Page 29 of Solomon’s Temple

I knew I had to make a choice: take this to HR or cut my losses and work somewhere else.

Solomon reached over and took my hand. “You look like you've got something heavy on your mind. Want to talk about it?”

I shook my head. “It's nothing.”

“Don't lie to me. Talk to me, love.”

“I may be out of a job.”

“Dancing?”

“No. My real job. My boss found out about me dancing, and . . .” My voice trailed off. Just thinking about the way he looked and talked to me made me want to go to the center tomorrow and flatten his tires.

Ol’ dirty bastard.

“And what, Temple?” I could hear the sharp tone in his voice and knew I probably shouldn't have said anything.

“Nothing. I shouldn't have said anything. I'll handle it.”

“What did he do? Tell me, or I'm going to pull this car over, and we’ll sit on this highway until you talk.”

“Solomon—”

“I'm not playing.”

“Fine. He asked me to dance for him and his friends, saying he'd pay me four thousand upfront. I told him no, and he insulted me. When I told him fuck him, he asked me when, and before I could think, I pushed the coffee he was drinking in his face and left.”

I could see Solomon’s facial expressions change from shock to anger in seconds.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes, but I'm going to handle it. Possibly quit and work somewhere else. I honestly can't be mad that he propositioned me after finding out what I did in my free time. It comes with the territory.” I shrugged. Although deeply offended, he wasn't the first person to approach me on that level, and I was sure he wouldn't be the last.

Solomon’s silence was loud as hell. I could practically see the steam coming from his ears.

I chuckled mirthlessly as I interlocked our fingers and said, “Didn't the Bible say something about being slow to anger and that vengeance is His?”

“I ain't all the way redeemed yet. That man crossed a line. I don't care if you were selling yourself on a corner; he had no right to approach you on that tip. He has a whole wife that he doesn't even respect. I knew it from the moment I saw him eyeing you at the fundraiser that he was going to try you.

“No is a complete sentence, baby. He needs to know that and respect that. You can go to human resources. You shouldn't have to quit what you love for a nigga that doesn't love his wife enough to respect her.”

“That's true, but I'm okay, Solo. I promise.”

We didn't speak for the rest of the ride and let the sounds of EWF fill the empty space.

When he pulled up to my house, he shut off the engine and looked over at me. “I had a good time with you. Thank you again for everything,” he said, leaning over and going for my cheek, but I turned my head so the kiss landed on my lips. I placed my hand on the back of his neck and slipped my tongue in his mouth. He let out a soft groan before he quickly pulled back some and dropped his head.

That made me feel a way.

I knew I wasn't getting the dick any time soon, and I was okay with that, but with him dodging my lips, it made me feel as if something may have been wrong with me.

“What's the problem, Solomon? You can't at least kiss me? Does my breath stink or something?”

His head shot up, and he frowned. “No, baby.”

“Then what's the problem?”

“Kissing is too intimate. It opens up things inside of me that I keep tucked away. I want to kiss every part of you. From the crown of your head to the soles of your feet, but I can't do that just yet. Not until we're married.”