A Champion's Proposal

by Tina Martin

  “Is that a deal-breaker?”

  “It is. I must have an office.”

  “You don’t have offices at your gyms?”

  “I do, but I don’t leave important documents there just in case of a break-in or something. People are crazy nowadays.”

  “That’s true. Okay, so four-plus bedrooms,” she said writing a note. “What about bathrooms?”

  “Two, maybe three.”

  “Most homes have two and a half.”

  “Right. The half doesn’t have a shower.”

  “Correct. It’s called a powder room.”

  “I have one downstairs in my townhouse. Why do people call it a powder room?”

  “I actually know this—it’s because back in the day, women used to use a closet-size room – the small bathroom – to apply powder to their fancy wigs. Why you need to put powder on a wig is beyond me, but the term powder room caught on as a euphemism from that point on. Instead of a woman saying she had to use the bathroom, dismissing herself to the powder room sounded more ladylike and discreet.”

  “And uppity.”

  “Yeah, that too!”

  “So, it all has to do with women and their wigs. I wonder if they had them lace fronts back then?”

  Jemisha laughed, surprised he knew anything about wigs. “I doubt it. Back then, when a woman wore a wig, it was basically a hat. These lace front wigs are hardly detectable. They look like a woman’s natural hair.”

  “Lean forward and let me see yours.”

  “This is my hair, fool!” she said laughing.

  He chuckled, too. “I’m just kidding.”

  She took a sip of water and held his gaze as she did so, immediately telling herself to get back on track. “Are you interested in a fixer-upper, or are you looking for something that’s move-in ready?”

  “I would like to have a home where I can just move in, but I don’t want to miss out on a spectacular property simply because it may need a few repairs.”

  She nodded. “Just thought I’d ask. Some people demand perfection.”

  “No such thing.”

  Says the man who’s perfect in every way – well, physically. Mentally, he was the type of guy she needed to steer clear of and she would, but first, she had to get through lunch with him.

  “What price range do you have in mind?”

  “Uh…let’s see…” He leaned back in his chair and squinted his eyes, doing some figuring in his head. “I want to fall somewhere between five and eight hundred thousand.”

  “With that range, I’m certain I’ll find some properties that suit your needs.”

  “Does that mean you’re accepting me as a client or do I need to keep looking?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip. She needed the commission. What she didn’t need was any attention from him. She took a deep inhale and looked up at him. “Okay. Yes.”

  “Are you sure? You don’t look sure,” he said, his adrenaline spiking him to a new high at the thought of working closely with her. If she played her cards right, she’d be picking out her own house because she was definitely on his radar.

  “I’m sure. Yes.”

  “Good. When can I expect my first home tour?”

  “When I get back to the office today, I’ll do a search and send you a few properties to look at. You can choose the ones you would like to see. We can tour houses as early as tomorrow.”

  “That quick, huh?”

  “Yes. That quick.”

  “I’ll definitely be waiting to see what you have to offer,” he said, interlocking his hands on the table.

  I’m sure you will…

  She looked up at him again. His lips slowly transitioned to a smile, showing those snow-white teeth of his again. Jeez. The man’s smile was out of this world. She looked at his empty plate. That was a lot of burger he’d eaten, but he tore it up like it was just a snack and hers wasn’t even half-eaten. He had the appetite of a Grizzly.

  “Lunch is on me, by the way,” Mordecai said.

  “No, please let me. You’re my client now. Lunch with a client is a tax writeoff.”

  “I’m sure it is, but I’m not the type of guy to let a chick pay my way.”

  She lifted a brow. “A chick?”

  “A woman. A beautiful woman. Is that better?”

  Was it really a compliment when a man like Mordecai told a woman she was beautiful? She thought not. It was all flattery. He’d tell a woman anything to get what he wanted from her. “Let’s just keep this strictly professional, Mr. Champion.”

  “That’s fine, but I won’t tolerate the formality. You can call me Mordecai, and I’ll call you Misha. Mordecai and Misha—the new Bonnie and Clyde…”

  Amused, she responded, “That’s Je-misha to you and there’s nothing Bonnie-and-Clyde-ish about buying a house.”

  The waitress boxed up her leftovers. Jemisha was certain it would be her dinner tonight, especially since she would be too busy to cook. She’d be hunting for Mordecai’s new bachelor pad. The sooner she could find him a house, the faster she could get rid of him.

  Chapter 6

  “You agreed to take Mordecai as a client?” Savannah said with surprise in her voice.

  “Yeah, I did. I met him for lunch today and—”

  “Wait—timeout. You met who for lunch because I know—I KNOW—you’re not talking about my brother-in-law.”

  Jemisha was laughing when she said, “I am. The infamous Mordecai Champion. He wanted me to meet him at Rebellion. Turns out he legitimately wants to buy a house. Go figure.”

  “Yeah—I meant to call you about that. Harding told me that Mordecai called him and was asking about the home-buying process, so he is serious. I can’t tell you how serious he is about anything else, though. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll be okay.”

  “Come again?”

  “It’s fine. If I can sit across the table and have lunch with him—alone—I’m sure I can show him a few houses and whatnot.”

  “A few days ago, you hated Mordecai’s guts.”

  “I didn’t hate him. I just wanted nothing to do with him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I have a type, and he’s it.”

  “If I’m understanding you correctly, you wanted nothing to do with him because you like him?”

  “Yes. Well, sort of. He’s my type and I need to avoid my type because I’m not very good at choosing men. If the guy is handsome, charming and has a kilowatt smile, he ain’t no good. Boom. There. I said it.”

  Savannah laughed. “Lord have mercy...please help this child...”

  “I’m serious, Savannah.”

  “Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but that’s totally not true. Harding is all of those things and he’s not a cheater. He’s a wonderful husband, father and provider. He’s practically Mordecai’s twin.”

  “Yeah, in looks—not in personality and morals.”

  “Okay, so you admit you’re attracted to Mordecai and that’s why you initially didn’t want to work with him.”

  “Exactly, but you know what…if I’m being honest, having lunch with him made me realize how much I miss going out on dates. I think you were right. I do need to get back out there.”

  “Well, just be careful, girl. I know he’s my brother-in-law, but they don’t call Mordecai a charmer for nothing. One minute you’ll be showing the man a house, the next, y’all wrestling around on the floor.”

  Jemisha laughed. “It’ll be nothing like that.”

  “So you say now.”

  “I have a plan. Once I sell him this house and get that fat check, we’ll cut ties.”

  Savannah laughed harder. “You gon’ get that check, then. I have to run. Harley is throwing a tantrum all of a sudden.”

  “Okay. I’ll keep you updated on your brother-in-law.”

  Jemisha emerged from the car and walked to the building, heading straight to her office. She unlocked the door and tossed t
he keys onto her desk. Finally, she had something to do.

  She pulled up a browser, went through the new MLS (Multiple Listing Services) listings and filtered out all four-bedroom, two-story homes. Two stood out immediately – houses on Mooring Drive and Tanbridge Road. They were both within Mordecai’s price range.

  “These are perfect,” she said ecstatic as she immediately composed an email to Mordecai and attached the two MLS datasheets.

  From: Rayford Real Estate

  To: Mordecai Champion

  Subject: Found 2 Properties

  <>

  Hi Mordecai,

  I’m attaching two properties. Take a look and let me know if you would like to see these two houses tomorrow.

  Thanks,

  Jemisha Rayford

  Real Estate Agent

  __________

  Within minutes, her cell rang. It was him.

  Danggit!

  Why couldn’t he just have responded to the email?

  By the time the third ring came along, she cleared her throat and answered, “Rayford Real Estate. Jemisha speaking,” trying to sound as professional as she possibly could.

  He chuckled. “Stop playing, girl. You know it’s me.”

  “Mordecai? Actually, I didn’t. I’d just walked away from my desk.”

  She grew amused by her own lie. She was still sitting at her desk, but she didn’t want him to know that.

  “Did you get my email?”

  “Yes, and those properties are fine. Hook it up, babes.”

  “Did you look at either of the datasheets?”

  He couldn’t have. She’d just sent the email two minutes ago.

  “Not really. Why look at them on paper when I can see them in all their glory tomorrow?”

  “Then I suggest you at least take a peep at the addresses to make sure the neighborhoods are to your liking.”

  “Nah. That’s your job. I told you the area I wanted you to look.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. In the email, remember? I said close to the water but not waterfront. I don’t want to see any bodies of water from my house.”

  “Why not?”

  “Flooding concerns. At least one major hurricane comes to pay the North Carolina coast a visit every year. I don’t want to get mixed up in a destruction-rebuilding cycle.”

  “A good portion of this city, if not all, is prone to flooding. As a general rule, I recommend all my clients get flood insurance even if they think they don’t need it.”

  “That’s a good plan of action,” he said.

  “What time can you be free tomorrow?” she asked.

  “Whatever time you need me to be free, Misha.”

  Misha. She could just choke him. “How about three o’clock?”

  “Three o’clock it is.”

  “Good. We’ll meet at the Tanbridge address first, so you can drive straight there.”

  “It’s a date,” he said.

  “Uh…okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hung up the phone after that. Seeing him in person was nerve-racking enough. His phone voice was ultra-smooth and sexy. This was the moment she realized why her list was destroyed by that latte. It was a prediction. That list of rules wouldn’t work on Mordecai. She couldn’t avoid the man since she had to show him houses. And an inability to maintain eye contact in business was a sign of distrust, so she couldn’t do that either. She needed to close this deal and find a way to put distance between them. She had to come up with a new plan.

  Chapter 7

  Mordecai gave a single nod to a couple of guys leaving his gym, then walked up to his friend, Davante, the man he put in charge at this location.

  “Whattup, Champ?” Davante said.

  “Sup, man. How’s everything going today?”

  “So far, so good. It’s been a breeze.”

  “That’s good news considering I have to cut out around 2:30 p.m.”

  Davante grinned. “You dirty dog.”

  Mordecai chuckled. “Nah, man…ain’t nothing like that. It’s business. Do you recall me telling you about a time when I would turn in my player’s card and buy a house.”

  “Nooo!” his friend crooned. “It ain’t that time yet, is it?”

  “It’s that time, man. I’m going house shopping.”

  Davante slapped hands with him. “My man! I ain’t mad at you. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “You got an agent already?”

  “Yep. Met up with her for lunch yesterday. She already has two houses lined up for this afternoon.”

  “Sounds like she’s on the ball.”

  Mordecai smiled. “She is. She’s very intelligent—got her stuff together, that’s for sure. Reminds me of myself. Business-oriented and driven.”

  He definitely could appreciate that. It wasn’t easy walking away from corporate and starting a business. It took a lot of guts, hard work and struggle – things most people didn’t see or failed to realize. They saw the result of perseverance – not the turmoil it put a person through. So he could only imagine how difficult it must’ve been for Jemisha to move from the place where she grew up to start a business elsewhere. That intrigued him. He couldn’t wait to discuss it with her further.

  “You know I’ll handle everything around here,” Davante said. “Oh, by the way, one of the treadmills clunked out last night. I have a service guy coming to check it out this afternoon.”

  “Okay. Is there anything else brewing?”

  “The company that brings the alkaline water said they had to delay a day. Fortunately, we have enough to hold us over until Saturday.”

  “Perfect.”

  Davante frowned. “Perfect? What you mean, perfect? The last time they were late with a delivery, you threatened to terminate their contract if that happened again.”

  “Well, it’s a new day, man. Lucky for them, they caught me in a good mood.”

  A good mood sponsored by Jemisha Rayford…

  Mordecai continued to his office and sat at the desk, thinking about her. Although she came across as standoffish when he met her at the office, she seemed relaxed at lunch. Maybe it was because at the office, his visit was unannounced and she was the type that wasn’t too fond of surprises. He thought about how she would be today – distant or the woman he had lunch with? There was only one way to find out.

  * * *

  Mordecai typed the address to the first house into his GPS and after a ten-minute drive, he pulled up, parking behind a navy blue Honda Element on the street out front. He figured it must be Jemisha’s car.

  One thing he didn’t like about the place already was the closeness of the houses. As soon as you walked out the door somebody would be in your grill. He wouldn’t be able to step out on the porch in his boxers without the neighbors next door getting an eye full.

  Strike one.

  Then there was the matter of the front yard. It was too small. It was so small, he could cut the grass with a weed eater instead of a lawnmower.

  Strike two.

  The door was open when he stepped onto the porch. He pulled the storm door and stepped inside.

  “Hellooo,” he sang.

  “Oh. Be right there.”

  Jemisha’s voice bounced off the walls in the empty house. She came walking from a back room with a notebook in her hand, looking professional.

  Mordecai’s eyes grew as he took her all in. She gave off a business-casual vibe today – looked so good, she made his pupils widen to take her all in. She wore a pair of dark blue jeans that hugged her hips, a white, fitted blouse and a pair of gold sandals. A long, gold necklace with matching gold earrings and a gold MK watch accentuated the outfit. Her hair was up in a ponytail, a bang hanging to the left side of her face, giving her a girlish look. How old was she, anyway?

  “Hey. Sorry about that,” she said. “I like to get to showings early to scope out the place. What do you think about the location?”

  The pink gloss on her lips immedia
tely had his eyes settling there. Goodness, they looked sweeter than a ripe pineapple. He cleared his throat. Licked his lips. Suddenly it felt warm in the house, or was it just him? Being around her was doing a number on his senses. What was it about her that elicited this reaction from him when no other woman could pique his interest to this degree?

  Her eyes narrowed. She thought she’d had his attention. He was looking directly at her but hadn’t said a word. “Um, Mr.—I mean, Mordecai?”

  He blinked. “Oh, sorry. I was thinking about the—um—”

  “You’re at a loss for words. That’s a first.”

  A beautiful woman will do that to a man. He considered saying it briefly before deciding not to. He was here to look at a house. It was time to get serious. “I was thinking about my first impression as I walked up.”

  “And what was that?”

  “The house is nice. I like the brick—love that it’s two levels. The front yard is a lot smaller than I like.”

  “Ah, see...details,” she said. “That’s something the form would’ve addressed, you know, the one you didn’t fill out.”

  “Yeah, that’s my bad.”

  “Anyway, since we’re already here, let’s do a walk-through and see what this place has to offer. I noticed right away that the living room was large. It has Brazilian Cherrywood floors that extend down the hallway and into the family room. The floors alone are enough to sell the home in my opinion. They’re gorgeous and well maintained. It appears to have been recently redone although that bit of information is not specified in the listing.” She double-checked the document she’d brought with her. “Nope, it’s not listed, but what do you think?”

  What did he think about what? His eyes were glued to her shapely figure while she talked about the floor. And he was having visions of kids running around playing – two boys and a girl – and he and Jemisha were the parents of those kids. He was picturing a life with the woman. His agent. He could envision the alone nights they’d share eating popcorn and watching the latest movie or having a family barbecue. He could see her cooking and he’d be in the kitchen behind her, kissing on her neck, lifting her up to the island and –