“You gyrating to James Brown in the middle of the bathroom with your socks on is way different from what Wesley did. Come get in this car!”
Leon winked a second time then turned to leave.
“Wesley?” his mother called.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Call Kamaya. Fix this.”
He blew a heavy sigh and nodded his head. “Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter 14
As Kamaya pulled up in front of Wesley’s home, she couldn’t miss the luxury Mercedes parked in the driveway. Or the tall blonde woman who stood at the edge of the property peering through the fence into the rear yard. Neither Wesley nor his blue hooptie were anywhere to be seen.
Kamaya stepped out of her own car and gave the woman a look. The two eyed each other, reserve washing over their expressions. Kamaya spoke first.
“Can I help you?”
The blonde woman eyed her from head to toe. “I’m looking for Wesley.”
“I’m his girlfriend. Can I help you?”
“I’m Carrie. I have something to give him.”
Kamaya paused for a quick second. “He’s not home, but you can leave whatever it is with me. I’ll make sure he gets it.”
The woman smiled, her haughty expression prickling Kamaya’s spirit.
“Thanks, but I can’t give it to you,” she said, and then she sauntered past Kamaya to her car. She slid her lean frame into the driver’s seat of that Mercedes, engaged the engine and backed out into the street.
Kamaya felt her mood swing toward annoyance as she watched the woman shift the car into drive and disappear around the corner. She dropped one hand to her hip. Who the hell was that? she wondered. Jealousy wafted from deep in the pit of her stomach. Was Wesley actually entertaining other women already? Had he moved on from their relationship that easily? After thinking the absolute worst and taking a moment to ponder why she was even there, she moved back to her own car and headed back across town.
* * *
Wesley pulled past the wrought-iron gates of the Boudreaux’s Broadway Street home and parked his car. He sat for a few minutes trying to gather his thoughts, hoping that what he was about to do wouldn’t turn out to be a disaster. He had called first, so he knew that Katherine and Senior were expecting him. As he stepped out of his car and engaged the alarm, the front door swung open and Kamaya’s father waved him inside.
“It’s good to see you, son!” the older man intoned. “I hope you’re doing well?”
“I am. Thank you for asking, sir. I appreciate you and your wife taking the time to speak with me.”
“Not a problem at all. It sounded important.”
Wesley nodded. “I’m sure you know I’m not your daughter’s favorite person right now.”
Senior laughed. “Kamaya doesn’t have many favorite people, son! I warned you she’s a hard bird when she wants to be!”
His gut-deep laugh calmed Wesley’s nerves slightly. He smiled and laughed with the man.
“Come on inside and take a seat. I’ll go find my wife!”
“Thank you, sir!”
While he waited, Wesley sat in the living room of the Boudreaux family home, twisting his hands nervously together in his lap. Minutes later, Kamaya’s parents sat on the sofa opposite him, both eyeing him with keen stares. He had been rambling for longer than necessary and knew that he needed to get to the point and explain why he was there. He took a deep breath.
“Mrs. Boudreaux, I want to apologize for what happened the other night. I...well...”
“What happened the other night?” Senior asked, cutting an eye at his wife.
Katherine held up her hand, halting her husband’s comments. “You were working. That, I understand completely. Kamaya should have prepared me and her sisters, but she and I have already had a conversation about that.”
“Prepared y’all for what?” Senior queried.
Wesley and Katherine traded gazes. She gave him a warming smile. “That’s not for me to say, Senior,” she answered.
Senior shifted his gaze toward Wesley. “Well, someone is going to tell me something,” he commanded.
Wesley took a deep breath and swallowed hard. He continued to wring his hands together in his lap. He shook his head slightly before he spoke. “Mr. Boudreaux, the club I own is a male strip club called The Wet Bar.”
“It’s not a jazz bar?”
“No, sir. It’s an adult entertainment business that caters to a professional female clientele.”
“So, y’all are like them boys in New York. Them Chipmunks?”
Katherine laughed. “Chippendales!” she said.
“Y’all are like them Chippendales?” Senior asked.
“Yes, sir.”
Senior shot a look at his wife. “Is that where them girls took you for your birthday? To a strip club?”
Katherine chuckled. “Yes, they did.”
Senior rolled his eyes. He shifted his gaze back to stare at Wesley, his eyebrows raised. “So what happened that you need to apologize to my wife?”
Wesley took another breath. “That night, most of my dancers didn’t show up for work and...well...I had to step in and perform. I wasn’t anticipating Kamaya, or her mother, being there.”
There was a moment of pause and then Senior suddenly burst out laughing. “I bet that was a sight!”
Katherine smiled. “It was something all right.”
Heat tinted Wesley’s cheeks a deep, deep shade of embarrassment. He didn’t bother to respond.
“So that’s why Kamaya’s not talking to you, huh?”
“Yes, sir. She’s not happy with me. I’m praying that she’ll give me an opportunity to explain.”
Senior nodded, his head moving slowly up and down. His hands were folded together in his lap. He gestured toward his wife with his eyes. “Katherine, can you give us a minute, please? I’d like to talk to Wesley, man-to-man.”
“I’ll go fix us all some tea and cinnamon crumb cake,” she said, as she rose from her seat. When she passed by Wesley, she ran a warm palm over his shoulder, the gesture meant to be comforting.
Wesley felt himself sink into the warmth, appreciating the gesture of kindness. As the matriarch disappeared into the kitchen, he locked gazes with Kamaya’s father. His stomach suddenly did a flip and he inhaled swiftly to stall the sudden rise of anxiety that had kicked that comfort to the curb.
Senior stood up, moving to the mantel over the fireplace. He pulled one of their family portraits from its resting spot, taking a quick moment to study the faces of his children. A slow smile pulled at his mouth, and pride and joy shimmered in his dark eyes.
He turned and passed the framed image to Wesley, dropping into the seat beside the young man. He sat silently as he watched as Wesley studied the picture just as he had. The photo had been taken in Italy, when the family had converged on Maremma in Tuscany for Donovan’s marriage to Gianna Martelli. Smiles were abundant as he and his wife sat with all of their children flanking them, a grove of olive trees in the background.
“Son, if you’re lucky, one day you and whoever you marry are going to sit together and look back on those things that brought you together and kept you together. You’re going to laugh about moments that, at the time, you thought would break you, and you’re going to shed a tear or two over memories that kept you holding it all together. You’re going to thank God for your blessings and you’re going to start with your children. I do it every day. Every day.” His smile lifted again as he reached for the picture, pulling it from Wesley’s hands.
“I know that you care about my daughter. And I respect that you were man enough to come here to talk to me and my wife. I wasn’t there to see what happened and that’s probably a good thing. But had my Katherine been offended, she would have told you. She has nev
er been one to bite her tongue, especially if it concerns our children.
“Now, I’m not going to lie to you. You working as a stripper, now or even before, doesn’t sit well with me. And I can’t say that I’m comfortable with my daughter dating a former dancer, or a current one, but my baby girl being happy is more important to me than what you do for a living. If she likes it, I’ll learn to love it! But don’t think I won’t address any concerns I have with you, or her.”
Wesley nodded. “I can appreciate that, sir.”
“Make no mistake about it, Wesley. Katherine and I weren’t born yesterday. Our children may think we’re out of touch, but there is very little that they do, or don’t do, that we don’t know about. We also know that every one of them tries to keep some things secret, and while they might, we know our kids and we know what they need even before they do.
“Kamaya needs a man who’s willing to be her partner, who doesn’t mind allowing her to think that she’s in charge even when she isn’t. A man who’s good to her, first and foremost, and who’s confident enough in himself to not be intimidated by her and her success.
“I think you have the potential to be that man but it’s not something you can rush, son. If you hope to be sitting here one day, talking to some boy about how he loves one of my grandbabies, showing off pictures of you and Kamaya’s family, you just need to take your time in letting things work out. When it should, it will!”
Wesley pondered Senior’s comments for a brief moment and then he nodded his head. “I love her, sir. I love your daughter very much.”
“I know.”
“I’m praying that, when we get past all of this, Kamaya will marry me and that you and Mrs. Boudreaux will give us your approval.”
“You do know that Kamaya is the one child of ours who doesn’t seek out our approval for her choices, don’t you?”
Wesley smiled. “I know that your approval is more important to her than even she realizes. And it’s definitely very important to me, sir!”
Senior extended his hand. The two men shook. “Smells like my Katherine done took that cake out of the oven!” The scent of cinnamon, vanilla and sugar danced through the air.
* * *
Kamaya stomped into her mother’s kitchen, her attitude following her. She slammed her body down onto one of the cushioned chairs, thoughts of the woman she’d seen at Wesley’s house still irritating her nerves.
“Excuse me?” Katherine snapped, a hand falling against the line of her full hips.
“Sorry,” Kamaya apologized. “I wasn’t trying to be rude. Good afternoon!”
“Good afternoon. I was starting to think that you forgot all of your home training!”
“No, I just...well...” Kamaya blew a soft sigh. “I’m frustrated and I don’t know what to do,” she finally said, telling her mother about her visit to Wesley’s home.
Katherine laughed. “Kamaya, you are redefining the term drama queen! What is wrong with you, baby?”
Tears suddenly misted Kamaya’s eyes. “I don’t know, Mama. I really don’t know. I just can’t seem to get it together lately.”
“Is this about Wesley?”
Kamaya shrugged. She dropped her head, her chin grazing her chest. “I miss him,” she finally whispered. “But I’m still mad at him.”
“What are you actually mad about?”
“I don’t know. I know he wasn’t trying to hide the fact that he danced from me. In fact, I know he tried hard to tell me before he did it but...we...” She shrugged her shoulders and blew another sigh.
“You were jealous. You were jealous that your man made quite the impression on a room full of women who got to see him in a way you didn’t like.”
Kamaya shrugged again. “It was that and it’s...well...” She hesitated a second time, lifting her gaze to meet her mother’s. “I love him. But I don’t want to love him and be afraid that what we do for a living is going to be a problem for us in the long run.”
“Have you been honest with him, Kamaya? Have you told him how you feel?”
Kamaya shrugged her narrow shoulders one more time. “He knows. I may not have said all the words everyone else thinks I should say, but he gets me.”
Her mother shook her head. “Your daddy and I have worried about all of you kids. We used to be afraid that Tarah was never going to grow up and learn to depend on herself. We worried that Maitlyn would never let her walls down to allow herself be loved. We worried that Mason was always going to put work before everything else. We worried about each of you because that’s what parents do. But you...well...we still worry that you trying to do what you think we want is going to keep you from having the happiness you deserve.”
“I don’t do that. I don’t...”
Her mother shook her head. “Kamaya, since you were a little girl you’ve been trying to walk in everyone else’s footsteps instead of forging your own. You keep your life from us because you’re afraid that you’ll be judged or that we will disapprove. I have been telling you since you were two, just be yourself! Be honest and truthful and just be you! We will always love you no matter what. But a man can’t love you if you don’t let him see who you really are—not what you think he wants to see. If Wesley’s dancing is bothersome to you, then you need to say so. Don’t make it about me or your sisters and how we feel about it.”
“But it doesn’t bother me. Not really.”
“Then you need to ask yourself what’s going on that has you so out of sorts. You need to be honest with yourself if you’re not honest with anyone else.”
Katherine moved back to the counter to check the cake she’d just pulled from the oven. Its decadent aroma swept through the home, teasing Kamaya’s senses. Her mother reached into the cabinets, pulled down a stack of plates and proceeded to set the table for four people.
Kamaya suddenly eyed her mother curiously. “I’m sorry. Are you expecting company?”
Katherine chuckled softly. “Company is already here. Wesley’s in the living room talking with your father. And you’re here. I thought it would be nice for the four of us to sit and have some tea and cake.”
Kamaya’s eyes widened. “Wesley is here? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you would have noticed his car parked in my driveway.”
Kamaya jumped to her feet and moved to the window. Sure enough Wesley’s hooptie was parked across the street in front of the home. She’d been so frantic when she arrived that she hadn’t even noticed. Her eyes skated back and forth, her mind suddenly racing. “I should probably...”
“You should pull some silverware out of the drawer. I’ll let the boys know the tea is ready.”
“But I don’t want...”
Katherine gave her daughter a stern look. She didn’t need to voice the comment seeping from her eyes. Kamaya closed her mouth and reached into the cabinet drawer for four forks and four spoons. She grabbed napkins from a drawer and completed the place settings her mother had started.
Just minutes later Wesley and Senior moved through the kitchen door. “It sure smells good in here!” Senior exclaimed as he moved to his wife’s side and kissed her cheek. He winked at his daughter. “Hey, baby!”
“Hey, Senior.” She tossed a quick look in Wesley’s direction. “Hey,” she said softly.
He smiled as he sauntered to her side. He eased his fingers into her hair and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Hey,” he whispered back, his gaze connecting with hers.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, cutting a quick eye toward her parents, who were both watching them intently.
“I needed to speak with your parents.”
Katherine interrupted the conversation. “Come sit down you two. This cake is still nice and warm. Do either of you want ice cream to go with it?”
Kamaya shook her
head. “No, thank you.”
Wesley grinned. “I would,” he answered. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“No trouble at all!” Katherine replied.
“I’ll take some vanilla ice cream, too!” Senior interjected as he pulled a seat up to the kitchen table.
“Can you please excuse us for a minute?” Kamaya asked, looking from her father to her mother. She grabbed Wesley by the hand. “It’ll only take a minute,” she said as she pulled him along behind her, heading toward the living room.
“I expect that boy to come back here in one piece!” Senior shouted after them. “I mean it, Kamaya!”
Kamaya could hear her mother’s distinct laugher.
* * *
“I’m sorry,” Kamaya said, as she pressed her mouth to Wesley’s, kissing him eagerly.
Wesley kissed her back, folding his arms around her. “So am I,” he said, when they finally came up for air. “I tried to call you, Kamaya. That night. I tried to call to let you know what was going on. I didn’t mean for you to find out like that. I would never intentionally disrespect you or your family. You should know that.”
“I do know. And, I overreacted. But seeing you like that...dancing...well...it...” She hesitated. “It pissed me off!” she said finally. “You swore to me that you would only dance for me and no one else. You promised.”
A slow bend lifted his full lips into a wide smile. “You were jealous?”
“I said I was pissed!” She took a step back from him, folding her arms over her chest. “Don’t make me promises if you don’t intend to keep them. I want to trust you and I can’t if you don’t keep your word.”
Wesley pondered her comment. He turned to stare out the window for a brief moment before spinning himself back toward her. He swept her back into his arms and kissed her again. “I love you, Kamaya, and I swear on everything I hold sacred that I will never again break any promise I make to you. And I won’t make you any promises that I know I can’t keep.”
Kamaya nodded as he continued.
“But I need something from you,” Wesley said. His gaze was direct, searing, as he stared into her eyes. “I actually need two things.”
A Pleasing Temptation Page 16