Pride and Consequence

by Altonya Washington

  “Very mildly,” Zakira sighed, choosing not to skirt the issue. “My husband would pick last night to decide to surprise me.”

  “I’d heard he has cancer.”

  Zakira managed a nod, her eyes closing. “I’m happy to say he’s recovered.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful news! I can see why he wanted to surprise you.”

  “Yes,” Zakira replied, her tone revealing nothing.

  Mallory cleared her throat. “So, what would be a good time for me to come in to interview you?”

  Zakira suggested a few dates, but assured Mallory that any time was fine for the review.

  After the call, Zakira buried her face in her hands and prayed she would survive. As if on cue, the office door flew open and Malik stormed into the room.

  “You could’ve told me you were leaving, Zaki. I searched all over that house for you.”

  Zakira was instantly on the defensive. “I hope you don’t expect me to answer to you? Inform you of all my comings and goings? I didn’t do that before you left and I’m not about to start now.”

  Malik massaged the back of his neck. “Didn’t you think I’d want to be here, too?”

  “Well, you’re here now, aren’t you?”

  “Zaki, we won’t get anywhere like this.”

  Zakira stood and pounded her fist to the desk. “Get anywhere? Where are we going, Malik? You seem to love traveling on your own.”

  Malik smiled, realizing that now he even relished their arguments. He strolled a bit closer to the desk. “No matter how much you hate to admit it, this place is mine too. I want to know what’s going on.”

  Zakira stepped from behind the desk. “What’s going on? What’s going on is that since you’ve been gone, I have expanded this business. While it’s too soon to boast my success, I feel good about it. What’s going on is that you have done this despicable thing and now you come back expecting everything to be the same.”

  “Zaki—”

  “Excuse me, Mrs. Badu?”

  Zakira and Malik looked to the door of the office to see the restaurant manager.

  “I’m sorry, I heard voices and—”

  “That’s all right,” Zakira assured the tall, stout, honey-complexioned young man. “Justin Flowers, Malik Badu. Malik, Justin is the restaurant’s manager.”

  Malik offered his hand. “Good to meet you, man.”

  Jason quickly obliged. “Same here, Mr. Badu. You got everybody around this place talking already.”

  “I can imagine,” Malik acknowledged with a dimpled grin.

  “Mrs. Badu, should I tell the rest of the staff to expect introductions today?”

  “Yes, Justin, that sounds good. We’ll get started as soon as we finish up in here.”

  “Great,” Justin said, reaching over to shake hands with Malik again. “It was a pleasure.”

  Malik smiled before turning back to Zakira. He was impressed by how quickly she switched into business mode.

  Zakira was eager to leave their conversation behind and introducing her husband to their staff seemed to be a good way of doing that. That is, until Malik began to charm everyone. When they arrived in the kitchen, he took an even greater interest. Malik was so involved with the chefs that Zakira was able to slip away without him noticing.

  Later, Malik returned to the office. He couldn’t deny how impressed he was with everything. And he couldn’t believe how much Zakira had accomplished in such a short time.

  “Well, yes considering we just opened our doors, I feel very flattered that the directors are interested in dining here. I’ll connect you with our manager and he’ll assist you with the reservations. We’ll see you soon.” Zakira said, then set the receiver down and took a seat on the edge of her desk.

  Malik pushed himself from against the doorjamb where he had been watching. The ease with which she handled the caller raised his eyebrows and aroused a few other emotions. This was a new facet of her character, and it was a part of her that he wanted to know.

  “That sounded important,” he noted, strolling into the office with his hands hidden in the deep pockets of his saggy jeans.

  Zakira smiled and offered a little shrug. “It was very important. It seems the directors from the housing committee of this district want to have dinner here the night after Thanksgiving.”

  Malik uttered a soft whistle. “Damn, our name has already reached the city officials? I’d like the chance to meet them.”

  Zakira’s easy expression faded. “Well, I hope so, since you were the first person Debbie mentioned when she called. It seems your unexpected appearance last night has made you a hot commodity.” She smoothed the short flaring cream skirt beneath her as she took a seat behind the desk. “Makes it very easy for you to resume control of the business.”

  “That’s not why I did this, Zaki,” Malik said, the heavy dreads brushing his cheeks when he shook his head. “The only thing on my mind was you. Us.”

  Zakira patted the thick braid that snaked around her head. “That’s not the impression I got this morning. You seemed very eager to have me take a backseat.”

  Malik grinned in spite of himself. “Let’s say I was reacting to what you said…about moving on with your life.”

  “Now I get it,” Zakira whispered, her smoky brown eyes narrowing slightly. “You want to have your cake and eat it, too. First, you want a divorce so I can move on. Now, you’re upset because I’m trying to do it.”

  “Dammit, Zaki, how many times do I have to tell you, I did that because I didn’t know if I was gonna live or die? I didn’t want you hanging on.”

  “You know what, Malik? You’re so busy trying to get me to understand why you did this that you can’t understand what it did to me. It’s like you expect me to bow down and be grateful you’re here, everything else be damned.”

  Malik’s features were twisted into a fierce frown. “Does that mean you want things the way they were before I came back?”

  “Ugggggh!” Zakira raged, her hands curling into tiny fists. “You were right when you said we’re not going to get anywhere like this, so let’s just end this conversation right now.”

  “That’s the best thing I’ve heard today,” Malik snapped before he stormed out of the office.

  “Mr. Badu?”

  Malik was on his way out of the restaurant after the argument with Zakira. When he heard his name, he stopped and turned toward the kitchen. “Didn’t I tell y’all to call me Malik?” he teased, recognizing one of the chefs he’s met earlier that day.

  “Are you leaving?” Kenneth Diamond asked.

  Malik massaged his jaw and glanced toward the stairway. “Yeah, I think I’m done here for the day.”

  Kenneth motioned behind him. “Do you have a few minutes? We want to pick your brain about some of these dishes.”

  “Got a menu?” Malik asked, already forgetting his aggravation.

  Kenneth obliged and led the way into the kitchen. Malik spoke to the other five chefs, but his attention was more focused on the menu selections.

  “Something wrong, man?” Rory Davis asked, noticing Malik’s frown as he scanned the booklet.

  Malik ran a hand through his dreads and shook his head. “This menu is the same as our Richmond restaurant,” he noted.

  “That a problem?” someone asked.

  Malik laid the menu flat on the chrome counter and shrugged. “Well, not really. But a new restaurant should have a new menu. A menu is practically the voice of the restaurant, in my opinion.”

  “Well, what would you suggest?” Sheila Jeffries asked.

  Malik tapped one finger to his chin and debated. “Got an apron?”

  Zakira was on her way out when Michael Renner arrived in the lobby. Malik was leaving the kitchen when he spotted the man who wanted to become a more permanent part of his wife’s life. Zakira stopped on the stairway and waited to see what would happen. She couldn’t have been more surprised. The two men shook hands, and then a wave of silence settled between them
.

  “I, um, for what it’s worth, I want to apologize for last night,” Malik said, his expression sincere. “You’ve got nothing to do with all this drama.”

  Michael waved his hand. “Please, man, I know I was the last person you or Zakira were thinking about last night.”

  Malik gave a slow nod. “Well, I want to thank you for helping her with all the red tape for the warehouse and for being such a good friend to her.”

  “It’s easy to be good to such an angel,” Mike said with a shrug.

  “I agree,” Malik added.

  Mike stepped forward then. “Listen man, I know I’m probably out of line for asking this—”

  “Please,” Malik urged.

  “How could you leave her like that? I mean, shouldn’t you have wanted to spend as much time with her as possible? Especially when it looked like the end was near?”

  Malik took no offense at the tough questions. “As long as I live, I think I’ll regret the way I handled things,” he said. “But as much as I regret it, I don’t think I can ever make it up to her and I regret that even more. You can find Zaki upstairs in her office,” he told Mike and headed out of the lobby.

  Zakira watched him go. Then she closed her eyes to keep her tears at bay.

  Chapter 13

  The sexy gray business suit lay across the bed. Zakira eyed it skeptically, not sure if she should wear it or the new olive-green one she’d purchased a few days earlier. Her brown eyes darted from the bed to the closet, where the other suit was hanging. Deciding to be a bit more daring, she chose the olive-green suit. The skirt reached mid-thigh, while the coat was short and outlined her tiny waist and flattered her cleavage. She was about to head to the closet when the phone rang.

  “This is Zakira.”

  “Hey, it’s me.”

  Zakira sat on the edge of the bed as Eddie’s slightly breathless voice drifted over the line. “Hey. What’s up?”

  “Are you feeling any better?” Eddie asked, sounding worried.

  Smiling, Zakira took a deep breath. It seemed that so much had happened in the span of only a week, she was almost confused by Edwina’s question. “I’m managing.” She assured her sister. “Listen, I’m so sorry about our argument. Malik’s the one who deserves my anger, not you.”

  “You don’t need to apologize. Not for that. I know how shocked I am over Malik’s return. That’s why I decided to give you some space. I can only imagine how you must feel.”

  Zakira stood from the bed and took the gray suit back to her closet. “Hey, I know. Let me make it up to you, anyway. How about lunch? My treat. I know a great place.”

  Eddie chuckled softly on the other end. “I bet you do. And I’d take you up on the offer, if I weren’t back in Richmond.”

  Zakira frowned. “Well, you and Tree could’ve at least said goodbye.”

  “Z, for all I know, Tree’s still in New York.”

  “Wait a minute. What?”

  “We…had a bad fight that night after I got back to the hotel. He walked out…I packed. I was gone before he got back.”

  Zakira closed her eyes and grimaced. “Dammit. Honey, I am so sorry. I guess I don’t need to ask what you fought about?”

  “It’s stupid for us to be fighting over your problems, I know. But for Tree to keep that from you all this time…”

  “I know, I know.”

  Eddie took a deep breath. “Listen, I didn’t call to bring you down. I just wanted you to know I was back home.”

  “All right,” Zakira said, walking back to her bed, “I guess I’ll talk to you when I get back. Hopefully, it won’t be much longer.”

  “Is Malik coming back with you?”

  “Oh, he definitely won’t be coming back with me, but he’ll most likely get back around the same time I do.”

  “How are you going to handle that?”

  “Oh, like I’ve handled everything else so far—in a daze.”

  Eddie laughed. “Well, try not to go crazy and please call if you need me.”

  Zakira smiled. “You know I will. Thanks, love.”

  “Anytime.”

  Zakira set the receiver back in its cradle once the connection was broken and began to get dressed. She had her under things on and was stepping into her skirt when Malik walked into the bedroom.

  Malik watched his wife. His dark eyes followed the path of the skirt as she pulled it over her thighs and hips. When her hands moved to the zipper, he headed over.

  Zakira felt Malik brush her hands away, before he pulled her back against him. The instant she felt his steely form behind her, she moaned. Malik’s wide hands reached around to cup her breasts encased in the lacy white bra. Her nipples rose to firm buds beneath his palms as his lips tugged on her earlobe.

  Arching into the erotic embrace, Zakira’s arms rose to circle Malik’s neck. She gasped when his hand trailed down her stomach to disappear beneath her clothes.

  Suddenly, he pulled away and smiled down at her. Obviously satisfied by the results of his teasing, he straightened Zakira’s bra and zipped her skirt.

  “I’ll see you at the restaurant,” he whispered next to her ear and pressed a soft kiss to her hair. Then he left the room without looking back.

  That evening’s dinner couldn’t have come sooner for Zakira. She had been a mass of nerves during Thanksgiving and she prayed that Malik wouldn’t suggest some emotional meal alone at the hotel suite. She’d have never survived it. She was already over the edge in response to her husband’s unrelenting sexual taunts.

  She smoothed her palms across the smart, chic turquoise suit she’d chosen. Her excitement was evident as she waited for the committee directors to arrive. She sent up a quick prayer that everything would go as planned and headed for the kitchen. The chefs had been instructed to prepare their best dishes and she wanted to be sure everything was in order.

  Finding Malik there robbed her of her questions. She watched him wrap up his conversation with the cooks and then met him as he approached her.

  “Why are you spending so much time down here in the kitchen?” she asked, her luminous brown eyes filled with suspicion.

  Malik’s grin triggered his dimples, and he watched her look around the kitchen before looking back at him. “It’s actually one of the things I was beginning to regret about the business side of running the restaurant. I barely had any time to spend creating. Are they here yet?” he asked, before she could question him further. His dark gaze raked her petite form, loving the way the suit hugged her curves. He took her arm and escorted her to the dining room.

  “We are so pleased you chose to establish your restaurant in this area.”

  Zakira smiled as she shook hands with one of the Better Housing Committee directors. “It seems to be a wonderful area. I loved it from the start.”

  Jeremy Wilcox nodded. “Well, it’s made great strides. Believe me, it wasn’t the most desirable part of town a few years ago.”

  “It’s been one of our major goals to build it up and keep it up.” Stephanie Hanes explained. “With this restaurant and the other establishments in the area, we hope to lure even more businesses.”

  “That’s right. Better businesses will draw the eye of contractors and that means better housing,” Shawn Robertson told them.

  “Well, we hope to be here a very long time. That is, if our cooking doesn’t run us out of town!” Malik teased.

  “We’re willing to bet that won’t happen!” Brian Harris said, once the laughter softened. “What does the menu look like?”

  Zakira couldn’t wait to announce her selections for the evening. “I thought we’d—”

  “Actually, we’ve taken the liberty of having some of our favorites prepared for you all,” Malik was saying as he motioned for the group to head into the dining room. “We’re purchasing our seafood from a very impressive market in San Francisco. Tonight, we’ll start with crab cakes in a white cream sauce, followed by scallop chowder, grilled salmon steaks, steamed vegetables and sou
rdough biscuits.”

  Zakira tried to keep her expression closed as she listened to Malik rattle off the list of unfamiliar dishes. Everyone else raved over the evening’s menu, while taking their places at the table.

  As their guests placed their drink orders, Zakira leaned over and tugged the sleeve of Malik’s maroon jacket. “What are you doing?” she whispered, her tone fierce.

  In response, Malik pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Shh. Just sit back and enjoy it,” he whispered back.

  Zakira held a clenched fist beneath the table as her temper began to mount.

  When Malik left a few minutes later to check on things in the kitchen, Zakira was right behind him and pulled him into the manager’s downstairs office.

  “What are you trying to do, Malik? And don’t act like you have no idea what I’m talking about.”

  Malik’s dark gaze was soft and he appeared calm. “Baby, I thought you wanted this to be something new. I just didn’t think having the same menu as our Richmond place was the way to do that. We ain’t a burger joint, you know.”

  Zakira lost some of her steam. “You’re right,” she conceded, massaging her neck. “Just let me know when you’re going to do something like this. You can’t just make decisions without including me.”

  Malik took offense. “I never had to consult anyone about changes I wanted to make in my restaurant, Zaki.”

  “Well, that was before you left the place to me,” she coolly replied.

  “That’s a moot point now.” Malik told her, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets to hide his clenched fists.

  Zakira tossed a lock of her thick hair across her shoulder and fixed her husband with a firm look. “A moot point? No, it’s not a moot point, Malik. Please don’t make me get technical with you over this.”

  Malik grinned and leaned back to watch her. “Please do,” he urged. “Do get technical.”

  Zakira looked toward the floor, before focusing on his handsome face again. “When you…left, you also left me a letter in which you stated that Badu’s was mine. Remember?”