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He kissed me. “You love me. You just don’t know it yet.”

My heart stopped for a second. He said it casually, like it was an offhand observation. But when I looked up at him, his eyes told a different story.

“Hopefully that’ll help you get through your shift,” he said, pulling my panties out of his pocket and dangling them in front of me.

I reached for them. He pulled them back, laughing as he tucked them away again.

“Dez, give me my underwear.”

“Come to my place after work and you’ll get them.” He started toward the storage room door and paused to look back at me. “And Belle?”

“What?”

“Whatever’s going on, know that I got you. Okay?” He smiled and left.

The door clicked shut behind him.

He had no idea who he was saying that to. And what scared me was how badly I wanted to believe him.

22 LA’BELLE EVANS

Gideon picked a spot in Hudson Yards that overlooked the river. I hated that he’d chosen somewhere nice. It was way too picturesque for what we were meeting about.

I went to the bank that morning and stood at the counter while the teller printed the cashier’s check. The woman made small talk while she waited for it to process—something about this heat wave we were dealing with even though it was fall. I smiled and nodded, watching four hundred and fifty thousand dollars become a piece of paper that I could fold in half.

Outside, I pulled my sunglasses down and got in my Uber, reminding myself that this was the right move. The only move.

Delusion was the only solution at this point.

He was already at the table when I arrived, looking smug as ever. A bottle of Sauvignon Blanc sat chilling in ice, and he’d already poured himself a glass. He wore a black polo and khakis like he was heading to the golf course after we were done. His relaxed demeanor made my skin crawl. He smiled as I approached. I straightened my shoulders and made sure my resting bitch face was on before I sat.

“No hello?” he asked as I pulled out the envelope and set it on the table. He opened it and removed the cashier’s check. His brows furrowed as he looked at the number.

“This isn’t the full amount,” he said.

“It’s what I could move without raising flags,” I replied.

“Did you go back into somebody's accounts?” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re still three fifty short.”

I looked at the wine bottle. It was too tempting to bash him in the face with it. I folded my hands in my lap instead. “I need more time to get you the rest.”

He leaned back in his chair, looking at me like he was calculating his next move. “Two more weeks,” he said.

“Are you dense? I can’t just pull that amount of money out my ass, Gideon. You think I took all that money from you in weeks?” I scoffed. “Do you want me to get arrested or do you want your money? I need at least a month.”

“Because you gotta steal from the next nigga to get my money? Is this some of Cardez’s?” he asked, tapping the envelope.

I ran my tongue over my teeth. “What does it matter to you? Give me a month and I’ll get you the rest of it, alright?”

“Fine,” he said, as a cold smile spread on his face. “Thirty days.” He reached for the bottle and filled my glass. “Let’s toast to seal the deal.”

“Nigga, fuck you,” I spat, pushing back from the table. “I’m not toasting to shit. See you in a month.”

I picked up my bag and left him there. A hand went to my chest as I moved down the sidewalk, bumping into strangers with no destination in mind. I just needed to put as much space between me and that restaurant as I could.

I didn’t stop until I reached a small park. I took a seat on an empty bench in the shade.

My hands were shaking from the energy it took to hold myself together. Everything in me wanted to flip the table and snuff that nigga in his face. I balled my fists in my lap, my nails digging into my palms, and took deep breaths until I felt in control again.