by Heather Rae
The cosmetology program was a breeze for me. I was talented with the hot comb and could braid a head full of hair in record time. I aced all my exams and practicums thus far. When I walked in to the school’s salon, a line of people was usually waiting for me. I felt good and kept positive thoughts that things would get better for Kiandre and me. I just had to trust in my struggle; the size of the blessing to come was unknown.
Word of mouth had been the sole source of advertising for the cleaning services. Our performance in the six-story building had been noticed by the owners and businesses housed inside. Now we had a medical group consisting of 150 doctors and specialists, as well as a group of lawyers. The company was doing well. Life was finally manageable.
“You look good, Nikkia.” A faint smile played at Dre’s lips.
I sat down in the faded arm chair and folded my arms across my chest. It was the one time I had given in and allowed him to visit with Kiandre at my apartment.
“Don’t even go there, Dre.” I ignored the compliment.
“Most people say thank you after someone says something nice to them.” He shook his head.
“Right, and most people are sincere and have no ulterior motives.”
“Why you assume somethin’, Kia?”
“Because I know you.”
“How long has it been, hmm? You know I can give you what you need. Maybe put your ass in a better mood.” He grinned and stood. “For old time’s sake.”
“I’m good, thanks. Now I think it’s time for you to go.”
I pushed myself out of the chair, strode across the room and flung the door open. He laughed and rolled his eyes. I caught his arm as he stepped across the threshold.
“You need to slow down, Dre. I say this because we were once friends. There was a time I loved you with all I had. If this is what you want your life to be, watch yourself. You’re too visible.”
“You never used to complain about the good life.”
“Yes…yes I did. You just never listened to me.” I stared up into his handsome face. “I hope you’ll listen to me now. Be smart, Dre.”
I closed the door, turned the locks and slid the chain into place. I flopped onto the couch and exhaled heavily. I cared what had happened to him; but the moment I looked up into his eyes, I felt no stirrings. No butterflies in flying about my belly and no insane physical attraction. I was changing, but one thing would always remain the same - I was an intelligent woman AND a cop’s daughter. Strong & determined, lacking the intuition.
I had befriended one of the lawyers from the offices I cleaned. His name was James Michaels, an older white man with gray temples and short black hair. He was married, with several grown children and grandchildren. One evening he was working late when I entered his personal office to clean.
“What do you dream about, Nikkia?” he asked.
“I used to dream about love, fairytales, and being a doctor, but just like people, dreams change,” I replied as I pulled the trash from the garbage can.
“Just because you hit a few bumps in life does not mean you have to give up your dreams or your goals,” he said and closed a file, slid it into his briefcase.
“Well, I have a daughter to provide for and raise. I just want to be able to do that successfully. Reality versus dreams, Mr. Michaels…” I shrugged my shoulders and gave him a weak smile.
“You are a smart young lady.”
“Yes sir.”
“Do you attend college?”
“Like I said, I went a different way. I have actually just completed my training for cosmetology, I’m just waiting to take my test. I am also a manager of Cleaning Services.”
“You plan to work two jobs once you have your license?”
“Yes sir, at least until I figure out which will earn me the most income for myself and my daughter.”
“I see. I truly wish you the best, young lady.”
“Thank you, sir. I hope you have a great weekend.”
“You do the same. Make time for yourself and that little girl of yours.”
This conversation took place nearly three months ago, and many more like this occurred since that time, often on Friday evenings, lasting about an hour. Last week he invited me and Kiandre to his home for Sunday dinner with his family, which I declined.
“I understand, Nikkia, but you are more than welcome to join us at any time,” he said and gathered up his briefcase.
“Why would you invite me?” I couldn’t help from narrowing my eyes as I looked him over.
“I think you are a nice young lady that may have made some mistakes along the way. We all have. There are good still good people in this world that genuinely cares and want to see others succeed.” His blue-green eyes were warm with compassion.
“One day, Mr. Michaels,” I conceded.
“Our time is never promised, Nikkia.” He stopped at the doorway. “Think about a business plan for your own salon, the type of clientele you would like to provide services to, what those services would be and what makes you different from other salons. Write that plan then allow me to help you.”
I had never thought about having my own salon, but he had planted the idea. Slowly it had started to grow on me.
This was supposed to be my weekend off. Dre’s mother had offered to take Kiandre for the weekend so that I could have a little down time. I was looking forward to not having to chase behind Kiandre and some long overdue silence.
I had a stack of books on the coffee table pertaining to business proposals, plus a new mystery novel I had checked out from the library. It was my sole intent to write this business plan, but fate saw differently for me as the telephone rang. Julie, one of the girls that cleaned the law offices, had a sick baby at home.
“It’s okay, Julie. I’ll take care of the offices this evening. I hope the baby feels better soon,” I said and groaned as I went to change my clothes.
I exited the elevator at the 3rd floor. It was nearly 5:00 and most of the office doors were closed. The reception area was vacant except for a man that wandered around the waiting area. He stood about six-feet-two and muscular built with wide shoulders. His dress shirt was slightly wrinkled in the back, but appeared to be made of high quality fabric; pale pink in color, silk tie, and a neat, fresh, low cut fade. He carried himself like he was important, but it was clear he was lost.
“Can I help you find someone?” I asked as the elevator doors pinged behind me.
He turned to face me. His dark eyes roamed slowly over me before settling on my face. He then flashed a brilliant smile.
“Hi, I’m looking for James Michaels’ office. Do you know where that is?”
Oh my, I thought. Deep, mellow and a grown man swagger.
“I’m headed over there; I’ll show you the way.”
I walked on ahead of the man, catching a whiff of his cologne. He smelled delicious. I rolled my eyes and knocked on a solid wooden door.
“Come on in.”
I turned the brass knob and pushed the door open.
“Nikkia! What are you doing here today?”
“Had a call-off,” I shrugged. “There’s a gentleman looking for you.”
“Oh great. You sure you don’t want to be my personal assistant?” he laughed.
“I’ll pass,” I responded and laughed as well. “Have a good weekend, Mr. Michaels. I’ll start on the other side so as not to disturb you.”
I passed by the man that reminded me of Morris Chestnut. As I quietly pulled the door closed, I realized I needed to get a life. I shook my head. Time to get to work.
I popped my headphones into my ears and set my playlist to shuffle before stretching the gloves over my hand with a snap. Cleaning the offices wasn’t a difficult task. You empty trashcans, dust, and vacuum and wipe everything down with a cleaning sanitizer.
Menial maybe, but not overwhelming. The folks in the offices were nice like Mr. Michaels, when our paths actually crossed. I went a little above and beyond, making sure their offices we
re ready for their morning arrival. The kitchens and break areas were clean, stocked and coffee was ready to brew. Their offices were fragrant with various plug-ins to take away from the sometimes sterile feel.
Work progressed quickly while R&B hits blared in my ears. I worked not only quickly but efficiently. Hips swaying, I polished the wooden tables in the reception area until they gleamed. I rearranged the magazines in a spread as I danced, unaware that I had a small audience.
I turned around midway through my own personal rendition of “Drop It like It’s Hot”. My mouth fell open in a wide ‘O’, as I snatched out my earphones, embarrassed.
“I, um, am so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” the stranger smiled brightly.
“I thought at this hour, no one else was here.” I glanced at Mr. Michaels, feeling terrible.
“I adore your vibrancy, Nikkia,” the older man laughed. “Try to work on that plan this weekend.”
“Yes sir. You have a great weekend.”
“You too. Are you almost done?”
“Just your office is all I have left.”
“Okay. I’d really like to look at what you come up with on Monday.”
“Yes, sir. I appreciate it.”
“No worries. You deserve a break, Nikkia.”
The elevator doors slid open and I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder at the two men. I gave them a smile before they were closed off.
I finished off the office of the attorney whom I’d come to admire and respect. I then stored all my supplies and made sure the floor and doors were secure before calling for the elevator.
“Have a good weekend, Nikkia!” one of the security guards called out as I passed through the lobby.
“Thanks, Joe. You do the same.” I pulled the zipper up on my hoodie and went through the spinning glass doors.
It was the start of autumn. There were pleasant days with cool evenings, but it wouldn’t last long, that much was for sure. I removed my ear buds from my pocket then froze as the sound of my name travelled through the wind.
“Nikkia! Wait!”
I turned around to find the stranger from Mr. Michaels’ office headed in my direction. I squared my shoulders and continued walking towards him, right into the lion’s den.
“Lost again?” I asked.
“No, I didn’t introduce myself,” He spoke smoothly.
“No, but then again there wasn’t really a need for you to. You’re a client of Mr. Michaels and I am the cleaning lady.” I cocked my head at him.
“Oh, wow. I wasn’t expecting that,” he laughed.
“Yes I’m sure you weren’t. I hope you have a great weekend.”
I stepped around him and continued down the street. I turned the corner only for him to fall into step along side of me.
“So you stalk women?”
“No, they usually stalk me.”
He laughed and bumped his elbow into my arm. I stopped abruptly and stared up at him.
“What is it you want? I don’t know you, nor do you know me.”
“I’d like to though. I’m Tavius. Are you always this rude when meeting a potential boyfriend?”
“Ha! That’s funny!” I laughed hard and shook my head. “Not interested.”
“Okay, maybe I was pushing it with boyfriend,” he smiled but was not deterred. “How about friend?”
“Right.”
I turned another corner, thinking he would back off but as I continued down the street, so did he. I crossed at the corner and strode up to the Waffle House. Since I had a little bit of cash on me and no one at home, I figured I’d treat myself to coffee and breakfast food, hoping the well-dressed man went about his business.
I walked in and found myself a small table in the corner. I smiled at the waitress as she approached.
“Coffee, please.”
“Make that two, darlin’.”
I glanced up and shook my head at this man.
“I believe this borders stalking and harassment.”
“Nope. I mean you no harm.”
“I’m sure you have more important things you can be doing than sitting at the local Waffle House with a woman you don’t know.”
“Nawl, not really. Can I sit with you, Nikkia?”
I should have said HELL NO. People were crazy! Just because he dressed well did not mean a thing, but it had been so long since I had been in the company of someone else, let alone a man.
I rolled my eyes and gestured at the empty bench across from me. He shrugged out of his suit jacket then sat opposite from me. He extended his hand over the top of the scarred tabletop. The diamond cufflink flashed in the light, and the Rolex wrapped around his wrist did not go unnoticed.
“My name is Tavius Jones.”
“Nikkia Miles,” I responded and grasped his hand in a firm shake.
His brow arched at me with dark eyes, laughing.
“Nice to meet you, Miss Miles.”
He maintained a hold on my hand for a moment until I relaxed. His was warm, free of any callouses. Suddenly I felt awkward and withdrew as our coffees were brought to us.
“So you come here often?” he asked and reached for two pink packets.
“No,” I lied. “You?”
“I live on the other side of town, but this place has the best coffee. You live far from here?” he asked while preparing his coffee.
“I don’t live far.”
“Are you a native to the area? Funny, I’ve never seen you around.”
“Born and raised. I have responsibilities.”
“Don’t we all? But you still have to go out and have fun sometimes.”
“Yeah, well,” I shrugged.
“You know, you’re a beautiful woman.”
“Thanks.”
It had been such a long time since a man said I was pretty, let alone beautiful. I couldn’t help but appreciate the compliment even though I was sure it was some type of line. I was not actually dressed to impress.; sneakers, tee shirt, jeans and a hoodie weren’t exactly attire one donned in the hopes of snagging a man, especially one dressed in a suit. It was obvious the man had money. He was definitely not in my league had I been interested, and I wasn’t.
“So you don’t have a boyfriend?”
“I don’t need one.”
“Ha!” he laughed and leaned back in the booth. “Strong, independent black woman, eh?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“That’s what you mean though. I asked a simple yes or no question, Nikkia.” He lifted the coffee mug to his full lips.
“No, I don’t have a boyfriend. I am not looking for one, nor do I need one.” I smirked.
“I respect that, but forgive me because I hope to change your mind.”
“Yeah okay.” I waved at the waitress. “I’ll take the All Star platter, eggs scrambled with cheese, sausage, cheese grits, and a waffle please.”
Ignoring the menu, the man stared at me with eyes boring into my mind until I almost shifted in my seat.
“Make that two, darlin’.” He lifted his coffee cup to his mouth and smiled. “I’m gonna make you my lady by the New Year.”
“Oh lawd Jesus!” I laughed.
“I’m dead serious, watch me,” he winked.
Forget walking into the lion’s den, I was about to dance with the devil.
~~6~~
Tavius insisted on picking up the check after we finished our meal. He left a hefty tip tucked under his coffee mug. I was sure the waitress would be talking about his for the rest of her shift. As he thumbed through a wad of high bills to cover the amount, I mentally hushed the chatter in my brain.
I just met the man. He obviously had wealth. It was not right of me to already accuse him, even if it was in my thoughts, of doing something illegal. He could be a businessman. His family could be billionaires. Hell, he could have won the lottery for all I knew.
Tavius pushed the door open and waited for me to exit the diner. Outside the wind was kicking up whi
le the temperature continued to drop, so I pulled the hood up over my wild curls.
“Thanks for the coffee and food,” I said while mentally preparing myself for the short walk home.
“You’re more than welcome. Thank you for the company and conversation.”
Tavius caught my hand in his and squeezed it warmly, and then he turned away and strode off into the night. I waited until he was out of sight before I turned to my left and in the direction of what was home.
Once I made it home, I was chilled completely to the bone. I turned the thermostat up to 80 degrees and put a pot of water on the stove to boil. I stripped off my clothes and stood under the hot spray of water before dressing in flannel pajamas.
My tea steeped while I sat on the middle of the couch. I picked up one of the small how-to books and thumbed through the chapters. I scribbled on the small legal pad as I scanned the information contained within the pages. It was nearly three in the morning when my eyes had become so heavy they would no longer stay open.
I woke the next morning at my normal 7am. Being that I was so accustomed to running on fumes, my internal clock refused me the luxury of sleeping in. While my coffee brewed, I got dressed and moved everything I had been working on to the kitchen table. I scrambled up some eggs and made some toast.
To fuel the brain, you needed to fuel the body and since talking with Mr. Michaels, I was determined to get my life back on track no matter what it takes. I was smart, talented, and had heart. Yeah I made mistakes. What mattered now was that I was focused and determined.
For the rest of my weekend, I did nothing but read. What constituted a business plan? Is the question I continued to ask myself. From what I had read, estimated costs of start-up, suitable property, marketing and advertising, tools needed, and of course projected income to be made, were some items to consider.
It had been about four years since I read anything this mentally stimulating, and I drank the information in greedily. You can’t take the nerd or geek out of this girl! Some would probably think business would be boring, but it had fascinated me. Plus, it was much safer than what I had been around in the not so distant past.