by Cheryl Faye
“I am,” he responded.
An awkward silence fell over them momentarily as they stood near Charisse’s table. Her father was no longer seated there.
“I like talking to you,” Stefàn suddenly admitted.
“Yeah, you seem pretty cool to talk to, too,” she off-handedly remarked.
Chuckling stoically, he said, “You’re something else.”
“Yes, I am.”
“So do you want to give me your number now or later?”
“Why don’t you give me your information and I’ll meet you at your place.”
Trying to determine if she was playing with him or not, he gazed into warm brown pupils that unabashedly challenged him. Another involuntary chill coursed through his body as they stared each other down.
Finally raising his hands in surrender, Stefàn declared, “You win.” Reaching into the inner breast pocket of his jacket, he removed a business card holder and flipped it open. Taking out one of his cards, he asked, “Would you have a pen, by any chance?”
“Yes, I do.”
She reached for her pocketbook on the table and removed a pen and handed it to him.
“I’ll put my address on the back.”
She sat down at the table and he sat across from her in the empty chair. As he proceeded to write his information, he asked, “Do you know Teaneck?”
“Somewhat.”
When he’d finished, he handed her the card. Looking at the address he had written down, she responded, “Oh, I know this street.” Turning the card over, Charisse read the information there. “You sell houses, huh?”
“Yup.”
“Are you any good?”
“I’m very good,” he answered in what she perceived to be a sensuous tone.
“I meant at selling houses.”
“I did, too.”
Charisse blushed and lowered her eyes.
Smiling at her reaction, he asked, “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a CPA.”
“Really?” He was impressed.
“Yup.”
He nodded in admiration.
“What should I wear tomorrow?”
“Well, for the ride up, you should probably wear jeans and a sweater or lightweight jacket. It can get cool on the bike. You might want to carry a pair of shorts, though, for once we’re up there, ’cause it’s supposed to be pretty hot tomorrow.”
“Okay, so I’ll be at your house at about noon.”
“Yeah, that’s good.”
Smiling sweetly, Charisse said, “Okay, so…I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Reaching across the table for her hand, Stefàn gazed into her eyes as he gently pressed his lips to the back of her hand before whispering, “I look forward to continuing our discussion.”
Blushing, Charisse replied, “Me, too.”
He rose from his seat. “I’ll let you get back to your family,” he said before he turned and walked back across the room.
Returning to their table seconds after Stefàn had walked away, Barbara took the seat he had vacated and asked, “Who was that, Charisse?” Star was right behind her and took the seat next to Charisse.
“Stefàn Cooper,” Charisse said, reading his card aloud. “Certified Residential Specialist and Licensed Real Estate Broker. He’s a friend of Terry’s.”
“He’s cute,” Barbara said.
“No, Mommy. Brotha man is fine!” Star stated.
“That he is,” Charisse agreed with a smile as she nudged her big sister.
“And what’s his story? I saw him talking to a couple of different women in here tonight, including your cousin, Debbie.”
“So did I.”
“So….”
“So, what?”
“What’s up with him? I saw him giving you his card, but I didn’t see you give him yours,” Barbara added.
“That’s ’cause I didn’t.”
“I hope you’re not going to be chasing that man. He looks like he gets plenty of exercise as it is.”
Laughing at her mother’s play on words, Charisse assured her, “No, Mommy. I’m not going to be chasing him, but I’m thinking about going riding with him tomorrow.”
“Riding? What? On horseback?” Star asked.
“No, on his motorcycle.”
“What?” Catching the tail-end of their conversation, Barbara’s query was echoed by Myra, who had walked over and sat down.
“What? What’s so wrong with that?” Charisse asked.
“You don’t know that man. How you gonna be riding on his motorcycle?” Barbara said.
“Mommy, I’ll be fine.”
“She’ll be fine, Mommy,” Star concurred.
“Shut up, Star,” Barbara snapped before turning back to Charisse. “Where are you supposed to be going?”
With a bright smile, she answered, “To Connecticut for a biker’s cookout.”
“Go ’head, girl,” Star cheered.
Shaking her head, Myra said, “You’re crazy.”
Waving Myra’s comment off, Charisse replied, “That’s what you always say.”
“Yeah, and she’s got a point this time, Charisse,” Barbara stated.
“Look, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I trust him.”
“You don’t even know him!” Barbara emphatically reminded her.
“I trust him not to let me get hurt on his bike.”
Still shaking her head, Myra hummed, “Mmm, mmm.”
Star leaned in and conspiratorially whispered, “Don’t pay them no mind, Risi. They’re jealous.”
AS THEY LEFT THE RECEPTION HALL TOGETHER later that evening, Julian asked Stefàn, “So did you get her digits?”
“No, but she’s riding with us tomorrow.”
That news stopped Julian in his tracks. “What?”
Without slowing his pace, Stefàn stated over his shoulder, “You heard me.”
“You don’t ever take anyone to these functions. Matter of fact, you’ve never even let anyone on your bike,” Julian pointed out when he caught up with Stefàn.
“I like her.”
“That’s never been enough criteria before. You like a lot of women.”
“Nah, Dub, I like her.” Chuckling as he recalled Charisse’s first words to him during their dance, Stefàn said, “You know what she said to me? She said I act like I expect women to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ when I walk into a room.”
“You do!”
Laughing, Stefàn added, “Yeah, but I’ve never been called on it before.”
“Oh, so what? You think she’s going to be more of a challenge, huh?”
“Nah, it’s not like that. She’s cool. I mean, she’s about something, you know. I could have talked to her all night, man.” After a brief pause, Stefàn added, “I think she’s a church girl.”
“A church girl, huh?”
“Yeah, but she’s very high-spirited, if you know what I mean. She’s getting ready to buy herself a Corvette for her birthday.”
“Word?”
“Word, man. She collects cars. High-end miniatures.”
“Well, she definitely sounds different.”
Looking over at his friend, he declared, “Exactly!”
“So what time you wanna pull out tomorrow?” Julian asked.
“Well, she doesn’t get out of church until about eleven, so maybe I should meet y’all.”
“All right, call the cell when you get there.”
“All right, bro.” They touched fists. “Mañana,” Stefàn said.
“Peace out.”
BEFORE HEADING HOME THAT EVENING, Stefàn made a stop at the bike shop he frequented in his old neighborhood in Queens, where he usually purchased his biking accessories.
“Hey, Coop. Lookin’ sharp, dude,” the proprietor said when he entered.
“What’s up, D? Yeah, I just came from a wedding.”
“You just caught me. I was about to close up.”
“I’m not going to keep you. I only need to pick up a lad
y’s helmet.”
AS CHARISSE DROVE HER HOME later that night, Myra asked, “You’re really going to go riding with him tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re not going to church?”
“Of course, I’m going to church. I’m going to need extra protection tomorrow.”
Myra let out a sigh. “Yeah, really. You’d better be careful, girl.”
“I will.”
“I’m not just talking about on that bike. That brother’s way too fine. I don’t know if I’d want to mess with anyone that pretty.”
Laughing, Charisse said, “Well, he knows I’ve already got his card read.”
“Oh yeah? And how does he know that?”
“’Cause I told him.”
Myra sucked her teeth.
“Look, I’m sure women are regularly pushin’ up on him and I’m pretty sure he laps it right up. I saw him and them. But I’m not trying to get hooked up with him. I just want to ride on his bike. I’ve got his number. He doesn’t have mine.”
“All right, now. I know you know he’s not the settling down type.”
With a frown, Charisse replied, “Oh, please, girl, like I would set myself up like that.”
Silence ensued for the next few minutes until Myra cried with a shake of her head, “Brother sure is fine, though. Dang!”
Laughing, Charisse agreed. “Ain’t he gorgeous?”
“And that suit. He was wearing that suit.”
“Yes, my man was too clean.”
“Dang! He looks like something off the cover of GQ,” Myra said again. “What does he do?”
“He’s a real estate broker.”
“Teaneck’s not that far from you, is it?”
“It’s the next town over.”
“Yeah, well, I still say, you watch yourself with that pretty boy. He’ll fool around and break your heart.”
“He can only do that if I give it to him, and I’m not that careless with my vital organs.”
DURING HER DRIVE HOME AFTER DROPPING MYRA OFF, Charisse pondered her hasty decision to go riding with Stefàn. Like her mother had stated, she didn’t know him. Matter of fact, the only thing she knew about him was that he sold houses for a living. Star seemed to think she should go for it, but ever since her divorce, Charisse had noticed that her older sister had let her hair down and showed no signs of putting it back up. There was something about Stefàn, though, that attracted her in a way no man ever had. Granted, like Myra had said, he was fine, but that was really an understatement. Stefàn’s looks were like something out of a romance novel. His face rivaled that of a sculpture—chiseled, flawless; dark brown eyes that pierced through to her very soul; lips that looked as inviting as a cool drink on a hot day; and a smile that made her insides quiver. The electrical surges she had felt in his powerful yet tender embrace when they danced told her that he would protect her from all harm; that is, if she let him.
“Father, did I speak too quickly?” she softly questioned over the low volume of the Richard Smallwood CD playing on her car stereo.
Charisse was new in Christ. She had only been baptized four months ago. In January, a co-worker had invited her to attend a retreat, which the women’s ministry of her church sponsored yearly. Several other sisters from the accounting firm they worked for were also attending, so Charisse decided to go as well. She hadn’t attended church on a regular basis since she’d gotten out of high school and even then, hadn’t fully understood what it meant to give one’s self to Christ.
That weekend, however, changed Charisse’s life. She had never experienced anything as powerful as the fellowship of the Christian women participating in the retreat. She could honestly say she felt God’s presence among them as never before.
Upon her return, Charisse joined the woman who had invited her to the retreat at the Sunday service at her church. After three weeks of listening to the powerful sermons delivered by the pastor of the New Covenant Baptist Church, Charisse felt as if she had found the place she was supposed to be. She went up during the invitational on that fourth Sunday, giving her hand to the preacher, but giving her heart to God.
Gradually, her views began to change and the way she had been living didn’t feel right anymore. She hadn’t really dated anyone in over six months, but made the decision that when she did start to date again, the rules would be entirely different. Charisse made a conscious effort to study the Bible, reading a chapter or two every day, and she also began to read inspirational literature to help her in her Walk.
Her gut told her that Stefàn wasn’t saved, so she didn’t understand why this man had made such an impression upon her. The few hours of his behavior she had witnessed at the reception was evidence of her assumption, but she didn’t want to judge him, either. That was not her place.
By the time she arrived at her house that evening, she’d decided that first thing tomorrow, she would call Stefàn and apologize, but she couldn’t go riding with him. He was too much of a temptation and she was not sure she was strong enough to resist him.
CHAPTER 3
CHANGES OF HEART
Church let out Sunday morning at ten-forty. As soon as she got into her car, Charisse reached for her cell phone and the business card Stefàn had given her the day before.
She took a deep breath before dialing his home number and sent up an prayer to the Lord to guide her in the way she should go. Then she dialed his number.
He picked up on the third ring. “Good morning.” The baritone voice that came through the line was cheerful, confident and as smooth as thick, dark chocolate. It warmed her immediately.
“Good morning. Stefàn?”
“Yes.”
“This is Charisse Ellison.”
“Hello, Charisse.”
“Hi. How are you?” she nervously inquired.
“I’m well, thank you. How are you?”
“Not too good,” she admitted.
“I’m sorry to hear that. What’s wrong?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking and…I spoke too soon yesterday when I said I would go riding with you. I can’t go.”
Silence filled the line. Charisse held her breath the entire time.
He finally said, “I’m guessing there’s an underlying reason why you suddenly can’t go, so may I ask why you’ve changed your mind?” His tone was different. No longer did he sound like the confident man who had answered her call. She now sensed his disappointment.
“I…um. I don’t want to give you the wrong idea about me,” she replied.
“What idea would that be?” he asked.
“Well…,” she hedged. “I think we… You strike me as the kind of man who…well, who has…who likes a lot of women and…I don’t want to get involved with anyone like that.”
She waited for his reply.
“Stefàn? Hello?” Charisse called when he didn’t respond.
“You’re judging me and you don’t even know me. You did that yesterday, too.”
“No. I’m not judging you.”
“Yes, you are. You’re assuming things about me and you’re making decisions based on things you don’t even know.”
“I…” Charisse paused, looking for the right words.
Before she could collect her thoughts, he asked with a definite edge in his tone, “What is it you think I want from you?”
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. She felt his irritation through the line and was uneasy about having caused it.
“You said you’d never ridden on a motorcycle, but you’d always wanted to. Aside from the company of some decent people, good music and food, that’s all I was offering. But if you don’t want to go, that’s cool. I’m sorry if I offended you in any way because that was never my intent,” he magnanimously stated.
“No, you didn’t offend me.” Charisse sighed. She couldn’t tell him how much he excited her. He could never know that she found him so appealing. “I’m sorry,” she muttered.
“Listen, I thought we co
uld get to know each other, but if
I’m not the type of person you want to know, well…. You have a good life.”
The line went dead in her ear.
Stunned and stung by his abrupt dismissal, Charisse felt as if the air had gone out of her lungs. “Oh, God, what did I do?” Feeling a desperate need to reclaim her connection to him, she pressed the redial button on her phone.
After two rings, he picked up. “Yes?”
“Stefàn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… You took that the wrong way.”
“I took it the way you said it,” he coolly stated.
She sighed in defeat. “I… Look, it’s not that I think you have some ulterior motive or anything….”
“So what is it, then?” he wanted to know.
“Connecticut is pretty far. I’ve never been on a bike before and… we’d have to ride on the highway, right?”
“Yup.”
Sighing again, she continued. “I’m nervous about riding so far. The first time.” She closed her eyes, hoping he would not see through her falsehood.
“Is that it?”
“Yes.” Forgive me, Lord.
“So why don’t we ride right here in New Jersey. I know a little park that’s only fifteen minutes from here and doesn’t require getting on the highway to get to.” She didn’t respond right away, prompting him to ask, “Is that okay with you?”
“But what about your friends? Weren’t you all planning to go together?”
“No, I was going to meet them there,” he said.
“But won’t they be looking for you?”
“My not being there won’t affect their good time. Besides, I can call Dub and let him know I’m not coming.”
“I don’t want to ruin your plans.”
“Look, Charisse. Keep it real. Do you want to ride with me or not?”
Well, there it was. All that was required of her was a straight yes or no. He had made it very simple. It was apparent he was finished playing with her.
“Yes,” she uttered, barely loud enough to be heard. Her heart was pounding so hard, she wondered if its beating resonated through the line.
“Do you want to check out the park I was telling you about?”
“Okay.”
“Where are you?”