Page 55 of Color Me Broken
She hit send just as they reached the cashier. As Miracle started unloading the groceries onto the conveyor belt, Tasha reached for her debit card out of her purse, still smiling. She hadn’t smiled like this in months, so she was interested to see where this newfound friendship with Kenji would lead.
,
The next day,Tasha finally gave in and accepted Kenji's offer. They were at one of Detroit's finest brunch spots, the kind with floor-to-ceiling windows, and with that soft R&B playing overhead while you eat.
“This a nice restaurant, Kenji,” Tasha said, taking in the surroundings and fancy décor. “You must bring all your dates here?”
Kenji smirked without even looking up from the menu.
“I don’t even date like that,” he said, calm as ever. “Why? You jealous already?”
Tasha sucked her teeth. “Boy, shut up. Ain’t nobody jealous. I know a ‘I bring all my hoes here’ spot when I see one.”
Kenji finally looked at her with his eyebrow raised. “Aight, first of all, don’t play with me. Second, if I had ‘hoes,’ you think I’d waste money on brunch? Nah. They’d be getting McMuffins.”
Tasha burst into laughter; she tried hard to swallow. “You so stupid.”
“I’m serious,” he said, leaning back in his seat, eyes dragging over her, slow but respectful. “A woman I actually like?! She gets fine dining. She gets places with linen napkins. She gets a… better me. Feel me?”
Tasha’s smile softened against her will. Across the restaurant, Mar walked in with his wife, Meeka, by his side, with one hand resting on the small of her back, leading her to a nearby booth.
“Mar, bae, this spot nice,” Meeka said, looking around as the hostess placed their menus down on the table. Mar wasn’t listening; his eyes were locked straight across the room. As if he spotted a ghost.
“Oh fuck… nall,” he whispered under his breath. Meeka's eyes followed his line of sight. “Oh shit,” she said, rubbing her eyebrow.
“Exactly,” Mar said, already pulling his phone out. “She got my nigga fucked up, Meek.”
Meeka shook her head, reaching for his phone. “Stay outta them people business, Mario. Let’s just enjoy our?—”
He swatted her arm out of his way, watching Kenji as he leaned back in his chair, smiling at Tasha. “Nah…” He frowned. “This ain’t finna go how that nigga think.” He hit the number on his cell. It rang twice.
“Jue… you might wanna wake up for this one, nigga.”
“…Whatcha want? Damn,” Juelz asked with sleep still in his voice.
Mar glanced over at Tasha and Kenji's table once more. “Yo girl out here on a date, nigga.”
Silence. Then?—
“Where the fuck y’all at?”
Mar smirked. “Droppin’ the pin now, nigga.”
The call ended.
Back at the table, Tasha and Kenji were locked into easy conversation, the kind that came naturally and not forced.
The waitress walked by with mimosas, and she snagged one off the tray. “So, what you tryna say, Kenji?” she asked, swirling the drink around in a circle like she wasn’t already blushing.
“I’m saying…” he tapped the table. “If you in this seat right now, then you not just anybody.”
Tasha looked away, fighting a grin. “Whatever.”
The waitress came over, took their orders, and slid off again. The moment she left, the energy between Tasha and Kenji settled into something easy, something warm.
Kenji leaned back, one arm draped over the back of his chair, his eyes fixed on hers. “So, tell me something about you. What does Tasha do when she’s not saving lives?”
Tasha scoffed. “I like to do a lot of things.”
