Chapter 4 FOUR

I ask the waiter to refill my glass again while waiting for Beau to arrive at the restaurant. It's been 30 minutes since I got here and no trace of Beau yet. I'm starting to think he's not coming, but I also don't think he would pass up the opportunity to have dinner with me. I'm confident that my threat will work, and Beau will back off because of where I'm from. I was born and spent some of my youth in Nigeria. His mother always hated me because of the color of my skin and didn't try to hide it. She looks down on Africans. If the bitch had her way, Africans would still be her slaves.

I watch as the clock in the restaurant strikes nine o'clock, which means an hour has passed and still no sign of Beau. I can't believe he's standing me up.

"Ma'am, would you like to order now?" The waiter asks for-if I'm not wrong-the tenth time tonight.

"No, but I would like a bottle of whatever you have been filling my glass with."

"Alright, ma'am."

The anger I'm feeling is all consuming, the best thing I can do at this point is try to drown it out by drinking. I know it's not the best solution, but I already feel a little tipsy, so it won't hurt to get thoroughly drunk.

I can't believe Beau stood me up. I know he's an asshole, but I don't remember him as the kind of person to do something like this. The worst part is I don't even have his number, so I can't call him. I had asked my secretary to set up the meeting earlier today.

The more I sit here and think about why Beau didn't show tonight, the more memories of us start to appear in my mind. This makes me even angrier and want to drink more-so I can forget those memories. They're built on lies, and they only make me sad, or worse-they make me feel like the stupidest woman on this Earth for loving someone like him. It makes me so angry that even after the seven years I've had to get over him, the seven good years, thinking about the time we had together still makes me tear up. I quickly wipe the teardrops that escape my eyes, pick up the wine glass, and drown it in one go.

I might have been young then, but I know what I felt for Beau was real. All he felt was nothing. Beau never loved me back, and he ensured I would never forget it, no matter how many years passed. I hate you, Beau. I hate you, Beau Williams. You are an asshole.

"Ma'am, would you like me to hail a cab or call someone to pick you up?" The waiter asks, interrupting my thoughts.

"I hate you, Beau Williams. I hate you, Beau Williams." My eyes start to feel heavy. I'm so sleepy.

"Ma'am, please don't fall asleep. Please don't fall asleep!" The person talking to me sounds like they're panicking about something. I wonder what. But I'm too drunk to understand what he's saying.

"I feel so sleepy," I say to the stranger in front of me. "Let me rest my eyes for a little while, just a little while." My eyes drift closed as my head drops onto the table.

BEAU

My phone rings, drawing my attention away from the papers I'd been working on all night. I ignore it like I've been doing with all the calls I've been getting tonight and continue to focus on the papers in front of me. Once it rings for the fifth time, I have no choice but to answer. Without caring to check the caller ID, I place the phone to my ear and answer the caller in an annoyed tone.

"What!" I bark into the phone.

"Is that how to greet your favorite restaurant owner?" The female on the other end says. I take the phone away from my ear to check the caller ID. The name shown on my screen matches the voice I just heard. I am a little confused about why my cousin's wife would call me at this hour.

With my brows drawn in confusion, I put the phone back to my ear. "Emilia, I'm sorry; I didn't care to check who was calling before answering. Did something happen to Harvey? You never call this late," I ask, concerned something might have happened to my cousin or Emilia herself.

"We're both fine; I am calling because I have someone at my restaurant that I need you to take home."

"Who is this person?"

"I don't know her name, but she is a beautiful dark-skinned lady. She was drinking for a few hours before she passed out."

"I don't understand. Why are you calling me to take this lady home?"

"I am calling you because your name was the last thing she said before passing out."

"My name?"

"Yes, your name. Her exact words were, 'I hate you, Beau Williams.' I am presuming you know her?"

"You said she is dark-skinned?" There's only one dark-skinned lady on this Earth who could utter those words while drunk. Emilia must be talking about Delilah. But I can't believe she passed out in Emilia's restaurant. She must have drunk a lot; I'm curious as to why.

"Yes, I did. Please, can you pick her up or call someone to take her home? With her eyes closed, we can't open her phone. I can't call someone to take her home or even get her address to send her home in a cab. You're my only hope, Beau." I can hear the desperation in Emilia's voice.

"I'll be on my way shortly to pick her up." I get up from my chair and start to clear my desk, filling my briefcase with all the files I would like to continue working on back at my apartment.

"Really?" Emilia sounds surprised. "I have to admit I didn't expect you to agree so quickly."

"She's my girlfriend. Of course I'll help her."

"Your girlfriend?" Emilia asks, shocked.

"Yes, my girlfriend." Delilah might not have accepted me yet, but I still want the world to know she is mine. It doesn't surprise me that Emilia is surprised to hear me call Delilah my girlfriend. Anyone who knows me knows my chances of being in an interracial relationship are zero to none because of my mother. I know once she finds out where I am and what I'm doing I won't hear the end of it, but I couldn't care less right now. I love Delilah, I've always loved her. And it's high time I get her back. When the time comes, I'll deal with my mother. But right now, my whole focus is on getting Delilah back.

"Wow, I can't believe it. Does your mother know?" Emilia isn't just my cousin's wife, but also a close friend, so she knows my mother and her stance on interracial relationships well.

"No, and I would like to keep it that way." I walk out of my office with my briefcase and the phone still to my ear. Once I make it to the elevator and the doors close, I put my phone on speaker so I can send a text message to my driver to get the car ready.

"You know I am the last person who would tell your mom you have a dark-skinned girlfriend."

"I know. You might be married to my cousin, but you sure don't share our family's point of view on such matters."

"Exactly, and that's why we are friends."

"One of many reasons." I reply with a chuckle. The elevator doors open into the parking garage and my car is already waiting for me. "I'm on my way." I say as I get into the car and the driver pulls out.

"See you in a bit. I am waiting for you to get here before I leave."

"Be there soon," I reply before hanging up and asking the driver to step on it. Seeing Delilah can't come soon enough.

***

I walk into the restaurant with a million thoughts on my mind. The whole way here, I couldn't stop thinking about the million reasons why Delilah would drink so much that she would pass out. I wonder if my method of becoming her investor had caused her too much stress. I knew making myself the only investor available for her company would make her hate me, but it is the only way I can get close to her.

"Finally, you're here," Emilia says, standing up from the seat beside a sleeping Delilah.

"What happened? Why is she drunk?" I ask as I examine Delilah. She looks okay, and that at least, brings me comfort.

"One of the waiters said she was waiting for someone, but they never showed up. I guess she got drunk while waiting."

"Oh, and you said she called my name before she passed out?"

"Yes, I was stepping out of my office when I heard her say 'I hate you, Beau Williams' twice."

"Thank you so much for calling me." I say as I lift Delilah in my arms. Her head rests against my chest comfortably. I watch as she snuggles closer to me and I try to make her more comfortable. I would give anything in this world to see her in my arms like this every day.

"You're welcome. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Emilia," I say, walking out of the restaurant with my sleeping beauty.

I gently place her in the back seat and let her head rest on my thigh after I settle in next to her. Pushing her black hair away from her face as the car starts to move, I think about taking her home, but I know her father will kill me if he sees me. My place it is then. I know it's not the best idea, but I can handle Delilah's wrath far more easily than her dad's.

***

After we get to my apartment, I lay her on the bed and pull the covers over Delilah's body, tucking her in properly. I thought about changing her clothes, but I also want to live past tomorrow morning, so I decided not to. I change into my pajama pants and hop into bed beside her. I know Delilah will kill me when she wakes up and finds herself beside me, but I'm ready for that as long as I get to sleep beside her again for one more night. I've missed her scent and can't pass such an opportunity up after seven years. I pull her close to my chest and wrap my arms around her, taking a deep breath as her scent surrounds me, and my heart slows its rhythm.

"You don't know what I would do to have you in my arms every day like this, Delilah." I whisper as I rest my head above hers. It's as if she hears me because she moves closer to my bare chest and snuggles her body against mine in response. "I love you," I say, kissing Delilah's forehead before closing my eyes.