The Hookup Dilemma by Constance Gillam

Author:Constance Gillam
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: City Life Fiction;Contemporary Romance;African American Romance Fiction;African American Women's Fiction;Contemporary Urban Fiction;Contemporary Women's Fiction;Holiday Romance;Multicultural Romances;Romantic Comedy;Women's Humorous Fiction;Entangled Publishing;Constance Gillam;The Hookup Dilemma;Amara;Single Title Romance;Stand Alone Romance
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2021-09-03T01:22:22+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Rashida’s cell buzzed and vibrated across the bathroom counter as she applied makeup.

Without looking at the phone, she knew it was Elliott. He’d started texting her once, sometimes twice a day with simple messages: Hope you have a great day. And at night: Sleep tight.

Sometimes she responded back. Sometimes she ignored him. Like now. She was so conflicted about their relationship. Yes, she’d been jealous when she thought he had a girlfriend, but that didn’t mean there could ever be anything serious between them. There were too many complications in their lives.

She studied her face in the mirror. Too much mascara? She rarely wore makeup, so when she did, she always second-guessed herself.

She had a reservation at Southland, a mid-tier restaurant, not cheap but not an eatery that required a year’s salary and a six-month reservation. It had been open for only four months, located near the Ansley Park area of Atlanta, and it was all the rage.

The phone buzzed again with an incoming text. Her hand jerked. Damn. Black gook smeared her eyelid.

She snatched up the phone, planning to send off a searing message to Elliott. The first message had been from him asking how her day had gone.

The second message had come from Renford Benefield, her dinner date and business associate. She read the text then groaned.

He’d gone to Mexico over the weekend with friends and now had Montezuma’s revenge.

She sent him a reply saying she hoped he felt better soon. She’d have to go to the restaurant alone. No way could she cancel. Her review was due in her editor’s inbox by tomorrow morning.

Yes, she tended to procrastinate. She didn’t examine that weakness too closely.

After finishing her makeup, she went to her closet and picked out a pair of shoes to compliment her off-the-shoulder maxi dress.

After picking up her phone, she started to drop it in her clutch then remembered she hadn’t returned Elliott’s text. On the way out. Have a good evening.

He texted back immediately. A date?

Critiquing a restaurant. Alone.

Which one?

She didn’t have time for twenty questions. Southland.

Always wanted to check it out. Want company?

She did—she wanted his company—and it irritated her that she did. Much to her annoyance, she found herself texting: Sure.

Forty minutes later, she stepped into the restaurant’s waiting area. A group of women chatted around the hostess stand. A couple stood off to the side. Discreet conversation, the clatter of china, and the clink of glasses filtered out from the dining room. Frank Sinatra drifted softly from invisible speakers. The restaurant was decorated in black and white with splashes of purple—purple in the artwork, on the wall, and on the small pillows lining the back of the benches.

When she walked up to the hostess stand, the young woman gave her a polite smile. “Your name, please?”

“Rashida Howard.”

The hostess glanced at the sheet in front of her. “Dinner for two?”

Where was Elliott? She turned and peered out the door, and she spotted him giving his keys to the valet. Her gut fluttered then immediately started churning.

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