Playing For Keeps

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  “There’s nothing wrong with him.”

  “There is always something wrong with them. Every man I’ve ever met hanging out in a coffee shop has had some issues.”

  “Well, this man doesn’t. He really seemed to have his ‘ish’ together.” Cilla passed Malcolm’s business card to her friend. “He owns a nightclub downtown.”

  Bianca’s eyes widened with excitement. “I know this place! This is the joint I was telling you about. This club is off the chain!”

  “So, do you want to go with me? He invited me to stop by sometime. I’m thinking I might go tonight.”

  “You better take me with you but you can’t go anytime soon. And definitely not tonight!”

  Cilla rolled her eyes. “Why not?”

  “Desperate much? Don’t you know you need to keep a man guessing?”

  “Like you did with Wes?” A wide smile pulled at Cilla’s thin lips as she lifted her hand and waved.

  “He’s behind us, isn’t he?”

  Cilla nodded. “And about to come into the office,” she mumbled between gritted teeth.

  Bianca winced as she took a deep breath. She twisted around in her seat just as the door opened and her ex-boyfriend, Wesley Brooks, stuck his head inside.

  Wesley waved his hand nervously. Both women smiled, amusement dancing across their faces as their associate Donna chattered excitedly.

  “Hey, y’all! I just wanted to introduce you to my fiancé!” the petite blond said excitedly. “This is Wesley. Wesley Brooks. We just got engaged!”

  Bianca forced a wide grin to her face. “We’re all old friends!” she said smugly. “How are you, Wes?”

  Cilla nodded. “Wesley, hey! It’s good to see you again.”

  The man smiled sheepishly. “Cilla, Bianca, how are you?” He and Bianca exchanged a look, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

  Cilla smiled. “We’re good,” she said quickly. “Congratulations! Engaged! That’s so exciting.”

  Donna grinned. “It’s going to be a short engagement. The wedding is in six weeks.”

  Bianca eyed the man with a raised brow. “Well, Wes does short well,” she said as she held up her hand, her thumb and forefinger just millimeters apart. “How’s Gwen?” she suddenly asked. “You two still making movies together?”

  Cilla stifled a laugh as the man blushed profusely. The insult blew right over Donna’s head. The rest of the conversation was swift and tense, polite small talk as both women wished the newly engaged couple well.

  When the two lovebirds had moved off down the hallway, Bianca blew a deep sigh. “As I was saying, if you race on down there to see some guy you just met, you’re going to seem desperate. It’s not a pretty look.”

  “You mean like you just looked when you told Wes to call you sometime so you two could catch up?”

  Bianca shrugged, a wry smile pulling at her mouth. “I was just making conversation.”

  “That wasn’t all you were trying to make and he and Donna both knew it.”

  “You can’t blame a girl for trying to start a mess when she can. Did you see him start to sweat?”

  “Okay,” Cilla said, laughing heartily. The jovial moment passed as she moved back to her seat.

  “So what do you plan to do about this Malcolm guy?” Bianca questioned as she twisted his business card between her fingers.

  “That reminds me,” Cilla quipped as she opened her laptop and typed in her password. “I need to make sure I paid all of my bills this month. Lately I’ve had so much on my mind that I think I could forget my head if it weren’t screwed onto my neck.”

  Confusion washed over Bianca’s expression.

  Cilla chuckled. “He bought my coffee this morning,” she said as though it all should have made sense to her friend. When it didn’t she explained about her credit card situation and Malcolm’s timely gesture.

  Bianca shook her head as she moved back onto her feet. “Just tell me what you decide to do about tonight so I know if I need to go home and change.” She moved to the door, turning as Cilla called after her.

  “Why do you need to change?”

  “Because everyone who’s anyone is showing up at The Playground. You don’t know who I might meet!”

  Cilla shook her head. “Did you forget about Ethan? You do have a boyfriend, remember?

  Bianca laughed. “Girl, I will never forget about Ethan! Don’t you know I love that man!”

  Chapter Two

  The Playground Jazz and Blues Club sat off Glenwood Avenue in downtown Raleigh, the old brick building neighbored by Lem Young’s Chinese Cleaners and Harper’s Florist. A line of college students, young adults, and old souls was already forming, a growing crowd trying their best to get inside.

  Malcolm walked a dimly lit corridor, past a mirrored wall into the nightclub’s interior. He had barely made it down the length of the hallway when a random female suddenly pressed her body to his and trapped his mouth beneath her own. The kiss tasted of stale tobacco and bourbon. As he pushed her from him, both his hands holding tight to her shoulders, she gave him a toothy grin and laughed. The wispy giggle filled her face and she looked no older than his daughters. He felt himself tense, gesturing for one of the members of their security team.

  “Hahaha, you ain’t my boyfriend,” the girl said with a waiflike cackle.

  “No, I’m not,” Malcolm said as he guided her to an empty chair and pushed her into it. “Did you come with your boyfriend?” he questioned as he stole a quick glance around the room.

  A look of confusion shimmered in her dark eyes as she stared at him.

  “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  Before she could answer another young woman rushed between them. “I’m sorry, Mr. Cobb. This is my friend Tina and she’s had way too much to drink!”

  He looked toward the young woman who’d called him by his name, not recognizing her face. She sensed his perplexity and smiled brightly. “I’m Nikki Procter. My mom is Bernadette Procter. She goes to your church and is on the usher board with Miss Claudette.”

  Malcolm nodded as he made the connection. “Nikki, how old are you? And how old is your friend Tina?”

  The girl laughed. “We’re both twenty-one. Today’s her birthday and we all came out to celebrate.” She pointed to a crowded table of young women who sat behind them. “The man at the door and the man at the bar both checked our IDs twice. We’re legal.”

  “Well, I think Tina’s had too much celebration. It’s time to say good night.” He pointed to the security guard. “Ryan here will help you get her to the car,” he said, his statement a direct order.

  The girl named Nikki nodded. “I’m the designated driver tonight so I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”

  Malcolm’s head waved up and down against his broad shoulders. He blew a low sigh. He understood the rite of passage. Had himself overindulged when he’d been able to drink legally. But overindulging had become a bad habit that had almost destroyed his life. It made him ultrasensitive to the behavior of the younger crowd that seemed to enjoy the club’s happenings to excess.

  He blew another deep sigh as he eased through the crowd to the bar. Lawrence “Romeo” Marshall, his best friend and the co-owner, stood behind the wooden structure pouring vodka into a glass.

  The two men had been friends since pledging Alpha Phi Alpha. They’d been line brothers, their bond irrefutable. After college both had gone in different directions. Returning home to North Carolina had reestablished their connection. They’d been working the bar together almost since Romeo had gotten the bright idea and Malcolm had agreed to be his cohort in crime. Going against the grain of everything else they both knew, neither could fathom any reason why running a juke joint together wouldn’t work for them. And since it had, the association afforded them both something they’d been missing.

  Malcolm lifted an easy hand in greeting. “Hey there, Romeo.”

  “Hey, Malcolm,” his friend answered. “What’s got you here? I thou
ght you were going to take the night off?”

  He shrugged, his broad shoulders pushing toward the ceiling as he settled himself against a barstool. “A woman.”

  Romeo laughed heartily, noting the wistful expression that crossed his friend’s face. “As good a reason as any!”

  Malcolm laughed with him. “Actually, the girls are with their mother. I couldn’t sleep so I figured I might as well get some work done. I need to reorganize that storage room. We keep having to increase the inventory and we’re running out of space.” He tossed another quick look around the room. “Besides, you look like you could use an extra hand,” he concluded.

  The room was filled to capacity. Both men were amazed at the number of bodies who’d shown up on a Monday night. All the media attention was serving them well. They’d had record sales for weeks and it didn’t look like it was going to slow down anytime soon.

  Romeo nodded. “It’s been crazy like this all night!”

  “I guess when you consider the alternative we really can’t complain!” Malcolm said, a low chuckle blowing past his lips.

  Romeo filled three more drink orders then leaned across the bar, sipping on a cup of hot coffee. He pushed another in his friend’s direction. “So tell me about this woman,” he said as he took a slow sip.

  Malcolm laughed again. “There’s nothing to tell. Yet. Give me a few days and I’ll let you know.”

  Lifting his cup in salute, Romeo nodded and smiled, then both men shifted into work mode.

  The crowd at The Playground was just shy of being rowdy. The music was loud and the throng of partygoers was animated. The staff was working diligently to keep the masses satisfied. Onstage, the new piano player, Walter “Lightning” Lewis was playing a slow seductive number that had couples clinging hungrily to one another. He was a tall, thin young man with skin like melted caramel. Reddish brown hair curled smoothly atop his head complementing his dark eyes and chiseled jawline. The women loved him and they owed the insurgence of youth in the room to his presence.

  The band behind him was a motley crew of musicians who’d come for the music; friends and acquaintances who appreciated every opportunity they could find to jam together. Some were transient, faces they might not see again for months, if at all. And then the regulars, who showed up at the first tinkling of the piano keys. Payment was the money Romeo and Malcolm slipped into their pockets at the end of each set and the one or two shots of liquid fuel permitted at the end of the evening. Life was simple and easy and the appreciation danced around the room enough to make it all worth doing again and again.

  Odetta Brown, the head waitress, slapped a silver tray against the bar top. She was a gregarious, big-boned, voluptuous woman with a chocolate-kissed complexion. Short, jet-black hair framed a full face resplendent with large, nut-brown eyes, and a full pout. Brusque in her manners, she was loudly expressive and the customers loved her, something about her unencumbered style and curt mannerisms was refreshing. Malcolm grinned as she bumped her shoulder against his.

  “They are working my nerves tonight!” Odetta exclaimed. Her eyebrows were raised sky high and her eyes were open wide, exasperation painting her expression.

  Malcolm laughed. “You say that every night!”

  Odetta snapped her requisite piece of chewing gum, blowing a large bubble and popping it a second time. “Well, they’re really doing it tonight! I swear, some of these kids act like they ain’t had no home training!”

  Malcolm tossed Romeo a quick look. “I’m starting to think we should raise the minimum age limit to twenty-five. These young kids don’t know how to have a good time without getting unruly.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Odetta chimed.

  Romeo nodded. “Let’s talk about it at the next staff meeting.”

  With a roll of her eyes and one last snap of her gum, Odetta blew a loud sigh. Both men shook their heads.

  Across the way the sweetest voice brought the room to a sudden standstill. Onstage, their resident songbird, Sharon Wallace, had drawn everyone’s attention in her direction, eyes widened and mouths agape. She was a tiny young woman standing just over five feet tall. Seeming almost fragile, there was an air of innocence about her. A mass of copper-colored curls set off her peach-toned skin and dark freckles danced lightly across her pug nose. She wore a casual, off-the-shoulder top and form-fitting pants that complemented her petite figure. Standing against the backdrop of that black piano, she looked like a superstar on the rise.

  Malcolm, Romeo, and Odetta all grinned, tossing each other a quick look. Sharon had initially been hired as a waitress but it hadn’t taken long to discover her talent lay in the booming voice that billowed out of her small body. Malcolm lay claim to discovering her after finding her singing in a small storefront Baptist church one crisp Sunday afternoon. To hear him tell it she’d been heaven sent. He had sat in the rear pew of that old church every Sunday for over a month. It had taken two weeks before he’d discovered her name. By the third week, he knew that the closest thing to home for her had been the West Creedmoor Women’s Shelter and that she had no family and no job to speak of. At the end of the month, he’d taken her under his wing and into his heart and had been hell-bent on delivering her from her miseries. The rest was history in the making.

  Even the new hires, the waitresses, Michelle Clifton and Leslie Trammel, and the bartender, Frank Pierce, had come to a halt, all lost in the moment. The two women looked toward their employers for approval and when Malcolm and Romeo both smiled and nodded, each relaxed and enjoyed the entertainment. Everyone in the room was mesmerized as Sharon sang like her life depended on it. It was just another night at The Playground, leaving those lucky to be there with much to remember.

  The house was quiet when Malcolm eased his way inside. His mother had left one light on in the family room and when he tiptoed in that direction to turn it off he found her curled beneath a blanket in the window seat, an opened book in her hand.

  “Hey there, beautiful, you’re still up,” Malcolm said, his voice a loud whisper.

  Miss Claudette smiled as she pulled a pair of wire-rimmed reading glasses from her face. “The house is too quiet when the girls are gone. I couldn’t fall asleep so I thought I’d finish my book,” she said, gesturing with the novel in her hand.

  Malcolm caught a quick glimpse of the cover, the image of a little girl shimmering beneath a watery surface. The title was Rested Waters and he noted the worn pages and the binding creased from wear. “Is it good?” he questioned. He moved to his favorite seat and sat down, the leather recliner seeming to wrap him in a warm embrace.

  Miss Claudette nodded, her gray hair waving against her narrow shoulders. “It’s very good. It’s our book club selection this month,” she said as she rested the paperback against her lap. “I can’t wait for the discussion next week. This is my third time reading it.”

  Malcolm smiled, his head bobbing slightly. “Maybe I’ll read it when you’re done,” he said softly.

  “So, how did it go tonight?” his mother questioned.

  Malcolm flipped his hand upward. “Crazy busy. I hadn’t planned on working so hard but the crowd was outrageous.”

  “That’s good,” his mother responded. “That means business is booming.”

  Malcolm nodded, drifting off into thought. A blanket of silence eased between them and minutes passed before he spoke again.

  “I met someone today. My God, was she beautiful!” he exclaimed, the comment slipping out of his mouth before he could catch it. His eyes widened as he realized the words he’d just spoken. He shot his mother a quick look.

  Miss Claudette lifted her gaze to meet her son’s. She didn’t bother to respond sensing there was more that he wanted to share as he questioned whether he should say anything at all. When he finally did speak she listened intently.

  “Her name’s Cilla. She was grabbing coffee this morning at Starbucks and we talked for a few minutes. She was funny . . . and smart,” he said with a
brief pause. “I think I really liked her.”

  Miss Claudette nodded. “Maybe you’ll get a chance to see her again,” his mother said. Her tone was calm, and hopeful. A hint of concern echoed in her inflection. “If anything can come of it you know you need to take it slow, and be respectful. I raised you to be a gentleman and the girls need to see that from you. You need to be the example they look to when those little boys start sniffing around them,” she said as if it were necessary to remind him.

  Malcolm nodded then smiled. “I’m not sure why I told you that. I’ll probably never see that woman again.”

  His mother shrugged. “It sounds like you want to see her again and that means something. That’s why you told me.”

  He contemplated her comment for only a brief second before ending the conversation. “I think I’ll go on up and get a shower,” he said, rising from his seat. “Good night.”

  Miss Claudette smiled back. She lifted her face upward as he leaned to give her cheek a kiss. “Sweet dreams, Son-shine. Mama loves you!”

  “I love you, too, Mama.”

  Malcolm eased his way up the stairwell. Behind the closed door of his bedroom he fell back against the mattress, pulling his arm up over his head. He’d been thinking about Cilla Jameson since that morning. He had half-hoped that she might have shown up at the club but there’d been no sign of her. When he and Romeo had finally locked the doors, he’d actually been disappointed and the emotion surprised him. There had been no lack of beautiful women at the nightclub vying for his attention but he hadn’t been interested because thoughts of Cilla had consumed him. He blew a deep sigh as he sat upright, unable to fathom what had gotten into him and wondering what it was going to take to shake the emotion from his spirit.

  Since his divorce Malcolm had made dating something of a sport. He enjoyed it. He did it casually and it was only an investment of his time and energy when he wanted it to be. Over the years he’d met some incredible women and some who only thought they were. But what each of them had in common was a need or desire to make things between them permanent and Malcolm wholeheartedly had no interest in doing forever with any woman.