Places in My Heart

by Sheryl Lister

  “Good night, Morgan.”

  “Good night.” She closed the door, leaned her head against it and released a deep sigh. She was glad one of them had thought about their agreement. Pushing away from the door, Morgan went to shower.

  Afterward she scrubbed her face clean, made a cup of mint tea and curled up on the lounger in her bedroom with her notes from the lawsuit. She couldn’t rid herself of the nagging feeling that she had missed something. She scanned the invoice to see if maybe one of the parts didn’t get shipped, but everything was there. Morgan brought the mug to her lips, took a sip and groaned when she heard the doorbell. Setting the folder aside, she took her tea and went to open the door. “I’m fine,” she said before she’d opened it all the way. “You didn’t need to come all the way over here.”

  “How did you know it was me?” Malcolm asked.

  Morgan rolled her eyes and left him standing there. “Seriously, Malcolm?” She sat on the sofa and tucked her feet beneath her. “You were watching me like you used to whenever you thought some boy was trying to talk to me.”

  He dropped down in a chair. “What did Roland say? And don’t tell me it was nothing. The man was pissed and was loud enough for all of us two tables over to hear him threaten to ruin Drummond. Now, what did he say to you?”

  She raised her eyes to the ceiling and whined, “Why do I have brothers? It was nothing I couldn’t handle. If I’m going to be an agent, I can’t have you running over here every time you think something has happened.” The look on Malcolm’s face said he couldn’t have cared less about what she had said and didn’t plan to leave until she gave him answers. “He called me a B.”

  “He what! When I get done with his ass—”

  “Malcolm, you do not need to handle anything. I took care of it. I told him if I saw one thing in the media, I’d have him in front of a judge before he could call me that again.”

  He leaned back in the chair and chuckled.

  “Satisfied? Now, let me deal with it.”

  Malcolm raised his palms in surrender. “You win.”

  “You didn’t tell Brandon and Khalil, did you?”

  “No, I wanted to talk to you first.”

  “Good. No sense in having all you nuts locked up behind some craziness. Since you’re here, you want some tea?”

  “No, thanks. I’m going home. How’s the dance production coming?”

  “It’s good. I hope you guys will agree to do the dance. I’ll give Justin a couple of days to recuperate from his honeymoon before I ask him.”

  “Are you going to invite Omar?”

  “Hadn’t planned on it. Attending a dance recital doesn’t really fall under the scope of an agent-client relationship.”

  “No, but you know as well as I do there’s more going on. You may not have acted on it yet, but you will.” Malcolm stood, stretched and headed for the door.

  Morgan followed. “I can’t. This may be my only shot at becoming an agent, and I won’t do anything to jeopardize that.”

  He turned back, placed his arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple. “So, you two are attracted to each other,” he said with a chuckle. “Thanks for the confirmation.”

  She punched him in the chest and pushed him toward the door. “Go home.”

  “I’m going. And don’t worry. I’ll keep your secret.” He smiled. “I always have.”

  “I know, and I love you.”

  “See you tomorrow. You want me to pick you up on the bike?”

  “Yeah, come get me. I’ll be ready around one-thirty. I told Mom I’d be there earlier than usual. With Siobhan gone, it’ll just be her and I cooking.”

  “Okay.”

  Morgan kissed her brother on the cheek. “Night, Mal.”

  “Night, sis. Lock up.”

  “I will.”

  She was in big trouble. The mention of riding the motorcycle made her think of Omar’s offer. She wanted to ride the bike...and the man.

  Chapter 7

  Morgan and Malcolm were the first to arrive at their parents’ home Sunday afternoon. They found their mother in the kitchen standing over one of the sinks in the spacious kitchen. The large area had another sink at a center island, tons of counter and cabinet space, an oversize refrigerator and double oven.

  “Well, if it isn’t the daredevil twins,” her mother teased. Though she had changed out of her dress, she still had on her earrings and makeup. As always, her cropped, layered salt-and-pepper hair didn’t have a strand out of place, and her smooth light brown skin was virtually unlined. “How are you two?” Growing up, Malcolm had always been a risk-taker. Morgan had believed she could do anything he did and often mimicked her brother’s antics.

  “Good,” Morgan said, and kissed her cheek.

  Malcolm followed suit, then asked, “Where’s Dad?”

  “He was out back doing something.”

  “Well, I’ll leave you two in here to whip up the goodies.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to rush off, son,” their mother said. “You can always stay and help.”

  Morgan chuckled at the panicked look on Malcolm’s face.

  He mumbled something unintelligible and made a hasty retreat.

  “I guess that means he doesn’t want to help,” Morgan cracked.

  “I guess not,” her mom said with a chuckle and continued to season the chicken resting in a bowl. They were having fried chicken, candied yams, wild rice, mixed greens, green beans and cornbread.

  She washed her hands and went to work slicing yams.

  “How’re you doing with the case?” her mother asked over her shoulder.

  “Okay, I guess. We’re supposed to be getting the rail in for inspection this week.”

  “Your father told me about how you put that lawyer in his place. He thinks you’re going to be fantastic when it’s time for you to take over the legal department.”

  Morgan groaned inwardly but didn’t comment.

  Her mother came over to the island where Morgan worked. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

  “I just don’t know if I want to spend my career working at the company. There are a lot of other opportunities I might want to explore.”

  “Nothing wrong with that. Any particular areas of practice you’re thinking about?”

  She’d been hoping to put this conversation off as long as possible. “Sports management.”

  “Really? I know you mentioned it growing up and when Malcolm started playing, but I didn’t realize you were serious. Seems very few women are able to break into that field, especially pro football. Am I correct in assuming that’s where your interest lies?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well—”

  “We’re back!”

  Morgan and her mother spun around, and her mother rushed over and engulfed Siobhan and Justin in a crushing hug.

  “Hi, Mom,” Siobhan said.

  “Oh my goodness. I thought you weren’t coming back until tonight.”

  Justin smiled and his teeth shone brightly in his clean-shaven mahogany face. “We got back last night and wanted to surprise you. Hey, Morgan.”

  “Hey. You guys look great.” She hugged them. At five eight, Siobhan was an inch taller than Morgan and wore her hair in a short, curly style. Two weeks in Barbados had darkened her honey brown skin to a warm sienna color.

  Her mother shooed Justin out. “Justin, Malcolm and Nolan are around here somewhere.”

  He chuckled. “I’m going.” He placed a tender kiss on Siobhan’s lips and left.

  Morgan didn’t miss the unspoken communication that passed between the two lovers. It immediately brought to mind the intense way Omar had been viewing her on Saturday at the fund-raiser and the conversation that followed. She’d had dreams about
him savoring her like a dessert that left her throbbing and wanting.

  “Morgan?” Siobhan playfully elbowed her. “You all right?”

  “Fine. How was the honeymoon?” Siobhan and her mother gave Morgan a strange look. “What?”

  “Mom just asked me that, and I said we had a great time. Where did your mind go?”

  “Oh. I had a thought about work, that’s all,” she lied.

  Siobhan frowned. “I hope you’re not going to start doing like I did.” Before she met Justin, Siobhan had been going overboard with her work hours in an attempt to prove she wasn’t a disappointment to her parents. The unrealistic perception stemmed from a childhood incident Siobhan had blamed herself for, and its effects had carried over into adulthood. She was slowly learning to let go.

  “I’m not. You’re supposed to be telling us about all the fun you had,” Morgan said, smoothly changing the subject, eager to have the spotlight off her.

  Brandon and Khalil arrived just as dinner was being served. After her father recited the blessing, lively conversation commenced. Much of the talk centered on Siobhan and Justin’s honeymoon. Later everyone sat around enjoying slices of homemade pound cake and laughing.

  “Saw your picture in the paper today, Morgan,” Brandon said casually.

  Morgan froze.

  “Oh?” her father asked.

  Focusing on her cake, she said, “Probably from the fund-raiser I went to last night.” She met Malcolm’s gaze and offered a silent plea. He smiled and went back to his food.

  “What kind of fund-raiser? Is it something we would be interested in making a donation to?”

  “Actually, Dad, I was going to mention it to you next week. It’s for a veterans’ mental health center that’s scheduled to open next March.”

  Brandon snorted. “I don’t think that’s the reason you were on the arm of Omar Drummond.”

  She shrugged. “He asked me to go. It was for a good cause.”

  “And the part about being his new agent?” Brandon asked, not looking up from his dessert.

  “What?” The room exploded with questions, and Morgan wanted to disappear beneath the floor. As always, she looked to her twin for help.

  Malcolm’s sharp whistle cut through the noise. “Okay, everybody. Relax.”

  “Is it true, Morgan?” her mother asked.

  “Yes.”

  Her father shook his head. “What about the case you’re supposed to be handling?”

  “This isn’t going to affect me handling the case, Dad.”

  “We need all your focus on this case, Morgan,” Brandon said. “I’m sure Drummond can find another agent if he needs one.”

  She whipped her head around and stared at him as if he had lost his mind. “No.” An argument ensued, and after about two minutes she was done. She got up, took her plate to the kitchen and came back. “Can you take me home, Mal?”

  Brandon stood and blocked her path. “We need to finish this.”

  Khalil, who had been silently observing, let out an exasperated sigh. “Sit down, Brandon. She said she could handle both.” To Morgan he said, “I’m glad you’re getting a chance to follow your dream, sis.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ll call you later,” Siobhan said.

  Morgan nodded. She kissed her parents and strode out of the house. She rode silently behind Malcolm and hopped off the motorcycle as soon as he pulled up in front of her unit. “I’ll see you later.”

  “You want to talk?”

  “No. Maybe later.”

  He gave her a strong hug. “Don’t worry about Brandon. You know how passionate he is when it comes to the company.”

  She nodded and headed for her door.

  “I’ll check on you later,” Malcolm called out.

  Morgan threw up a wave, went inside and placed her helmet on the coffee table. She was so mad she wanted to scream. Brandon had always been the most intense of the five siblings when it came to the company, and often acted like he was already in charge. If he thought something or someone might interfere with its success, he tended to go overboard. He’d done the same thing with Siobhan when she first started dating Justin. But Morgan had no plans to follow through with Brandon’s suggestion to have Omar find another agent. She was smart and driven. She multitasked well. She’d make it work to everyone’s satisfaction, especially her parents’.

  Her parents. Morgan dropped down on the sofa and released a deep sigh. She could see the questioning looks on their faces and knew she would have to call them later to explain. But not tonight. Tonight she just wanted to be left alone. Rising, she went to make some tea and settled at the kitchen table to work on Omar’s contract.

  An hour later, she heard the sound of a motorcycle and rolled her eyes. When Malcolm said he would check on her, she’d thought he meant he would call, not drive over. The doorbell rang as she stood. She hoped, it wouldn’t take long to convince him she was okay. If he’d had a girlfriend, he would have had less time to be worried about Morgan.

  Morgan snatched open the door, and her words died on her lips when she saw Omar standing there. With his hair held back by a band and wearing all black, he looked every bit of tall, dark and dangerously sexy. And although she shouldn’t have been, she was happy to see him.

  “Hey. Can I come in?”

  She stepped back so he could enter and closed the door. “How did you get in? And what are you doing here?”

  “Somebody was leaving the complex, so I drove in before the gate closed. And I came to see if you were okay.”

  “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” She gestured him to a seat. He sat on the chair and she purposely chose the sofa.

  “The photos in today’s paper.” He paused. “And I talked to Malcolm.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth. “Before you start in on your brother, he didn’t call me. I called him because I was concerned, and he told me about what happened at your parent’s house.” Omar sat next to her and reached for her hand. “Morgan, I know your family is depending on you with the lawsuit, and I don’t want your helping me out to cause problems with your job or your family.”

  “It’s not, Omar. Trust me.” Morgan eased her hand from his, leaned forward and braced her elbows on her knees. “I told my family a long time ago what I wanted to do. Except for Malcolm and my sister, Siobhan, everybody else figured it was something I’d said because I love football so much, especially after I went to law school and started working at the company. I’m not worried about my parents. They’ll come around.” She angled her head in his direction. “I appreciate the concern, but there’s no need. Unless...you don’t think I can do it.” It dawned on her that, after talking to her brother, Omar might have some misgivings, just like her family. She met his eyes.

  “It never crossed my mind that you wouldn’t be able to accomplish both tasks. Not for one minute.”

  “Thank you.” Their eyes held, and she saw the moment his gaze went from care and concern to something else. She wanted to look away but couldn’t. She could feel the desire rising between them.

  Finally he murmured, “It’s not working, baby.”

  Morgan never even tried to pretend she didn’t understand what he meant. He was right. And it hadn’t been working since that first kiss in Malcolm’s kitchen.

  “Morgan, I...” Omar bent his head and let his kiss finish what he wanted to communicate.

  She should have protested, should have pushed him away, but when his silky tongue slid between her lips to tangle with hers, protesting was the furthest thing from her mind. The kiss they’d shared before had lasted only a second or two, but this unhurried exploration of lips and tongues set her body aflame. His tongue made sweeping, swirling motions inside her mouth, then captured hers and sucked gently. Morgan moaned, shifted and straddled his thighs. She fi
sted her hands in his locs and took over the kiss, eliciting a low groan from him. Omar’s big hands roamed down her back and caressed her buttocks. The bulge of his erection pressed firmly against her center. She broke off the kiss and realized how dangerously close she was to having sex with her client.

  Omar rested his forehead against hers, his ragged breathing matching her own. “Please don’t say this was a mistake.”

  Nothing about the kiss felt like a mistake. It felt like the most right thing she had done in a long time. “I won’t.”

  He lifted his head and searched her face. A faint smile played around the corners of his mouth. “Nothing that happens between us will be a mistake.”

  “Omar—”

  He silenced her with another kiss. “Nothing, baby.”

  “I’m not saying that. But I can’t just go all out and start dating you.”

  “Why not?”

  She leaned back and gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re kidding, right? You just told people last night that I was your agent. What do you think they’re going to say when they find out we’re seeing each other? Let me help you with the answer. They’re going to say I’m sleeping my way into the business.” Morgan left his lap and reclaimed her spot on the sofa.

  “Then what do you suggest we do? Because me not kissing you again isn’t an option.”

  She had never experienced such pleasure from a kiss, so in reality, it wasn’t an option for her, either. “We keep it a secret for as long as possible, preferably until after your contract negotiation is done.”

  “Roughly six weeks.”

  She nodded.

  Omar shrugged. “Sounds good in theory.”

  “But...”

  “But, you know what happens whenever you walk anywhere within my line of sight. You said it yourself...my favorite dessert.”

  Morgan picked up one of the pillows next to her and swatted him with it. “You’re not helping, Drummond.”

  “Maybe not, but I’m being honest.”

  “Yeah, well, all this honesty is going to put you back where you were two days ago...with no kisses.”