We all play games, whether we admit it or not. Women play hard to get. And men–yes, there are some men who play games out there–play harder to keep. The game Troy played with me was one that I could have never been ready for.
I met Troy randomly one night on the train. I was wearing no makeup, my hair was in a messy nest atop my head and I’m pretty sure my pants didn’t reach my ankles. But Troy saw something he liked anyway. He broke away from his homeboys and walked over to me.
“Excuse me miss?” He approached me shortly after I walked on the train and found a seat at the opposite end of the train from where he was. “I don’t mean to bother you, well actually I do. I just had to. You’re so beautiful,” he smiled at me and put out his hand, “I’m Troy.”
There’s so many women who refuse to engage with men who randomly approach them and there are times when I don’t. However, if a good looking man has the confidence to approach me and the attraction is mutual, I’ll give him a moment of my time. It can be scary because these people are strangers and you never quite know their intentions, but there have been many times when these approaches have ended up with me having a boo.
That’s how it happened with Troy. I looked at at him, annoyed because I had to take out my earphones in order to hear him, and then I subsequently engaged in conversation –mostly because I’m shallow. And Troy was boyishly handsome.
Troy looked down at me smiling and I was pulled in by his icy blue eyes. He looked Middle Eastern, but the pools of blue in his eyes threw me all the way off.
The conversation was clunky at best, but he kept trying to engage, “North Carolina’s got some good schools. Which one did you go to?”
Right before my stop on the train, I put my number in Troy’s phone. “Hopefully you know how to use that,” I laughed at my own joke and walked off the train. Troy stood there as the doors closed, watching me walk away.
The conversations got increasingly better as Troy and I connected almost daily. He would tell me about his parents and how he hoped to find someone like his father found his mother, he longed for children, a home, a stable slice of the American dream and I told him how I wanted all of that, but not before I traveled the world, had at least one crazy night with Rihanna and became friends with Oprah. We laughed, we supported one another and we were smitten.
Within months of dating, Troy and I decided to make things official. He was so refreshing. He had his own life, working as a brand manager for a clothing line, so he was always running here, there and everywhere, dragging me along to parties, introducing me as his queen and all–Troy had me wrapped tight.
Then on one date night, everything changed.
Troy planned the evening, so all I had to do was show up. He told me to take a cab to a certain address and he would take care of it when I got there. The cab pulled up to the address and I didn’t recognize the space. It was a building–not a restaurant, bowling alley, bar or any other date night spot, but a building.
I called Troy so that he could come down and pay for the cab. He didn’t pick up. I called again. Voicemail. The cab driver was losing his patience, so I paid and got out. I called Troy again and again, he didn’t pick up. As soon as I was ready to sigh, I heard, “Hey baby, sorry about that. I was coming down and I left my phone upstairs.”
He came over to hug and kiss me. “You took a cab?” He patted his pockets. “I told you I got it.”
“It took you too long to come down, so I paid,” I said, trying to take the attitude out of my voice.
“Damn, I left my wallet upstairs too,” Troy said grabbing my hand. “I owe you baby.”
“You sure do,” Troy led me to the building and I almost forgot that I was confused. “What is this place?”
“Oh, it’s my homie’s work space. We’re finishing up a meeting and then me and you are out,” Troy said walking me into the elevator.
“I could have just met you later,” I said, honestly curious about being in the space.
“Yeah, but then you wouldn’t have been able to meet my boy and see this dope sh-t we’re working on,” Troy smiled and placed those happy lips on mine.
I was skeptical, but meeting Troy’s homie was actually pleasant. He was smart, funny and insightful. Our chemistry was almost as strong as Troy’s and mine. But then again, it could have very well been the Hennessy we all were sipping. Well, mostly them because I don’t like Henny. Also, Troy’s homie was giving me vibes that I wasn’t so sure I liked. He was sweet, but almost too sweet.
An hour meeting morphed into a couple of hours of us in the rugged space, laughing and talking. Troy and I were hugged up on a leather couch and Troy’s homie stood up and said, “That’s picture perfect. Let me get in there.”
Troy’s homie giggled as he sat down on the couch, “Now it’s perfect,” Troy said.
I shot Troy a look. He squeezed my thigh and mouthed, “He’s harmless.”
Troy’s homie asked me, “Danielle, do you like girls?”
I laughed, “Why do you ask?”
“Why does anyone ask anything? We want to know,” Troy laughed. Troy’s homie laughed.
“Danielle, do you like men?” Troy’s homie asked, moving closer to me on the couch.