“I’m ready.”
Tareef waited until he was confident Naomi was behind O’Shea’s closed door before making his way down the adjoined hallway to his office. He and O’Shea had spoken at length about O’Shea’s meeting with Naomi. Under their current circumstances, Tareef knew it was a risk recommending Naomi, not because he didn’t think she was qualified for the job. He knew she was. However, he knew Naomi to be strong and independent. He didn’t want her to perceive any positive response from O’Shea as a representative of Ali International to be seen as a handout from Tareef. He didn’t want Naomi to feel like she was under any obligation to him if, in fact, she landed the position. Although nepotism was a real phenomenon in business, Tareef didn’t want that to be the reason she won the PR bid.
“I hear what you’re saying, bro,” O’Shea reassured. “But if Naomi’s proposal is on point, I’m not going to dismiss her because you referred her.”
“I don’t want that either,” Tareef replied. “It feels like a two-edged sword,” he continued. “No matter the outcome, I could lose either way.”
“True,” O’Shea agreed. “That is the cost of doing business sometimes. Did you nominate her because she was talented and could do the job?”
“Of course,” Tareef defended.
O’Shea smiled, hearing his brother’s tone, which spoke much louder than his words.
“Did you think it all the way through, or were you thinking with your heart?” O’Shea challenged.
As Tareef stood in front of the window looking out, he noticed the billowy clouds that peppered the blue sky juxtaposed against the steel of the hard-surfaced high rises that made up the Atlanta skyline. Tareef had some time to think after the family business meeting ended. Standing there with his large hands shoved down into the pockets of his tailored slacks, Tareef pondered his brother’s question. The quick answer was that he’d thought it through; it was business. Ali International had a need, and he knew someone who could fulfill that need. Yet, the more he considered what O’Shea asked, the more confounded the answer to the question really was. He wanted to do something nice for Naomi. Why, though? That’s the real question. Did he want to impress her because he had influence? Did he want Naomi to reap the benefit of who he was? Had he thought the duality of his suggestion through?
Why though? That’s still the real question.
The answer to the real question was one Tareef wrestled with. There had to be admittance on his part that he felt something for Naomi, more than mere professional courtesy. Reconciling those feelings wasn’t nearly as difficult as trying to convince her, though. Tareef recognized that the way he reacted, in the beginning, set the tone for how Naomi would perceive him in the present. He had to know, though, whether he had a chance to course-correct with her. Tareef wanted that chance. Whether Naomi thought he deserved, it was yet to be determined.
She tried not to freak out when O’Shea reviewed her proposal. Naomi had drawn visuals of the kind of marketing campaign she would put forth for the company’s new line of products. She’d created samples of the various tools she would use to advertise locally, nationally, and internationally. Naomi had also prepared a projection schedule for rolling out the campaign. O’Shea looked interested when she made her initial presentation. He asked good questions that prompted Naomi to think through and consider her responses. O’Shea didn’t make it easy for Naomi, which made Naomi step her game up to meet the challenge. But now the room was quiet as O’Shea studied the visual presentation. Naomi was cognizant of the fact that she was wringing her hands. All she could hope is that Mr. Ali didn’t recognize just how unnerved she was.
It seemed like O’Shea took forever to finally say something. He cleared his throat and lifted his eyes to meet hers. Naomi felt her heart plummet into her belly.
“Ms. Singleton,” he began formally. “I really like what you’ve done here. Your presentation was comprehensive and took into account a number of components that are pertinent to the message we’re trying to convey.”
“I’m glad you appreciate the work, Mr. Ali,” Naomi replied, doing her best to keep her voice level and her tone responsive despite how nerve-wracked she felt.
“As you know, Ali International is a family business. Although I have the authority to approve or disapprove a proposal, I’d like for the team to see what you’ve proposed.”
“I understand,” Naomi answered.
“I am also a man who likes to act swiftly and decisively, so I promise we won’t make you wait long with our response. Can we schedule to have a conversation next Monday, same time?”
“Absolutely, Mr. Ali, and I appreciate the opportunity,” Naomi smiled.
“I see why you were so highly recommended. Your work is impeccable,” O’Shea offered as he rose from his chair. The smile on Naomi’s face remained accepting the compliment without speaking to it.
“Thanks again, Mr. Ali,” was all she had to say about that.
“Let me show you out.”
Naomi nodded her acquiescence as she stood up from her seat. O’Shea escorted her to the door, making sure to open it for her.
“We’ll talk soon.”
“I look forward to it.”
As Naomi made her way down the hall, a figure standing near the waiting area caught her eye. The escalation in her heartbeat was a direct result of Tareef coming into view. He stood there, devilishly handsome, and despite Naomi’s best effort, she couldn’t help but notice his attractive and tempting male physique. As she drew closer, Naomi could feel Tareef’s sharp assessing eyes raking over her frame.
“How did your meeting go?” He crooned as Naomi paused her steps in front of him. That voice, Naomi thought to herself. Tareef’s voice alone was such a panty-dropper. She had to steel herself against a visceral reaction.
“I think it went well,” Naomi replied.
“I’m sure it did,” Tareef commented.
“Did your brother say something to you?”
“He didn’t have to,” Tareef answered. “You’re very talented and very capable, Naomi. I wouldn’t have recommended you otherwise.”
“So, you had no ulterior motives for referring me?” She challenged.
“Honestly, no,” Tareef clarified. “But if I did, would you be offended?”
“Hmm,” Naomi contemplated. “I don’t know yet.”
“I’ll accept that, for now,” Tareef chided.
Their coy banter felt like old times for both of them. It was a comfortable place, each pitting their wit against another. He found intelligence incredibly sexy. He knew Naomi had that kind of quick wit inside, but she didn’t let it show, not to him before and not directly. Tareef witnessed it when Naomi talked to her friends, but she didn’t do that with him. She’d fallen into that space where she was far too accommodating, which was a turnoff for Tareef. This was so much better. He felt like he was talking to the real Naomi
“I don’t know if I thanked you for referring me. That night is such a blur.”
“It’s understandable if you didn’t,” Tareef commented. “There was a lot going on.”
“A lot,” Naomi echoed, flashing back to that time.
“Your mom, is she doing well?” Naomi noticed that when Tareef asked about her mother, his eyes were gentle and contemplative.
“She is much better,” Naomi replied.
“That’s good to hear,” Tareef smiled, his rugged frame towering over Naomi. Her brow pitched as a devilish grin eased across Tareef’s handsome face.
“What?” Naomi asked, curious as to what brought that on.
“Well, I was thinking. If you didn’t thank me before and would like to, I have a suggestion.”
“What’s that?”
Tareef’s eyes brightened with pleasure from her inquiry. It meant she was, at a minimum, intrigued. “Have lunch with me.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now,” Tareef answered. “Unless you have something else on your agenda.”
“No, nothing
else,” Naomi hesitantly admitted, remembering what Racquel said about not coming on too strong.
“So, is that a yes,” Tareef’s velvet voice trilled.
Naomi didn’t answer right away; instead, measuring Tareef with a cool, appraising glance. He couldn’t quite read her expression as she studied him. Tareef maintained eye contact with Naomi, hoping that his connection with the soul of who she was conveyed the right message. And then a slight smile creased Naomi’s full lips, and Tareef felt like he might have a chance. Then she said,
“Yes.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Tareef was relieved by her response, and his smile showed it.
“Can I take that for you,” he asked, pointing to her portfolio case.
“A reason to come back,” Naomi questioned.
“Maybe,” Tareef admitted.
Naomi handed him her portfolio and watched as he left it with the receptionist.
“We’ll pick that up later.”
“Of course, Mr. Ali.”
Tareef’s manner was commanding as he strode back in Naomi’s direction.
“After you,” he suggested, extending a guiding hand toward the hallway that led to the bank of elevators. When Naomi felt his gentle, steady hand near the center of her back, it was familiar and missed, admittedly. Yet, she refused to do what she’d done before, avoiding repetition expecting different results. That didn’t mean Tareef was any less swoon-worthy. It just meant Naomi would have to keep her swooning to herself. She refused to get ahead of herself, though. This was lunch, pure and simple.
When the door to the elevator opened, Tareef ushered Naomi in, using his body to keep the door open as she crossed the threshold. Naomi walked to the back of the elevator and turned on her heels to face the door. She watched as Tareef turned a key closeted in a small compartment before joining her.
“What does that do,” she asked inquisitively.
“It keeps the elevator from stopping until we reach our destination.”
“Oh, perks of being the boss,” Naomi teased.
“Something like that,” Tareef smile.
He stood next to her, closer than close, his form silently stirring her form. The uninhibited descent to the lobby floor was swift. Tareef’s gentleman-like tendencies continued to be displayed through every facet of their trek to lunch. Naomi noticed that when they crossed the street, he guarded her with his body, shielding her from potential danger. When they walked on the sidewalk, Tareef positioned himself closest to the street. When passerby’s were close, he moved even closer to her. Naomi didn’t have to touch a door when Tareef was around.
“Good afternoon Mr. Ali,” the reservationist greeted. “Your usual table?”
“That would be fine, Alfred. Thank you.”
They didn’t have to wait to be seated, although other patrons were waiting. Alfred led the duo to a table near the back of the restaurant right next to a large picture window. Tareef waited until Naomi was seated in the booth before taking his seat across from her.
“Your server will be right out. Enjoy,” Alfred commented.
She consulted the menu, having never eaten in the establishment before. Even though her eyes were downcast, Tareef still studied her. Naomi seemed much more relaxed and much less interested in impressing him, acquiescing to him, concerning herself with him. Naomi’s gentle yet arresting beauty was especially on display. Tareef always found her attractive, but today, her look was ethereal. Naomi carried herself confidently, and Tareef knew she was keenly aware of his appreciative glances evidenced by the rosy coloring of her bronze skin and the beginning of a smile dancing in the corners of her temptingly pouty lips.
“Do you see anything you like?” Tareef asked.
Naomi’s lashes swept down across her high cheekbones as her ecru eyes lifted to find his. She didn’t miss the intentional double entendre and pursed her lips in response.
“Any suggestions,” she sexily quipped. At least it sounded sexy to Tareef, whether it was Naomi’s intention or not.
“I’m fond of the red snapper with pasta and house salad.” The words that spilled from Tareef’s titillating mouth were ordinary, but his enunciation and the way his mouth moved to form those plain words was spectacularly extraordinary.
“Then I’ll have what you’re having.”
Tareef never picked up his menu. Naomi rested hers on top of his as the waiter approached the table.
“Mr. Ali, will you have bottle service this afternoon?”
“I’m not sure,” he responded. “Naomi?”
“Isn’t it a little early for drinks?” She asked.
“I won’t judge,” Tareef smiled.
When she nodded and gave him permission to order for her, Tareef obliged.
“We’ll have a bottle of the Robert Mondavi Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve.”
“Excellent choice, Mr. Ali,” the waiter commented, jotting notes on his pad. “And have you decided on your entrees?”
“The red snapper with house salad.”
“Wonderful. I’ll bring your wine selection immediately with lunch to follow.”
Naomi had questions she wanted answers to. She waited until the wine was poured, and the waiter left the table. Just as she started to ask, Tareef interjected.
“This is a fantastic wine,” he began, lifting the glass to his nose and inhaling deeply. The pitch of his brow suggested encouragement for Naomi to follow suit. She wasn’t much of a wine connoisseur, but she’d watched enough television to recognize the steps to tasting. Following his example, Naomi raised her glass and inhaled. Her eyes widened slightly as the aromatic bouquet filled her nostrils.
“The first time I tasted it was at a family-owned vineyard in the south of France,” Tareef continued, whirling the burgundy liquid in the glass. Naomi swirled her wine in kind.
“The south of France,” Naomi sighed. “Must have been nice.”
“It was,” Tareef replied. “I’d love for you to join me there some time.”
“Really?” Naomi entreated. She set her glass on the table and leaned forward, steepling her hands on the table. “Why? What changed, Tareef?”
It was a fair question, and one Tareef recognized Naomi deserved an answer. Tareef set his glass down as well and gave Naomi the undivided attention she deserved.
“I’ve always found you attractive, Naomi, on every level,” he began. “Those qualities that I recognized and were drawn to from a distance seemed to disappear when we were together.”
“Such as?” Naomi pressed.
“You have a fiery spirit, fierce, strong, compelling, assured. Yet, once we occupied the same space, all of that seemed to fade like you weren’t comfortable being your authentic self around me. You became meek, accommodating, eager.”
“Too eager,” Naomi asserted.
“Yes, beloved,” Tareef acknowledged. “Like too many other women I wasn’t interested in. I don’t know if its people’s perception of me, who they think I am, what they think of my family, I’m not sure. But I don’t want a yes woman standing by my side, you understand? I don’t want someone who only wants what I want, who doesn’t have their own thoughts, opinions, insight. I don’t want an accommodator. I want to be challenged and intrigued and questioned. I want that fiery, fierce, strong, objectionable, compelling self-assured woman I know you are.”
It would have been easy to be offended by what Tareef revealed, yet, Naomi wasn’t. She could see the truth of what he said and recognized herself in both descriptions. And he was right. Before, when she was around him, Naomi became all those things that were out of character for her but what she thought he was used to, what he wanted. Clearly, she’d been wrong.
“So, are you saying you want me?”
There was such sweet innocence in her question. Tareef eased his upturned hand across the table. His eyes followed her until Naomi gently folded her hand in his. That touch was as magical as it had ever been.
“I’ve never not wanted you, beautiful,” Ta
reef crooned. “I just wanted the real you.”
The remainder of the dinner was along the same vein. They talked, clarified, and reconnected. Although, at times, the truth was painful to hear, Naomi appreciated knowing Tareef’s reasons why. She could tell he wasn’t trying to be cruel. He didn’t want to hurt her. Tareef made that clear. Lunch was delicious, and Naomi enjoyed it.
“Can I interest you in taking a walk with me,” Tareef asked, not ready for their time together to end.
“That would be nice,” Naomi admitted.
Tareef rose in one smooth motion. He reached for Naomi’s hand, and when she accepted, their flesh met in a warm clasp, strong enough to lift Naomi to standing yet soft enough to still be caressing. As they moved away from the table, Naomi noticed that they were noticed. She saw in the eyes of the women they passed what Naomi was sure reflected in her own. Tareef’s presence commanded attention, his powerful well-muscled body moving with unexpected grace. Tareef took note of the men they passed and knew that what he saw in Naomi was clearly seen by others, her figure curvy and her air regal. He didn’t let her hand go; instead, his grip was more possessive as they exited the restaurant and stepped out onto the street.
The mid-afternoon summer air was seasonably warm. The slight breeze that lifted Naomi’s natural tendrils from her shoulders helped to cool the day. Being so close to Tareef, though, heated Naomi’s core.
“I was surprised to see you at the trial,” Tareef posited as they strolled along the boulevard.
“I’m sure you were,” Naomi agreed. “And I’m also sure you would like to know why I was there.”
“Only if you want me to know,” Tareef offered.
“I’m sure it’s not what you think,” Naomi quipped with a smile.
“His presence never crossed my mind,” Tareef coyly replied.
“Oh, really?” Naomi giggled. “Well, he who shall remain nameless was not the reason,” she continued. “And for the record, neither were you.”
“Touché,” Tareef smiled.
“It was Jennifer,” Naomi added. “She was the real reason I was there. Admittedly, her case fascinates me.”
Tareef (The Brothers Ali Book 4) Page 16