love you."

"I love you too."

After disconnecting the call, I checked Beethoven's text, and his reply made me chuckle.

Mr. Smith: I want to talk to you about this face to face. We also need to discuss when you'll be serving me my favorite food.

The chicken over rice?

Mr. Smith: Don't be cute Whiskee. You know what I said my favorite thing to eat is.

You've been very affectionate and open lately. I didn't think there would ever come a day where you'd tell me you wanted me sexually.

Mr. Smith: Should I stop?

No. I like it.

Mr. Smith: You gon like this dick too.

Beethoven!

Mr. Smith: Wait until I'm in that pussy. Then you'll really be saying my name.

Get off my phone Bay.

Mr. Smith: I'on want you calling me what everyone else calls me.

Then what do you want me to call you crazy?

Mr. Smith: Beethoven or Baby. Daddy works too.

???? I will see you later baby. I'm about to head home and get ready for the meeting.

The whole time I drove, a smile stayed on my face. This man was something else, and I was starting to like him more and more.

Meeting with a weddingplanner made things even more real. This wasn't just a regular wedding planner; this was a wedding planner that had been used by the Smith family for years. She stayed on trends and had a young team behind her, but the sixty-year-old woman hadn't come to play and knew exactly what she was doing.

We basically went over color schemes and menu options so she could put together a schedule for us to try and approve certain things. We also discussed venues. When it was over, Mariam told us that Tim wanted the wedding to happen in three months. With it being late March, the idea of a June wedding wasn't bad. I was just surprised he wanted it to happen so soon. I shouldn't have been. After all, this was a business deal, and Carlos made it clear Tim wanted us married before he gave him the next shipment.

However, Beethoven had gotten his father to change his mind about that, which I appreciated. They may not have trusted my brother's leadership, but they trusted my father's men and his clientele, and the product was moving just as well now as it was when Robert Carter was in control.

"How you feelin'?" Beethoven asked, squeezing my thigh as we cruised down the street. "You still down?"

"Mhm." With a nod, I looked over at him and smiled. This man was sexy as hell. I still couldn't believe he was my man—whether it was by arrangement or not. After all these years of avoiding men who were in the streets, I'd gotten with one of the heaviest hitters of all. "You?"

"I get to have you as my wife. Of course I'm still down."

Every time he said stuff like that, it made me feel all warm and mushy inside. Forget butterflies—this man gave me fireflies that lit me up and made it hard for me to stay in my darkness.

I wasn't sure of our destination. I was perfectly content being a passenger princess. When we arrived at the new supper club off Main that I'd mentioned wanting to go to, excitement bubbled up within me.

"You listen," I cooed.

"Listening is what makes a great lover. I'll always listen to you."

Light laughter escaped me as I unbuckled my seat belt. "I didn't think a man like you could be a gentleman or intentional lover, and I especially didn't think you'd soften when handling a woman. I'm glad I was wrong."

"Ain't no reason for me to be hard toward you, and I won't allow you to be that way with me. Stay soft and feminine for me. That's what attracted me to you."

Looking out of the window, I released a content sigh. He got out and walked over to my side of the car. When I was out, he pressed me against it as he asked, "Have I told you today that you look absolutely beautiful?"

I'd dressed for him. His favorite color was olive green, so I put on an olive-green dress that accentuated every one of my curves.

"Yes, but I won't stop you if you tell me again."

He gave me one of his signature sexy smiles. "You look so beautiful, bae. I can't keep my eyes off you."

"Damn, Bay. This you?"

At the sound of a man's voice, Beethoven turned. He stayed in front of me, shielding me from whoever it was. Once he saw them, his body relaxed, and he stepped next to me.

"Yeah, she is." He took my hand into his. "Isn't she beautiful?" The man whistled as he looked me over with a nod. "Aight, don't look too fuckin' hard."

The man chuckled as they shook hands. "My fault, cuz. She is beautiful though."

"Thank you," I replied, wrapping my arm around Beethoven's.

They made small talk for a minute or two. I tried to walk away, but he held me close. When they were done, we headed across the parking lot toward the entry. Beethoven had made us a reservation, thankfully, because it was packed. The green, black, and gold décor combined with the dark lighting was beautiful. Jazz music played in the background. We were here just in time to hear the live band that was getting set up on the stage.

The hostess led us to a table that was in the corner by the exit door but still close to the stage. Before our waitress even arrived, two drinks were delivered by the bartender.

"I hope it's cool that I ordered for us when I made the reservation," Beethoven said.

"That depends on how well you ordered."

He gave me a cocky grin. "I think I did pretty well. I got us peach cobbler martinis to start. It has Crown Royal peach in it. Give it a try."

Lifting the pretty drink to my lips, I took a small sip. My eyes closed and I smiled as I savored the sweet and slightly spicy drink. "Mm… you did a really great job, baby. This is good."

Whisky was both our liquor of choice, so it didn't surprise me that he'd gone with a drink that had that as a base, but I was surprised he got something that was this sweet. It did a great job masking the task of alcohol, which meant this was a drink that would need to be sipped and not guzzled.

"Whew." Him wiping his forehead of invisible sweat as he relaxed in his seat made me laugh. "I was confident you'd like it, but I was a little worried too."

"If this is how you're starting out, I think you're going to do just fine."

He'd selected fried green tomatoes for the appetizer along with sauteed shrimp that had the same sauce that was drizzled on the fried green tomatoes on the side. I was just as pleased with those.

While we waited on our entrees, we picked up on our conversation from earlier when Beethoven said, "I know this isn't for forever, but I meant it earlier when I said I wanted to know what you want and need from me. How I can keep you happy and make sure you feel loved."

"May I ask why you care about my happiness? These days, people are not partnership-minded at all. They don't want any responsibility in a romantic relationship, and everyone is out for self. The men I've dated in the past have made it clear my happiness is my responsibility. Why is that different with you?"

"You answered your question yourself. You said people aren't partnership-minded and want no responsibility in their romantic relationship. I want the woman I'm with to be happy, secure, and at peace because if she is, that will affect the way she is with me. With the way my life is set up, I have no room for drama, dis-ease, or a bitter and unhappy woman. I also don't have room for anything unnecessarily hard. That's why I said what I said in the car. I'll put forth effort one hundred percent, but if a woman or a relationship is hard to deal with and maintain, it ain't for me."

He paused and took a sip of his drink. "I don't believe in getting into a relationship and not being prepared to truly love someone, and when you love someone, that means you prioritize their needs and happiness. I don't mind taking care of my woman and keeping her happy because I know she will do the exact same for me. We'll take care of each other, and no one will be taken advantage of or lacking."

I was so impressed with his answer, I couldn't respond right away. When I did respond, I told him what I wanted and needed from a man, and he told me the same. We also discussed what we had to offer.

"My femininity, grace, my mind and heart, but most importantly, my partnership," I told him after he shared with me that he had to offer provision, protection, validation, support, and acceptance.

I loved that we both avoided those cliché things like love and respect. Things that should have come naturally. That did lead to us discussing our love languages. Mine were gifts and physical touch, and his were service and physical touch. That explained why things had progressed between us so quickly physically.

Our entrees arrived, and I had to give Beethoven credit. He selected lamb chops with a Grand Marnier honey glaze sauce that was cooked to perfection. I had not one complaint by the time he asked if I had room for dessert, which I didn't. He asked me to dance, and I happily agreed. Near our table, our hands connected. While my arm wrapped around his neck, his wrapped around my waist. Things between Beethoven and I felt so authentic, I almost forgot our upcoming wedding was a ruse.

"If I"m not careful, I think I"m going to fall in love with you," I confessed.

Beethoven"s lips curled upward as he closed the space between us. Lifting my head by my chin, he waited until I was looking into his eyes to say, "You might think that... but I know."

Both of his hands went to my waist as we kissed and continued our slow sway. As the kiss deepened, his hands lowered. When his fingers slipped between my ass cheeks and grazed my pussy I whimpered. The low moan he released as he squeezed my ass and swirled his tongue around mine made my pussy throb. This had been the perfect dinner, and I couldn't wait to see what else Beethoven had up his sleeve.

The kiss left me winded. Avoiding his eyes, I pulled in deep breaths as my nipples pebbled.

"Let me see your pretty face," he demanded, voice just above a whisper as he gently tugged my hair out of the way. Keeping it in a firm grip, he released a moan before tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. "I can"t wait to watch you cum."

It took everything inside of me not to tell him that we could leave so he could see it right now. As genuine as our connection felt, things were still so new between us. So instead of replying, I wrapped my hand around his neck and lowered his lips to mine again.