“Good. I’ll see you in a little while.”
Chapter 6
“She’s not here,” Tam said after looking around The Garden Restaurant. “She said if she wasn’t here, we should get a table. She’s probably running late. You know how it is with real estate agents.”
Yes, Kim knew how it was with real estate agents. After her parents’ deaths, she’d considered selling her family home and had called in an agent to help with the sale. In the end, though, she hadn’t been able to part with that part of her heritage, much to the realtor’s dismay.
“Let’s get a table,” she finally said, even though she wasn’t really hungry. Dinner out had been Tam and Leslie’s idea and she hadn’t had the energy to argue with them. She’d learned a long time ago that sometimes it was easier and less frustrating to go along with her friends.
“Sounds good to me,” Tam said. “Now if we could just get a waitress.”
Kim turned and scanned the room for the missing waitress. She found her and caught her eye. The restaurant wasn’t that busy, so the one waitress meant they were short-staffed.
“Tell me about Reggie Stevens,” Tam prompted. “And I want details.”
Kim was saved from responding by the waitress who chose that moment to seat them. She gave them leather bound menus, said she’d be back with water and quickly went off toward the back of the restaurant.
“I don’t think we’re going to get much service this evening,” Kim said.
Tam picked up her menu. “I’m in no hurry. We’ll just hang out.” She closed the menu. “I already know what I want. Now tell me about Reggie. What was he like?”
Kim didn’t know where to start. She felt foolish every time she thought about the high hopes she’d had about Reggie Stevens. But he’d turned out to be no different than the other brothers she knew. “He’s just a guy, Tam. A guy looking for a pretty piece to sport on his arm.”
“Damn,” Tam said. “Aren’t they all?”
Kim sighed. From her experience with the men she’d dated, Derrick included, they were. “I thought Reggie was different. From his nomination letters, I thought he was different. That article he wrote should have warned me though.”
“I thought he was right on with most of what he said in the article. A lot of women don’t really know what they want.”
“On the surface he made a few good points,” Kim conceded, “but his whole message was that women are too stupid to make wise choices. Could be he’s the one who’s too stupid. Could be he’s just another jerk.”
Tam shook her head. “Girl, sometimes you’re tougher on men than I am. You’ve only talked to the man once. Give him another chance before throwing him in the dung heap with the others. Now, the important question: Did he look like his pictures?”
Kim had to smile. Tam had gone from talking like a wise old woman to a giddy teenager. “I never said he wasn’t fine. He’s definitely fine. But fine isn’t everything. A man has to have some substance. He has to want more in a relationship than a pretty face.”
“Did he hit on you?” Tam asked.
Kim placed her menu on the table in front of her. “Now why would you ask that?”
Tam shrugged her shoulders. “Just wondering. You make him sound like a player so I figured he hit on you.”
“Please, girl. I’m definitely not his type. Probably a little too dark and a little too heavy for his taste.”
“Girl, you are not heavy,” Tam said, getting her attention. “And you have a beautiful complexion. Why do you put yourself down? Have you looked in the mirror lately?”
Of course, Kim had looked in the mirror. She looked in the mirror every day. “I know how I look, Tam. I’m not talking about how I perceive myself but how others perceive me.”
“You don’t seem to have too much trouble attracting your share of men.”
Kim heard a bit of accusation in Tam’s words that she didn’t understand. Sure, she attracted men, but she’d never met a man who appreciated her kind of beauty, who stirred her passion, who was stable mentally and financially, and who believed in monogamy and commitment. She wanted it all and she felt she deserved it. She wasn’t going to settle for less. “Neither do you, Tam, so what’s the problem?”
“No problem,” Tam said. Kim didn’t believe her.
“Come on,” she encouraged. “Tell me.”
“It’s Leslie,” Tam confided in hushed tones. “I’m getting tired of her telling me about every new diet that comes along. You’d think I was as big as a house.”
As one who was no stranger to diets, Kim felt for her friend. “Girl, you know, Leslie. You’d better ignore her. Anyway, next to her, we’re both as big as a house. You’d better not let her get you down.”
“I’m not down,” Tam said. “I’m just tired of Leslie.”
“What have I done now?” Leslie said, breath short from exhaustion. She pulled out the vacant chair between her two friends. “So tell me, what have I done?”
Tam gave Kim a look that said she’d rather change the subject. “We’ve been waiting for you,” Kim said. “What took you so long?”
Leslie went on to give a long spiel about her house hunting trip and the ignorant real estate agent who’d hosted her. “You can bet she won’t sell me a house,” Leslie said. “I told that woman, that black woman, I wanted to live in South DeKalb and she kept telling me I wanted to live in Gwinnett. What’s with these people?”
“You know what’s with them, Leslie,” Tam said. “They probably figured since you had a little money you didn’t want to live on the black side of town.” Tam lifted her nose. “She wanted you to go North and live with the better folks.”
“Better, my behind,” Leslie said. “That agent lost herself a big fat commission and got a piece of my mind to go along with it. I can’t stand that kind of crap.”
“This is Atlanta,” Kim said.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Leslie asked.
“In case you haven’t looked recently, this is the Old South.”
“Old South,” Leslie snorted. “Don’t get me started. I may have to come here and get some of these people straightened out.”
The waitress returned with their water and an additional menu for Leslie. “Do you need more time?” she asked.
Both Kim and Tam looked at Leslie. “You go ahead and order,” Leslie said. “By the time you’re finished, I’ll have made up my mind.”
Kim and Tam ordered and sure enough, Leslie had decided what she wanted by the time they finished.
“Now, tell me about Reggie Stevens,” Leslie said, leaning toward Kim. “And don’t leave anything out.”
Kim rolled her eyes. “What’s up with you two and Reggie Stevens? He’s just a man.”
Leslie leaned back in her chair. “That’s what I told you at first, but you didn’t agree. So don’t hold back now. Tell me what he was like.”
Kim sighed again. She really didn’t want to spend her entire dinner thinking about Reggie Stevens, but she knew she had to give her friends something to satisfy their curiosity. “He’s a guy, Leslie. A guy who’s got an attitude because so many women have dumped him. I think he wrote that article to get back at women.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I interviewed him, remember? Reggie Stevens may think he’s a good guy, but in my opinion he’s just a brother trying to get over.”
“Too bad,” Leslie said. “I was actually hoping you two might hit it off.”
“What?” Kim asked, unwilling to admit that she’d harbored similar thoughts. Ridiculous thoughts given that she hadn’t even met the man.
“You heard her, Kim,” Tam joined in. “We saw you mooning over his picture.”
“I was not mooning over his picture. I was doing my job.”
Tam and Leslie shared a knowing smile. “Sure, Kim. Anything you say.”
Kim stared wide-eyed at her friends and they began to laugh. She knew it would do her no good to try to stop them. She sat back and waited fo
r the waitress.
~ ~ ~
Later that night as Reggie was getting ready for bed, he was still thinking about Ms. Kimberla Washington. He knew she’d gotten the wrong impression of him. It was obvious to him that she had a chip on her shoulder. He wondered what crazy brother had put it there. Well, he said to himself, it wasn’t his problem. She wasn’t his problem.
He was about to climb into bed when he heard the front door open. Luther, he assumed. A short knock at his bedroom door confirmed his assumption. “Come on in,” he said.
Luther swaggered into the room. “What’s up, man?” he said, dropping down in a chair and propping his feet up on the edge of the bed. “I’m dog tired, you know.”
“They say partying will do that to you.”
“I wasn’t partying,” Luther said. “I was socializing. There’s a big difference. Not that you’d know the difference. What’d you do? Call Nate?”
Reggie shook his head. “Nah, I wasn’t up for company tonight.”
“I know I’m crazy for asking, but did you call Halle?”
Brandy. Reggie realized he hadn’t even thought about the woman. “Maybe another night,” he hedged.
“Uh-huh. By the time you call her, she’ll be married with three children.”
“Why are you talking about me? You can’t even remember the woman’s real name.”
Luther slid his legs off the bed. “But I can remember that body. And that face.” He closed his eyes and grinned. Then his eyes shot open. “Hey, what happened with Ms. Washington? She wasn’t too bad. A little on the heavy side, but nice legs and a nice smile. What was she like?”
Reggie had been pondering that question himself. When the interview had begun, he’d quickly formed a positive opinion of Kim as a level-headed woman. “First of all,” Reggie began, “She’s not on the heavy side. She looks like a woman, and not like a little girl.”
“Don’t get mad. I said she had nice legs.”
“I’m not mad.”
“Sounds like you’re mad to me. Did you ask her out?”
“Of course I didn’t ask her out,” Reggie answered, though he wasn’t being truthful. He had suggested she have dinner with him, but she’d turned him down. Flat. “She came for an interview, not for a date.”
Luther got up and stretched. “Who says one can’t lead to the other? Man, you’ve got to take advantage of your opportunities. Now, this Kim has a good job, a good head on her shoulders. You could do worse.” He gave a wry laugh. “Come to think of it, you have done worse.”
Reggie wondered, not for the first time, how he and Luther had managed to stay friends for so long. The brother definitely got on his nerves at times.
“So, are you going to see her again?” Luther asked.
Reggie shrugged. “She’s bringing a photographer by to take some photos. She should be calling to arrange a time. I’m sure you’ll talk to her.”
“Maybe I will,” Luther said. “Seems to me you need somebody to run interference for you.”
“Look, man, I don’t need your help. I can find my own woman.”
“Sure you can,” Luther said, clearly not convinced. “Just look at your track record.”
“We could look at yours.”
“Well, as Nate says, at least we’ve been able to get a woman to the altar. You don’t seem to be able to do that and I bet you’d handle married life a lot better than either of us did.”
Reggie felt as if he’d been insulted. “What makes you think that?”
Luther shrugged, walking to the door. “Much as I hate to say this, you’re a good guy, Reggie. You’re the type who’d enjoy the wife, the house, the two and a half kids.”
“And you’re not?”
Luther shook his head. “But sometimes I wish I were. Maybe I haven’t met the right woman yet.”
“And maybe you’ve met her and let her get away.”
Luther’s eyes widened. “Don’t even think it. I’m like you in that respect. I don’t look back. Once it’s over, it’s over.” He yawned. “Night, man. I’ve got to get some shuteye.”
After Luther left the room and closed the door, Reggie lay back on the bed and thought about what he’d said. Luther was right. Reggie very much wanted the wife, the house, the kids. His parents had it. His brothers had it. And he wanted it too. Though he’d dated his share of women, he’d only come close to having the love and the life he wanted once. With Christina. She was the first and only woman he’d asked to marry him. And she’d turned him down.
He should have seen it coming since she’d made no secret about being in love with Jackson Duncan, her coworker and a friend of the Stevens family. But he’d fallen quickly for Christina. When he’d seen her on the bus that day in Mobile, something about her had tugged at his spirit. Maybe it had been the uncertainty in her beautiful brown eyes. Or maybe it had been something more profound. Maybe her spirit had reached out and touched his.
Thinking about her no longer hurt. She and Jackson had been married two years now and she was pregnant with their second child. He hadn’t spoken with her since the day she’d told him she was marrying Jackson, but her friend Liza and Liza’s husband, Robert, had become casual friends in the time he’d been in Atlanta, and they kept him up-to-date on the Duncans.
Thoughts of Christina quickly turned to thoughts of Kim. The women couldn’t be more different. Christina was definitely more reserved than Kim, and a bit more conservative, he’d guess. But there was a similar spirit in the two women. Both seemed to reach out to him in some indescribable way.
Reggie rolled over and turned off the bedside light. All this thinking about women was making him tired. His last thought before he went to sleep was that he’d like to see Kim Washington again if only to correct the unfavorable impression she’d somehow gotten of him.
~ ~ ~
Two days later, Kim woke to the sound of her ringing telephone. Wiping sleep from her eyes, she picked up the phone and mumbled her greeting.
“Kimmy girl, is that you?”
It was Jim. Why in heck was he calling her so early in the morning? What time was it, anyway? She squinted to make out the numbers on the bedside clock. Six o’clock.
“Kimmy, wake up. I know it’s you. What are you doing down there in Atlanta? You’re supposed to be writing the news, not making it.”
Kim shook her head to clear away the sleepiness she still felt. She, Tam and Leslie had gone to a play at the Fourteenth Street Theatre last night and had a late supper. Then, at Leslie’s insistence, they’d accepted an invitation for some dancing at a private club. It had been a good evening, but they’d gotten in much too late.
“What are you talking about, Jim?”
“I’m talking about this article. What are you doing in the paper, Kimmy? You’re supposed to be writing articles, not being interviewed. What’s gotten into you?”
“Article?” She sat up in bed. “Slow down a minute, Jim. I have to get my thoughts together.”
“The papers, Kimmy,” he clarified. “The radio stations will love this one.”
“What paper?” she asked impatiently. “Tell me exactly what you’re talking about.”
Kim heard Jim sigh and knew he was growing impatient with her. “What I’m talking about is an Atlanta Voice article titled, Good Guy Not So Good After All.”
“What?”
“You heard me. And your name is all over this piece, too. Too bad it’s not a byline. The magazine could have used this article, Kimmy. It would have gone well with the contest article. So tell me, why are you down there giving interviews to the competition?”
“Look, I’m still not sure what you’re talking about, but you can rest assured that I haven’t given an interview to anyone.”
“Maybe it’s one of your friends then,” Jim said. “You know how that Leslie talks.”
Sometimes Kim regretted the family atmosphere that prevailed at Urban Style. It would be nice to have a private life outside work. “Leslie wouldn’t talk abou
t my work,” she assured him. “And neither would Tam.”
“Well, somebody’s been talking. Listen to this: Reggie Stevens is no different than any other get-over, brother, Urban Style features editor Kim Washington said. Did you say something like that?”
Even if Kim didn’t say it, she agreed with it. “How am I supposed to remember every thing I say?”
Jim read the byline. “Are you familiar with the name?”
Kim definitely was. Glenda was the reporter who’d tried to get information out of her after her interview with Reggie. But how had the woman gotten the quotes?
“Don’t let this happen again, Kimmy. You’re down there to get a story, not give one.”
“All right, Jim,” she said. Don’t get your shorts all twisted, she added to herself.
“Good. Now that we’ve gotten that clear, there’s a good side to this article.”
“What’s that?” she asked, though she really didn’t want to know. She had a feeling Jim had an idea for another scheme.
“This could actually help us, Kimmy,” he began and she knew she was right. “The paper and radio stations are already getting calls about the article and expect to get even more. It seems your article has stoked the fires. You know what this means, don’t you?”
“That it’s even more important that Reggie Stevens appear on the cover of Urban Style?”
“That’s exactly what it means, but it also means that we may be able to turn the Nice Guy contest into a series. Maybe I’ll fly down to Atlanta and talk to Reggie Stevens myself. The two of you could do something like a He Says, She Says column. The readers would eat it up.”
Kim didn’t know about all of that. She hadn’t seen Glenda’s article and couldn’t comment until she did. “Wait awhile before making the trip, Jim. As I’ve already told you, Reggie is skittish about the press. He’s already gotten offers for columns and talk shows. He’s not interested. At least, not now.”
“Well, Kimmy,” Jim said tersely. “You get him interested. This magazine could use a boost. You know as well as I do that things have been difficult around here. I’d hate to have to start laying off people.”
Kim had heard that veiled threat more than once. And while she didn’t like it, it no longer bothered her as it once had. Threats were the cornerstone of Jim’s management style. If she had the extra money, she’d pay for him to attend a class so he could develop some real skills. “Look, Jim, I’m going to get dressed and see if I can find a copy of that article. I’ll get back to you later in the day.”
The Nicest Guy in America Page 8