Taming Mr. Charming (The Taming Series Book 2)

by Nia Arthurs

  I giggled, chugging down the rest of my water with the other hand.

  “So, I thought now would be a nice time for you to visit my church.”

  Say what now?

  “Excuse me?”

  “Yeah, since we’re in a committed relationship, I figured you should start attending my church in the mornings and then you can go to yours in the night.”

  “But I love going to Holy Ghost Gym and we don’t have service at night. Plus how come you don’t have to come to my service with me?”

  Charles cut into his steak, “Your doctrines are a little more controversial than I prefer.”

  I folded my arms, “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I have nothing against the Kingdom of God. But I believe that you guys put way too much energy in preaching that. I mean, look at the way you refer to the Bible as a Constitution or how you always rail against nice traditions like Christmas and Easter, it’s all too exaggerated for my tastes.”

  I wiped my mouth with my napkin. “First of all, the Bible is a Constitution. It’s a book of instructions from the Creator to the created. Second, where have you been? I love Christmas! My only issue concerns a world that wants to celebrate a baby who poops his pants and shoves away the man who brought the Kingdom of God to earth.”

  Charles’ soulful eyes shone with conviction as he quipped, “Your theology is almost like a cult, Mia. The Good News is about Calvary and the Resurrection. You take this Kingdom thing too seriously.”

  “Oh, you know what. You’re right. Jesus, who by the way is the Savior of the freaking world, preached the Kingdom, but hey he was a zealot too right? A crazy person spouting nonsense? I’m sure He had no clue what He was talking about.”

  “Mia,” Charles rolled his eyes, “sit, calm down.”

  “No, Charles, I think I’m going to stand. In fact, I think I’m going to walk away. I think I’m going home.”

  Charles threw up his hands in irritation, “Fine. Walk home. It’ll give you time to cool off and see that you’re overreacting.”

  I got up and stalked out of the restaurant with a scoff. Grabbing my cell phone from my pocket, I dialed Peyton’s number. He answered on the second ring. I could hear the sound of laughter and conversation in the background.

  “Mia?”

  “Peyton, I hate to bother you, but would you come pick me up? I’d take the bus but there’s none running around here right now.”

  “Sure. Where are you?”

  I gave him directions and heard his muttered conversation to someone in the room, before a door slammed.

  “I’m coming. Just sit tight. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “Okay,” I hung up.

  Peyton must have broken a whole pile of traffic violations for he parked the Acura in front of me in less than five.

  “Hey,” he walked out and opened the door for me.

  “Hi, I’m sorry. I would have called Mr. Reyes but they’re doing that thing for Archie…”

  “It’s okay. I’m glad you called.”

  “You want to talk about it?” Peyton asked gently as we cruised around the city for a bit. Sensing that I needed time to revamp myself, he didn’t say anything more for a few minutes.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “Nowhere. I’m just cruising down Marine Parade.”

  I laughed, “You’re wasting gas. We can go back to Mel’s now.”

  “Nah,” Peyton glanced at me as the streetlights played over the planes of his face, “I had to share you once tonight. Let me have you a little longer before I have to share you again.”

  His words touched me somewhere deep inside. I rested my head on the back of the seat and closed my eyes, listening to the sweet swoosh of the ocean as the breeze played happily with my hair.

  Tonight had been a disaster. I’d never guessed that I would have ended up with Peyton at the end either. It was so easy to lean on him, to take the promises that he made to me and make them out to mean something deeper… something more. Those thoughts made me dizzy. Peyton’s presence made me feel safe. And the breeze made me feel sleepy.

  “Peyton,” I mumbled in the haze between sleep and consciousness, “I love you,”

  I woke up a few hours later in my own bed. The sun was just peeking through my curtains. My shoes were off, but I was still in the clothes from last night. I pushed off the bed and tried to remember how I’d gotten there, but couldn’t. As far as I knew, I hadn’t been drinking last night unless Charles slipped something in my water. The last thing I recalled was falling asleep in Peyton’s car. Had Peyton brought me here? I imagined the tall white dude carrying me up the stairs. How did he open my apartment? Did I do it? I had no idea. And I wasn’t a light feather. I cringed to think of Peyton straining under the weight of my mass. And my room! I surveyed the mess of clothes strewn to and fro and the makeup items littered all over my dresser and groaned. I’d meant to clean up the place, but I’d never gotten around to it.

  I heard a frenzied knock on my door and groggily got up to answer it. I checked the peephole and noticed the wide round frames of Mrs. Bethel’s glasses. I yawned, covering my mouth with one hand and opening the door with the other.

  “Good morning Mrs. Bethel,”

  Today, she wore a light pink oversized cotton blouse tucked into a green and red wide skirt. No one could take away Mrs. B’s flamboyant style.

  “Hi Mia, I’ve just come to check on you after last night.”

  “Oh, I’m fine. Did I disturb you?”

  “No, no. But,” she readjusted her glasses, “I’ve been noticing that pale young man coming in and out of your apartment. And last night the way he was holding you in his arms and carrying you up the stairs was quite scandalous. Mia, I hope you’re being careful … you know how your father feels about people like that.”

  I resisted the urge to fight with Mrs. Bethel and correct her ignorance. In Belize, we have very strict expectations on our younger generation to respect their elders. As my country has become westernized, however, the courtesy and manners that the old people prize is being slowly flushed down the toilet. The bombastic attitude of our mothers and their readiness to spank, whip, and hit dirty mouths is the only boundary between complete and utter chaos as seen with the American children. Instead of diving into an argument, I smiled sweetly and said,

  “I’m sorry. I must have misunderstood you. I’m not to hang out with people like what?”

  Mrs. Bethel caught on to my subtle defensiveness and drew back slightly, “White people don’t belong with people like us. They use and abuse and then they leave.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Bethel. I’ll keep that in mind,” I remarked through clenched teeth and slammed the door before I did or said something that I’d regret.

  Not too long ago narrow-minded views would not have fazed me. I grew up with a father who enjoyed ranting on the unfairness and injustice of foreigners and our government’s inability to calm the storm of immigrants. Daddy didn’t have a problem with hardworking immigrants who remained poor. Oh no. His issue began when the immigrants grew successful. Nothing could irritate my father more than a pale skinned foreigner gaining a modicum of success above the ‘black brothers’. Arguing with Daddy always turned personal so I didn’t bother to challenge his thinking anymore.

  Getting to know Peyton and even Spencer had changed my outlook. I wasn’t a pioneer for white people in Belize or anything, but I had a better understanding of racism and ignorance. Peyton was kind and funny and intelligent. He was successful in America and successful in Belize because he was smart and he worked hard. It had nothing to do with his skin color or the brown tones of our government and Belizean citizens. It irked me to hear judgments being piled on Peyton without just cause. I held no delusions that Mrs. Bethel would keep her observations to herself. But I knew that whenever my father and I came to a head about this, I had personal experience with a man whose only sin was to be born white.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

>   I headed to work later that day and greeted each customer with a smile and a wave, trying to erase the distinctly nasty taste in my mouth stemming from Mrs. Bethel’s loaded comments this morning. I had just finished ringing up the change of a middle aged woman who had bought a gown for her daughter’s quinceñera, when I noticed a woman browsing through the jewelry section. She was a tall Caucasian with fiery red hair, consisting of deeper orange tones than Peyton’s. Her eyes were deep green and they were kind. I got out from behind the counter and walked up to her.

  “Hi, can I help you?”

  “No, ah good. Thanks.” She smiled. I blinked twice. The Creole accent to her words was completely natural, but totally unexpected. Immediately, my soul took to the young lady. Apart from the cosmetic beauty of her face, there was a genuineness about her that reminded me of Peyton.

  “Okay, sure,” I woodenly returned to my post behind the counter. This was it! I could feel it in my bones. Now I just had to subtly get her and Peyton in the same room together and … baam! No more Peyton confusion.

  A few minutes later, the Mystery Girl walked up to the counter to pay for her selections.

  Oooh, she had a great sense of style too.

  “Hey, nice choices,” I said innocently.

  She grinned, “Thanks. I just got a new job so I thought I’d treat myself to something good

  “Cool. Where do you work?”

  “At the hospital down on Freetown Road. I’m a nurse.”

  Oh my gosh, this was just getting better and better.

  “That is great! Would you be interested in joining the Mia’s Designs Mail club?”

  “What’s that?” Mystery Girl asked as I handed her the plastic bag filled with clothes.

  I eagerly answered, “It’s uh- a new initiative I’m starting up, where I get your name and contact information so I can let you know when we get new stock that you’re interested in.”

  “Cool.”

  She wrote down her information on a scrap piece of paper. I surreptitiously glanced at the name…MAGGIE DUPREE.

  It suited her.

  “Thanks!” I called as she left the store. Estefan smiled at her and opened the door. She sent a wave and a wide toothed grin his way and continued down the street.

  I moved to stand before my tan security guard, “I know you barely understand what I’m saying but I have a good feeling about that girl. Peyton is going to love her. Don’t you agree?”

  Estefan smiled, completely clueless and probably thinking, ‘this girl is loca’.

  Three days later, I dragged Peyton to the Medical Associates Clinic on Freetown Road. I’d had my work cut out to convince him to accompany me but after coughing on everything I possibly could over the weekend, he finally agreed. I closed the shop for that morning and tore Peyton away from his important work.

  Things between us were surprisingly okay. Last Thursday I told Peyton that I loved him. He hadn’t brought it up since. He hadn’t even mentioned carrying me up the stairs that night. If he had I would have felt better. I could clarify that I meant the phileo love; I loved him as a brother. I would assure him that the words were not a big deal and then we’d laugh about it. But we hadn’t. It lingered like an unspoken secret in the air. For some reason, those three little words hung over my head, creating suspense in my heart. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. That’s why I needed Peyton and Maggie to hit it off. Maybe if I got Peyton happily situated with someone else, I could cut him off as an option. I would focus on Charles, eventually marry him (if he ever apologized for his act on Thursday) and everyone would live happily ever after.

  Peyton rested his arm over the back of my chair. My eyes darted through the room. I hoped that Maggie didn’t see us like this. I didn’t want her to get the wrong impression.

  “So, what are we doing here?”

  “I’m getting my blood pressure checked.”

  In Belize, a nurse was licensed to take your blood pressure. I already knew the nurse I wanted and thanks to some legal Facebook research, I knew her shifts and her responsibilities. Some would call it stalking. I preferred the term ‘reconnaissance’

  “What? I thought you were here because of your throat.”

  “Right,” I was busted and all out of excuses. Except for one. “God healed me.” No one can diss the God card.

  The corner of his lips twitched, “God healed you.”

  “That’s right.”

  He crossed his arms, “Mia, what’s going on?”

  “Mia Johnson?” Maggie stated looking up from a clipboard, “Oh, hi!” she greeted cheerfully when she linked my face to the name.

  “Hi,” I got up and hugged her, yanking Peyton along as I did so. His perplexed expression only grew more so when I enthused, “This is my friend, Peyton. Peyton, this is Maggie.”

  “Hey,” Peyton nodded at her, squeezing my arm tightly in censure. He was on to me. I needed to lay this on thick.

  “Come over to this room let me get your measurements in privacy.”

  “Thanks,” Once more, I hauled Peyton along as he stubbornly fixed his face into a frown. He needed to smile. He looked so much more handsome when he smiled.

  Maggie did her thing, while I chatted away on the date of my new stock and how the stress of the store always raised my blood pressure. She nodded at the appropriate times and gave the impression that she was genuinely interested in what I was saying despite her sure movements with the medical instruments. Peyton was throwing a fit in the tiny space of his silent glare which he continuously tossed towards me. I knew I should have been more subtle. His innate charm would have won Maggie over if only he’d gone into this thing a bit more ignorant. Well, it looked like my matchmaking skills would really be put to the test this morning.

  “Maggie, Peyton’s new to Belize…” I began.

  “Actually, I’ve been here for almost two months.”

  I waved away his comment, “And he’s been going on and on about the Andy Palacio tribute concert this Friday night.”

  “Really? I love Andy Palacio’s music. I tried to get tickets but it was all sold out.”

  “You don’t say.” I gasped, hoping I was a better actor now than when I was in the high school play and choked on the lines for Cinderella. I knew that Garifuna music was Maggie’s favorite because of her Facebook. Thank you, Internet.

  “Actually, I prefer-”

  My elbow shot out and caught Peyton solidly in the stomach. I knocked the wind out of him and he bent over at the waist, holding his middle.

  “What was that?”

  “Sorry, it was a knee jerk reaction.”

  Maggie looked at me strangely, but didn’t question the shenanigans. “Anyway, as I was saying, Peyton has extra tickets and no one to go with.”

  “I-” Before he could say anything stupid, I cut him a look. “I do,” he amended.

  “Well, I’d love to go, if you don’t mind the company.”

  “That would be perfect!” I nearly yelled.

  Maggie took out a stethoscope and recorded my heart beat. “Whoa, you really are excited about this thing.”

  Peyton took my hand in his and said in mock sweetness, “She’s a real gem,”

  Maggie commented distractedly, “Hey sir, would you not hold her hand? You’re making her heart beat out of her chest over here. And I need her to calm down.”

  Feeling like I had just walked down the hall in my underpants; I shook my hand out of Peyton’s grasp and clenched my teeth as he gave me a surveying look.

  “So back to the concert, I think I’ll go use the bathroom while you two exchange numbers and detail this thing out.”

  “But-” Maggie began to protest. I removed the blood pressure cuff from around my hand and patted her on the shoulder with it, “I gotta pee.”

  I made my way slowly to the bathroom, washed my hands, tinkled a bit, and then washed my hands again before returning to the section of the hospital where I left Peyton and Maggie. When I pushed the curtain blockin
g the room from sight to the side, they were laughing and gazing into each other’s eyes, totally vibing together. This was good. I was happy. Peyton would fall deliriously in love and Charles would come to his senses and apologize any day now.

  “Thanks for everything Maggie,” Peyton said, the charming face that I knew firmly in place, “I’ll see you Friday,”

  “Looking forward to it,” Maggie twirled her hair between her fingers. I squinted at her obvious flirting, but shrugged it off and silently followed Peyton out of the hospital. Knowing that his silence wouldn’t last forever, I waited out the tense quiet which lasted until both of us were securely in the car. As soon as the car door slammed on my behind and Peyton rounded the vehicle and got in on the other side, he yelled,

  “Mia Elizabeth Johnson, what the heck was that? Did you just bamboozle me and that poor nurse into going on a date?”

  There it was.

  “I knew you wouldn’t do it on your own.” I defended, “And look how well it turned out.”

  “I don’t even know her,” Peyton sputtered.

  “That’s why you’re going out… so you can get to know her better.”

  He remained unconvinced. I pressed.

  “I can give you her Facebook and Instagram. And don’t worry; I checked all her posts to make sure she wasn’t a psychopath or a mass murderer.”

  “Right, because the best kind of background check is done on Facebook,”

  I pouted, “I don’t like your tone, Mister.”

  “Well, I don’t like your meddling.”

  “Hey, we had a deal. I’m keeping my end of it.”

  Peyton rolled his eyes, “you are something else.”

  “I am a professional. And after your date on Friday I know that you’ll be thanking me.”

  Though he strained to keep his angry tone, I could tell that Peyton was more amused than upset. And with people like me in his life, you had to laugh to keep from exploding. He put the car in gear and started driving in the direction of my store.

  “So what about this woman made you think she was right for me?”