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and rolled out, I was semi-relieved—it had become painfully obvious that the relationship really wasn’t going anywhere. We were definitely not compatible in any way, shape, or form. I liked football. He liked basketball. I liked horror films. He liked comedies. I liked to have sex three times a day. He liked to have sex three minutes a day. It just wasn’t working out.
    Yet and still, I did miss the companionship. That’s why I made the decision to make the fifty-minute drive to the state university three nights a week to take a night class about business development. I had always wanted my own business but had never gotten around to starting one. I figured if I ever did, I would at least know the basics.
    The first night of the class was straight-up boring. Professor Taylor spent half the class time bragging about all of his accomplishments. I was thinking to myself, Yeah, right! If you’ve accomplished so damn much, why are you teaching night school instead of sitting on the beach somewhere collecting 20 percent?
    After he finally finished yapping, he let us spend the rest of the time introducing ourselves to the other classmates. Since my name is Shameika Zales, I knew I had plenty of time to gather thoughts in my head so I’d sound intelligent when I did run my little bio down.
    At twenty-six, I was actually younger than most of the class, which totally surprised me. Most of them were in their late thirties, forties, or fifties. Either that, or some of them looked old as shit. I swear one man had to be a hundred ninety, maybe a hundred ninety-one.
    One thing I ascertained from listening to them all speak was that they had been out in the corporate world, worked their asses off to build up someone else’s corporation, and were just damn sick of making money for other people. I guess it just took them some time to realize it. I decided right then and there that I wouldn’t find myself in that situation ten years down the road—wishing I had made a change earlier on.
    When they got to the P ’s, I perked up in my seat as this finer than fine brother stood up to give us the 4-1-1 on himself. If they were giving out awards for sexiness that night, he would have won hands down. He was about five-nine with caramel skin and a bald head that was glimmering under the overhead lights. I could just imagine rubbing his dome in the heat of passion.
    He grinned directly at me, and I almost creamed in my bloomers. I had taken to wearing big-ass granny bloomers since I was manless. No need to ruin the good stuff on myself.
    Anyway, he grinned at me and then faced Professor Taylor.
    “My name is Thomas Phillips,” he said. “I’m the vice president of marketing for a start-up technology company based here in Kansas. I’m originally from Detroit, and I’ve been living here for about a year. I hope to gain some serious knowledge in this class because knowledge is definitely the key to success.”
    And your dick is the key to my success, I thought wickedly to myself from my third-row seat. I should’ve known that his ass wasn’t from Kansas; they didn’t grow men that fine. I stared at him throughout the rest of the introductions until it was my turn.
    I almost missed hearing my own name when the professor yelled it out. I came around and stood up. I suddenly became conscious of my appearance, and I straightened out the back of my skirt in case it was wrinkled.
    “My name is Shameika Zales, and I currently work for the government as a human resources recruiter. However, my true ambitions lie in starting my own company.” I glanced over at Thomas. “I really want to get into the technology field, since that seems to be the wave of the future.”
    I sat back down in my seat, knowing good and well that technology had never crossed my mind before that night. But I had contemplated opening a catering business, since my ass can burn some damn food. I had considered opening a restaurant but figured a smaller-scale business