Wednesday, July 13, 2011
The Kyla Chronicles: Showtime At The Edge
I'd just gotten off from work and couldn't wait to get home. I was pushing my X5 down the FDR like it was Kit from Nightrider, Beyonce's "Party" blaring in the background. I had so much to do as Tristan was coming home from a two month tour with Jill Scott. I needed to get to BK. And quick. I had a lot to do and was pressed for time .I wanted everything to be just right for our reunion. I missed him so much it hurt and seeing him was the only remedy. I'd constantly wondered if he'd missed me as much, since we hadn't spoken as frequently as we normally had when he was on tour. Tristan was a backup singer and he toured with different artists. This month, it was Jill Scott. Next month was anyone's guess. He was good - actually he was great - and therefore steadily booking gigs. He had dreams of becoming the headliner, but he figured the background was at least a step in the right direction.
At first it was intriguing and kinda sexy to be dating a musician. But after too many nights alone with BOB (my battery operated boyfriend), life with the next big thing didn't seem too attractive. I figured if I was having this much trouble when he was touring as back-up, how would I feel when he was touring the world on his own merit? And what would that mean for our relationship? I didn't really see myself as the roadie type. I had dreams of my own and I was well on my way. Along with the fact that we were approaching three years and he still hadn't proposed, I wasn't sure where our relationship was headed. The fact that we were in a committed relationship was keeping me from venturing out, but I admit I often had doubts about our future. I mean I'm no slouch and getting a man isn't hard. I'm chocolate, about 5'7, with long black hair that could be considered cooly, with ass for days. What? I'm just saying. I have my fair share of suitors but my loyalty and my love for Tristan keeps them at bay. Damned morals.
I pulled off the Williamsburg bridge onto Broadway heading straight for the supermarket to pick up a few last minute items for the dinner I'd be serving up. Among other things. I hurried home and started preparing for our romantic evening. It had been a while for me, so I wanted to make sure everything was perfect. I walked into my condo at The Edge, a luxury apartment building over looking the East River. I quickly popped some Cornish Hens in the oven that I'd seasoned the night before, put a can of Sylvia's collard greens (judge if you want but them Sylvia's greens are the business and they definitely go down) on the stove, and I threw on some yellow rice.
I poured myself a glass of Robert Mondavi Pinot Noir and turned on the shower, after texting Tristan to make sure we were still on schedule. It was around seven and I wasn't expecting him until nine, so I had plenty of time to get my look just right. I'd gotten my hair done the day before in a doobie...just how he liked it. I wrapped it up and hopped in the shower. I'd bought a new outfit the week before from La Perla and a new black pair of lace up Giuseppe's. I hung my ensemble for the night over the door in the bathroom, and hopped in. He was never gonna want to tour again after tonight, or so I told myself. Wishful thinking of course, but it sounded good.
After winding down, and clearing my head under my shower's perfect pressure, I got out. I checked my phone and saw a message from Tristan that read: I'll be there around 9 Babe. Can't wait to see you. Love you. Right on schedule. Just what I like to hear. I'd waited long enough to see him and I was beyond anxious. I threw on my silk robe, and went to check on the food. The aroma hit me before I'd even made it to the kitchen, solidifying the fact that everything was as it should be. After a quick peek in the oven, and a stir of my side dishes, I went back to my bedroom and began to moisturize with Olive Oil Body Wrap. I dusted myself with bronzer from Bliss and spritzed some Victoria's Secret Berry Shimmering Body Mist everywhere I should (even the unmentionable places). I was gonna be smooth and golden, looking like a black Oscar statue up in there. Well, except my name is Kyla and my body has way more curves than Oscar.
I put on my black and silver La Perla set and topped it off with a black sheer teddy, laced up my shoes, walked over to the vanity in my bathroom and began to apply my make up. That night I was going for sexy seductress so the makeup would be a smoky eye with a sexy matte red lip. After applying the finishing touches to my eyes, and making sure the red on my lips was just red enough, I took my wrap down and took a good look in the mirror. Damn I looked good. I went into the kitchen and took out the food. I made our plates, lit some candles on the dining room table, and turned on Allure's "When The Shades Go Down". I looked over at the clock on the stove and it read 8:47. Thirteen more minutes til Tristan. I couldn't wait. For more reasons than one. I poured his glass, grabbed mine, dimmed the lights and went over to lie down on the couch.
Just then, as I took a sip from my glass, I heard the keys jingle in the door. He was early. But it was Showtime and it couldn't have come sooner....
To Be Continued......