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Sixty Five
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His Games, Her Rules One
“Robyn, working many shifts and trying to avoid the real world is not going to get you laid. You need to get out and have fun and since today is my birthday, you don’t have any excuse.” My best friend and roommate, Monique, rants on the phone as I listen to her chirpy voice through the earbuds in my ears. I want to argue with her and point out for the millionth time that I’m okay the way I am and that I don’t need a man, but instead, I clamp my mouth shut. There is no point. Because I’m going to go home and Monique will be there to remind me how I’m not getting laid enough. So instead, I do what’s best for my brain right now, which means not arguing with her as I fill out my report. “Sure thing, Mom. I hear you.” “Are you being sarcastic again?” Monique asks. I can picture her smirking with her forefinger in between her lips, biting the nail. “Something like that.” I chuckle. “Look, I gotta go. I have got work to do and right now you’re not being helpful.” “Robyn—“ I smile. “Yeah
His Games, Her Rules Two
I catch my breath inside my car as I shut it down. I’m in the parking lot of my apartment building, head leaning against my car seat. I’m stressed out of my mind due to the overtime I’ve been working at the hospital.Today is Monique’s birthday and I have to be there for her. I unlock my car, with the cake and my handbag in my right hand and the birthday present on my left as I shut the door with my foot.I walk into the lobby, greet the doorman, and head straight to the elevator. I press open the elevator as I step inside and press my floor button. The elevator rides up as I lean against the wall, tapping my feet on the floor impatiently. The elevator slides open and I step out, almost running into someone.“Shit.” I curse.“I’m so sorry.” A masculine voice says.I balance the things I’m carrying as I look up. Tyler stands in front of me, dressed in his signature bad-boy clothes.“Hello, Tyler,” I say, plastering up a small smile.“You’re just coming back from work.” Isn’t that obvio
His Games, Her Rules Three
“This is the venue?” I ask Monique, looking out the tinted window of her Maserati.“Yup. Doesn’t look like it, right?” She asks as she unfastens her seatbelt. “The real shit happens at the top. Come on.” She tilts her head to the left as she unlocks the door.I expel a breath as I open my side door and step outside. I shut the door after me as I try to balance my clutch under my armpit while pulling down my bodycon dress. Tonight I made sure not to over-dress. I’m wearing a red corset dress, with a Vneck and a spaghetti strap, with matching white heels and a white clutch. Monique wears a strapless dark blue sequin dress that stops mid-thigh. Her black heels are with straps that are perfectly wrapped around her toned legs, matched with a black bag. Her braids are securely wrapped in a perfect bun.Damn, she looks really pretty.We walk into the lobby side by side as we head to the elevator. “Are you nervous?” Monique asks as we ride the elevator.“I’m not.” And that’s the truth.I’m f
His Games, Her Rules Four
I stare harder, trying to lie to myself that there’s no way the universe can make us meet again after I hit his car. But, fuck no. The universe has other plans because he raises his head and our eyes lock for a long second, recognition embracing his facials.Fuck. It’s him. It’s definitely him. Just when I thought I was going to have a normal life, I hit a rich man’s car and ran away and then I had to run into him at a celebrity’s party.Aren’t I the luckiest girl in the world?With our eyes still locked in an intense battle, he raises his eyebrows, scowling at me like I’m a rebellious child. I look away, knowing nothing good is going to come out of that look as I throw my head back and gulp my entire drink.I need to get out of here.“Wow, now slow down, lady.” A masculine voice says beside me. I place my empty glass of drink in front of me and turn toward the source of the voice.Omar Sharif. He’s a Hollywood actor, a hotshot for a while until someone new and hotter overtook his th
His Games, Her Rules Five
“Okay. Tell me everything again, word for word.” Monique says on Saturday morning. We’re both in the living room in our pajamas with Monique standing in front of me like she wants to give a lecture. Last night, after that strange encounter with ‘him’, I texted Monique that I was leaving. I had to leave. I couldn’t stay there one minute with him on the other side of the room watching me. Throughout the night I could feel his eyes on my body, to the point it became weird.There was nothing pure about the way he looked at me last night. It was nothing like Omar Sharif’s look but they sure had the same meaning. A woman clung to his arm throughout the night, whispering things I couldn’t comprehend but obviously knew the meaning.Monique had texted me back that I should leave without her and that we would meet at home. That was when I knew my friend had ditched me to hook up with a rando. I booked a ride, drank two more shots, and left the party feeling agitated.“I already told you everyt
His Games, Her Rules Six
“Heard about the party that’s coming up next weekend?” Tiwa asks, tying up her short dreadlocks into a ponytail.“What party?” I ask. I’m always the last one to find out about what’s going on in this hospital. And every time, Tiwa is the one who gets to tell me what’s going on, what’s about to happen, and what has already happened in this hospital.Tiwa is Nigerian, with a light brown chocolate complexion and natural dark, red lips. She’s not that tall, almost the same height as me and she’s really friendly. We hit it off immediately when we saw each other a few years ago, and we’re like best buds in this hospital. She’s a registered nurse now. We first met when she was a practical nurse but she’s now a fully registered nurse.Tiwa left Nigeria about 8 years ago to study nursing and to work as a nurse in the United States and finally, she’s living her dreams and I’m happy for her.“I know you love working as a nurse and I know you’re oftentimes occupied, but I feel like you’re overwor
His Games, Her Rules Seven
My lunch sits on my table cold and sad looking as I go through my phone, reading several articles about Dominique Gray and his Enterprise. There are not a lot of articles concerning his life or his personal life, except that he's 32 years old and he was born and raised in New York by an Italian mother and a father of French and American descent. I’ve read countless articles about him and nothing is interesting about his life other than the fact that he’s wealthy and he owns a lot of properties in the state and across the country. I skip through several pictures of him in different custom-made expensive suits, wondering how on earth he’s 32 years old. This man looks like he’s 28 and I can’t spot any imperfections on his face in his pictures and even in real life. He actually looks better in real life than in pictures, I’m going to give him that.Even in pictures, the man doesn’t smile much. You can tell there’s so much hiding behind that nonchalant and stoic look when you stare at him.
His Games, Her Rules Eight
One thing St. José’s staff are pretty good at is throwing good hospital parties. Ever since I started working here, St. José has thrown at least five parties to commemorate different events, I’ve only attended one, thus making the second time I’m gracing one of their parties.For a girl who lived an extravagant life and a life of luxury, I find parties like this boring. Actually, I find almost every party boring except the type where I had to hit the club on the weekends with my girls singing and getting drunk. There’s nothing fun about parties like these. There’s just talking, drinking, laughing at old boring jokes, more talking, and maybe two people flirting, and there is the part where you have to pretend like you’re having the best time of your life.I push my hair to the side, letting it fall on my shoulder as I listen to Noah talk about hospital gossip. He already had Monique hooked as she smiled and laughed at whatever thing he was telling her. Tiwa is going through her phone,
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