by Tina Martin
“This room,” she said with brightened eyes. “Look at it! Isn’t it amazing?”
His heart was drumming in his chest and she’d only screamed because she liked the room? “Are you kidding me?” he asked.
“What? You don’t like it?”
“I thought you were being attacked or something. What in the world is wrong with you today?”
“Why do you keep asking me that? I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not fine. You’re not acting like yourself. Let’s just call it a day.”
“No. A few more bedrooms and we’ll be done.”
Mordecai sighed. He was done with the antics. Done with the showing. It’s not like he could focus, anyway. “No,” he said taking her hand.
She winced.
Still holding her hand, he looked at it and said, “Your finger’s bleeding.”
“My finger isn’t—my finger!”
She rushed to the master bathroom, turned on the cold water and ran it over the tip of her finger.
“Do you have any Band-aids?”
“No. Only women with kids keep Band-aids in their purses.”
“Well, here,” he said taking some tissue, wrapping it around her finger. “This showing is over.”
“I’m not stopping the showing just because my finger is bleeding.”
Mordecai placed his hands on her face and angled her head so she was looking directly at him. “I’m stopping the showing because I’m the client and I’m done.”
Her eyes welded with his. She could see the magnificence in the hazel goodness of them. Gosh, he had eyes to die for. What a beautiful man.
Stop it, Jemisha. He’s the enemy. You’ve been doing a good job of being a nutcase. Don’t let him get to you now. Operation Make-Him-Run, remember? Get rid of him. Seal the deal. Make him think you’re completely nuts.
She blinked away from the beauty of his eyes and said in a dark, creepy tone, “Get yo hands off of me. I don’t know you. Who do you think you are?”
“You know who I am.”
“Don’t you ever touch me again. Are you crazy?”
“No, but apparently you are. I’m out. Call me when your sanity returns.”
“I’m not the one who’s insane here!”
Mordecai continued down the stairs. He sat in the car. What in the world had just transpired? Jemisha had completely lost her mind. Why was she still inside the house when he was already in his car, ready to bounce?
“Come on out of the house girl,” he mumbled. He felt weird about leaving her at the house alone. He, at least, wanted to wait until she locked up and was safely inside of her vehicle. He sat there and waited.
Meanwhile, Jemisha was inside doing her happy dance. She even called Savannah and told her that her plan had worked. She’d run Mordecai off and she didn’t have to worry about him bothering her again. So, why was he still sitting in the parking lot when she stepped out onto the porch to lock up?
She walked to her car, didn’t look his way but heard him start the engine. She got into her car then backed out. He was behind her for a few turns and then he went on his way.
“So long, sucker!” she said, laughing. “I did it. I actually did it. I’m still broke, but I did it. And on the first try, too. I knew he wouldn’t last. Way to go, me!”
She looked at her poor finger still wrapped in the tissue Mordecai had wrapped around it – a small price to pay for getting rid of a nuisance. She stopped by CVS on her way home and bought a box of Band-aids. After she’d showered and prepared for bed, she wrapped it. Sore finger and all…she would sleep good tonight. She’d need a good night’s rest because come morning, she’d have to work extra hard to find a new client since intentionally getting rid of Mordecai.
She picked up her cell to plug it to the charger when it vibrated, signaling she had a new missed call, email, voicemail or text message. She didn’t know which until she looked at the phone and saw a text from Mordecai:
Mordecai: how’s the finger?
She rolled her eyes.
“What do you care about my finger?” she mumbled.
She angrily typed a response.
Jemisha: fine
Mordecai: how are you?
Jemisha: fine
Mordecai: You weren’t yourself today.
Jemisha: I’m fine
Mordecai: can you say something other than ‘fine’?
Jemisha: I’m ‘okay’. Is that better?
Mordecai: I hope you really are. I was a little worried.
Worried? Why was he worried? That implied he cared about her, even if only a little. She replied:
Jemisha: You don’t know me well enough to be worried about me. You don’t know me at all actually.
Mordecai: I know whatever today was, ‘that’ wasn’t you, Jemisha.
He was right. Impressive. He’d known her for all of two seconds and could tell when something was off. That player radar of his could probably read a lot of women so why be impressed by it? Hadn’t he had enough practice?
She plugged the phone into the charger and rested her head. She wasn’t going to text or call him back. This needed to be the end. Her focus needed to be back on business – not a man.
Chapter 12
Mordecai was at one of his gyms – the one closest to his townhouse. The one his friend Davante managed. Davante was usually the first to arrive at three in the morning since a lot of people, especially business professionals, liked to work out early. The gym officially opened every day at 4:00 a.m., even on weekends, and closed at 11:00 p.m. Whenever he dropped by, it was typically around eight, but this morning, he got there at three. He needed to work off some frustration. The house showing didn’t go as planned yesterday and his relationship with Jemisha wasn’t what it should’ve been. He was hoping for a least a friendship by now. Even after texting her last night to check on her, she was standoffish and defensive. When had he ever had to work so hard for a woman’s attention?
This morning, he ran three treadmill miles in twenty minutes. He spent another twenty on the weight machine and did a round of a hundred pushups. His royal blue tank top was now navy blue since it was soaked with sweat.
Davante walked in holding a McDonald’s coffee cup.
“Ay—what you doing here?” he asked Mordecai, glancing at his watch. “My watch must be broken.”
Mordecai grinned. “I felt like working out here today. It’s nothing for you to read into, D.”
“Whatever you say, big dawg. Imma go put my stuff down.”
Mordecai grabbed a white towel, wiped his face and cracked open a bottle of water. He chugged ounces like it was just a mere sip and just as quickly opened another bottle. He walked to the back office, grabbed a change of clothes and after taking a quick shower, he returned to his office to find Davante sitting at his desk.
“What is it, man?” Mordecai asked.
“Funny you should ask. I was going to ask you the same thing, but I think I know what’s up now.”
“I’m sure you don’t.”
“It’s this house-hunting thing—it’s got you stressed out. I’m telling you—it’s probably not the right time. Why don’t you put it off for a few months? It’ll give you time to get yourself back together, man. Your head ain’t straight.”
Mordecai sighed. He’d thought about doing just that. The last thing he wanted to do was rush the home-buying process and end up with something he didn’t like or that wouldn’t suit his needs in the long run. And he definitely didn’t want to buy a house only to learn later that he couldn’t afford to make the mortgage payments.
And Jemisha…
Maybe he was wrong about her – wrong about trying to schmooze her into a relationship with him. It wasn’t as easy with her as it was with other women. In the back of his mind, he knew it wouldn’t be with a woman of character and substance. For a man so accustomed to having women fall at his feet, how was he going to deal with one who wouldn’t give him the time of day?
After
what he saw yesterday, did he want to deal with her at all?
“Man, Imma get out of your hair and get the gym ready,” Davante said when he noticed Mordecai had zoned out. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Yeah. Okay,” Mordecai replied evenly.
He sat at his desk and looked at the print-out of the Arboretum house where Jemisha had taken him yesterday. He liked certain elements of the house, but couldn’t pay much attention to it because of her wacky behavior. He wanted to see it again. Perhaps he’d hire a new agent – one who knew the area better than Jemisha.
He balled up the paper and tossed it to the garbage can. He glanced at the clock on the wall opposite of his desk. Ten ‘til five.
Without a second thought, he picked up his cell and called Harding. The voicemail picked up after four rings. He didn’t bother leaving a message.
It was just after nine when Harding was calling him back.
He answered, “What’s up, bro?”
“Ay, did you really call me at five o’clock in the morning?”
“I did.”
“Then it must be urgent. What’s going on?”
“It’s not urgent—”
“It is,” Harding said. “You’ve never called me so early. What’s on your mind?”
Mordecai massaged his temple. “I honestly wasn’t aware of the time when I called you. My bad. I’m not thinking clearly these days. This house situation is messing with me.” And this woman situation…
“Are you changing your mind about the house?”
“Yes, I mean, no. I’m not changing my mind. I think it’s the right time for me to buy a house, but this girl—”
“What girl? Jemisha?”
“Yeah. Jemisha. How much do you know about her?”
“I know her. I mean, she’s decent. Smart. One of Savannah’s best friends.”
“Okay, listen at this—she emails me Sunday night, tells me she has a property to show me on Monday. I met her out there at the house and this chick was whacked the heck out—”
“What?” Harding asked with a chuckle.
“You heard me. She looked like she’d just stepped out of one of those hurricane simulators. Her hair was all over the place…she spilled coffee, chocolate or something on her blouse and she was just out of it. She didn’t have on a stitch of makeup and her clothes looked tacky. I don’t know if she was drunk, suffering from heat exhaustion or what, but something was definitely off.”
“And that bothered you why?”
“Isn’t it obvious? She’s my agent.”
“Okay, so she had an off day. So what? Cut the girl some slack.”
“It wasn’t just an off day. She went from top shelf to bottom shelf in a matter of two days.”
Harding chuckled again. “Are you that full of yourself that you think women are supposed to walk around looking like a million bucks every second of the day? Since becoming a mother, Savannah doesn’t have the time she used to have. I don’t expect her to look like a model every day. Most days, her hair is thrown back into a ponytail and she wears sweats, but she’s comfortable. She’s taking care of my child and she’s beautiful – even more so now than ever. I say that to say this—you’ve always been after superficial women. Now, you’ve run up on a real woman and you don’t know what to do with her.”
“Man—”
“You can deny it all you want, but I know you have a thing for Jemisha. If she’s a woman you’re thinking of pursuing, then maybe you should stop looking at the girl for who she is on the outside and find out the person she is on the inside.”
“Judging from what I witnessed yesterday, maybe I should just find a new agent.”
“Don’t do that, man. Jemisha is Savannah’s best friend. I can’t have you stressing out my wife with your nonsense.”
“How will I be stressing Savannah out?”
“Because as soon as you do something rash like fire Jemisha, she’s getting on the phone with Savannah. You know how this works. Women stick together like glue. Plus, if you switch agents, you’ll be cheating Jemisha out of a commission and according to Savannah, she’s already struggling.”
“Struggling?” Mordecai asked. Jemisha was struggling? That was news to him.
“Yeah. She moved to Wilmington to start her business but she hasn’t been getting the clients she needs to stay afloat. Her office space will probably be the first to go.”
And she was about to lose her office, too? “But she acts like she has it all together,” he said.
“She does because you just described her as whacked out?”
“So, what I witnessed yesterday was her stressed out?”
“Probably so. Look, I can’t tell you what to do. At the end of the day, you make your own decisions since you’ll be the one who has to live with them. But hey, I have to run to a staff meeting. We’ll finish this later.”
“Alright, man.”
Mordecai put the phone down and thought this through. He recalled Jemisha telling him business was slow but according to Harding, it wasn’t just slow – it was nonexistent. Maybe she didn’t tell him that outright because who wanted to admit that their business wasn’t going as planned. Then again, maybe she hadn’t said anything because truthfully, it was none of his business. If his business was failing, he certainly wouldn’t be itching to tell anyone about it.
“Hmm,” he said. The picture was starting to get much clearer. Ms. Real Estate wasn’t so perfect after all. She was struggling. If only she could find him a house…
He stood up, grabbed his keys and his phone. He wouldn’t give up on her just yet. She owed him a repeat showing of the Arboretum house and he intended on getting it.
* * *
Jemisha responded to a message she received through her website’s contact page. A customer wanted to sell their house and was inquiring about her services and availability. She replied with her cell phone number and hoped the inquiry would generate a positive lead.
In the meantime, she did what she did every day – review available listings. She’d already printed out a stack and was going through them all, familiarizing herself just in case she got a new client. She’d already ruled out Mordecai. She was certain he wasn’t coming back after yesterday evening.
She left her desk for a quick visit to the bathroom. She washed her hands, raked strands of her hair back in place and put a little gloss on her lips. When she stepped out, she was beyond shocked to see Mordecai Champion sitting in one of the chairs facing her desk. She frowned. Was she imagining things? She’d only stepped away from her desk for a few minutes and – boom – there he was sitting there like a…
Like a…
Client.
A client? She thought for sure she’d gotten rid of him. And here he was in a pair of jeans and a red and black lumberjack shirt with his legs crossed, looking all roguish and confident like a citified, urban cowboy about to take his horse to the old town road.
Taking a few slow steps toward her desk, she narrowed her eyes, still not believing he was actually here.
“Do you have something in your eye?” he asked.
And there was that signature smirk of his again…
“No. My eyes are just fine.”
“Oh. I was wondering why they’re squinted. There’s no sun in here unless I’m bright enough to make your eyes do that weird thing they’re doing.” Big, pretty eyes.
“My eyes are fine.”
“Fine, fine, fine. My eyes are fine,” he teased. “You love the word fine, don’t you? Everything’s just fine...”
“I didn’t say everything. I said my eyes.”
“Are you sure? They’re still lopsided, or is it those fake lashes that have you blinking all funny?”
“I don’t wear fake lashes. Why are you in my office?”
He stared at her. Her hair was neat and hanging beautifully today. Her makeup was perfect. Lips plump, red and shiny – went well with the red dress that hugged her curves and black heels she had on. H
e also noticed the Band-aid on her finger. “I’m here because you’re my agent, and now that you look like you’re back to normal, I would like to see the Arboretum house that you were supposed to show me yesterday.”
Bummer. So her plan hadn’t worked. “I’ve already shown you the house.”
“No,” Mordecai said shaking his head. “You didn’t show me the house. You showed me a woman who was off her rocker. I want the real estate agent who I’m looking at right now to take me to the Arboretum house and give me a proper walkthrough. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”
“I can’t do that,” she said sitting down.
“Why can’t you? Ain’t nobody else in here. What’s holding you back, Jemisha?”
“What’s holding me back?” she asked. “What’s holding me back?” she asked again trying to buy time to come up with a response that would get him out of her office. It had to be something he could believe – something that would send him away.
She said, “Okay. I just got my period and I’m fresh out of tampons! That’s what’s holding me back. I’m not in the mood for this crap today. Ugh!” She growled.
Really, Jemisha. You went there?
Mordecai got up and walked out of her office. When the door closed behind him, she said, “Wow. That was easy.”
She resumed working as she was before he showed up.
Chapter 13
“I can’t believe this girl has me buying tampons,” Mordecai said as he walked to the drugstore at the end of the block. He walked in and mazed his way through a few aisles before finding the feminine products. He took a pack of tampons – the same kind he’d bought for his sister once upon a time, then cruising another aisle, he grabbed a family-size bottle of Advil.
At the register, he was greeted by a happy-faced, redhead guy who rocked a thick, unkempt beard. Mordecai placed the items on the counter.