What the fuck! Here we go! Friday it was me, now it’s him. I inhaled air into my lungs and blew it out like it was burning my chest. “I think we are adult enough to handle ourselves.”
“It is the integrity of the matter. Plus, I think you might fall in love with me.”
“Are you kidding me?” I felt the frowns form in my forehead and my eyes blinked several times. I got dizzy. “Yeah, right! What about you falling in love with me?”
“I think you might get in too deep.”
I almost felt like I was begging him. “I will not fall in love with you. Trust me. I’m not trying to marry you.”
“Well, if you are sure, then let’s do something together this weekend.”
“Like what? I am not jumping in bed with you.”
Suddenly, those fears had returned. He just said he didn’t think we should do anything. Then he says, “let’s get together this weekend.” Like Friday, I panicked again with that same stupid stuff about “I’m not giving him none” when that’s all I thought about. Hell, this whole thing was about my getting some dick. The truth was staring me in the face. I was a scared-ass pussy. I was blowing this relationship with all this scatterbrained confusion. What’s wrong with me?
“I didn’t ask you to,” Travis said, with a funny look on his face. I was confusing him too. This man knew I wanted to sex him. Hell, I backed my ass into him and grinded on his dick. Now I was saying I wasn’t jumping in bed, when he was saying, “don’t fall in love with me.” Damn, I have to get a grip on my feelings.
“Call me on Friday and we’ll set up something.” He jammed his hands into his pockets and kicked a few rocks on the ground. He was having a hard time looking at me.
“Okay, Travis.” I relaxed my arms. I smacked my lips because I felt I was looking stupid. He looked at me with raised eyebrows. I felt like he was thinking I was a confused mess and he was correct.
I walked back into the building, got on the elevator, and pushed the button to the second floor. I had this huge smile on my face. We were going to spend some time together outside the office on a real date. All our time together had been on company time. Now we were seeing each other as a potential love interest. Though I was scared, I was happy. I briskly walked down the hall and went into the office.
All through the week I analyzed the budget. Tuesday, during the day, I wrote a grant for books, finalized the bids for the new hardware for the network system, and met with staff to assure that their files had been updated. Tuesday night, Dexter and I watched a few criminal television shows. We had a great time. He claimed that he had never watched the shows before, but he enjoyed them. As we sat on the couch, I straddled him.
“Malika, get off me.” He playfully lifted his leg up to try to insinuate I was putting too much weight on him. I bent down and kissed him.
“Why don’t you kiss me like you used to?”
“I kiss you while you are sleeping.”
“That doesn’t help or prove anything, especially if I don’t even know I’m being kissed.”
“But I am kissing you.” He kissed me. “Now move,” he said with a laugh.
I really enjoyed my time with him.
Wednesday and Thursday came quickly. We finished up projects in the office. I hadn’t heard from Travis. I assumed he was making plans for us. He had asked me to call him Friday so we could set something up. I had planned to look at what was playing at a movie theater, thirty miles away, so I could have an alternate plan.
After reviewing the schedule of activities for Friday, I met with my staff to make sure they knew what their roles would be. After confirmation, everyone busied themselves with other activities.
It was around 4:00 P.M. The staff placed their latest records in the file cabinets. We did that on a daily basis as we had to document all activities and face-to-face visits per our contracts. Near quitting time, Ingrid notified me that I had a call. It was Travis. When I picked up the phone, Travis blurted out, “I’ve been thinking and this is wrong. We shouldn’t do this.”
“Why are you playing with my feelings, Travis?” I blew out the air I was holding in my mouth. Frustrated, I held the phone tightly in the palm of my hand.
“I’m not. It’s wrong. You are my boss. You are off-limits to me. I have never done this before and it is not wise to start now.”
I hung up the phone on him. I wanted to cry. I was so close, but not close enough.
As each of the staff notified me that they were leaving for the day, Felicia walked in to inform me that Travis was in the office and wanted to meet with me. “You’re in good hands, so I am leaving,” she said.
“Okay, I will see you tomorrow. Has everyone left the office?”
Felicia walked out, checked everyone’s office, came back, and said the entire staff was gone for the day. She left and I went to the conference room to meet with Travis. When I walked in, he had the sweetest smile on his face. He looked so concerned. He got up and walked over to me. He kissed me on my right cheek and then on my left. He pulled me closer to him and hugged me tighter.
“You’re shaking,” he said.
“Sorry.”
“I told you that if we take this route, there is no turning back.” He stood behind me and whispered in my ear, “Oh, Malika, I want you so badly.”
Travis rubbed my stomach and kissed my neck. He even took my hand and guided it to his manhood. I felt his swollen manhood and I was shaking like a leaf on a tree. I didn’t know why I was so scared, but I was. I had never stepped out on Dexter. Travis turned me around and hugged me, and just as he was about to kiss my lips, his phone rang. It was one of his business associates. As he talked, he blew kisses at me. I looked down and noticed he was still hard and bulging against the fly of his pants. But I still couldn’t tell if he was packing. Once he hung up the phone, things changed. He took me by the hand. “I can’t do this.”
“Why?” I asked as I pulled away.
“This is too much work, trying to sneak around with you.”
I wanted to beg him, but I stopped. I was not going to let him see me cry. “All right, Travis, if that is what you want.”
“It is.”
I grabbed my purse and keys and turned the lights out. We walked out of the building. No words were exchanged between us. The only sound I heard was the thumping of my broken heart. I quickly jumped into my car and drove off. As I drove, my emotions came to a head and I started crying, so much so that I had to pull to the side of the road. I angrily banged on the steering wheel. “Please, God, help me. Please stop me from wanting him. Please help me.”
I was so hurt. I kept thinking I was fighting two losing relationships. Though Dexter had started spending a little more time with me, I still felt emotionally empty. Finally, I had Travis’s arms wrapped around my body. He kissed each side of my face and all over my neck. He whispered his need for me and as soon as the call came he immediately retreated. How could he turn his feelings on and off like a water faucet. I couldn’t do that. I tried and here I was in so much emotional trauma I felt lost. I kept feeling his arms snaked around my body. It felt so good. He was so strong and then nothing. I wasn’t sure I could take any more of this. I had to do something to stop my confusion and pain. I was embarrassed.
On Friday, instead of meeting with staff, I opted to participate in the events with the staff and families. I didn’t attend all the activities we had for the families, but I did attend those that were most important to our contracts, like the health events, and the educational ones. Surprisingly, Samantha showed up. I always gave her a monthly report with our activities planned out and made sure she had an open invitation to come to everything. I really enjoyed myself and it took my mind off Travis.
Chapter 17
Getting Away
The week went by so fast. I spent the weekend enjoying my family. On the following Monday, I spoke to Samantha about the workshop we had the previous Friday. She really enjoyed herself and was so impressed with the relationship the st
aff had with our clients. She spent her time kissing and hugging the babies and just having a great time. During our meeting, she told me she had met with Travis about the project they had discussed and that the next meeting would include me. She stated that Travis didn’t seem like himself.
“What do you mean he didn’t seem like himself?”
“Usually when I see Travis, he’s happy and much friendlier. Honestly, I got the feeling that something happened between you two.”
“How did you get that impression? I mean, what happened to make you think something went down with us?”
“I mentioned your name and he didn’t even smile. To me, that is unusual.”
“Well, maybe something was on his mind.”
“Yeah, maybe,” she said.
As Samantha and I talked about a conference that my social workers and I would be attending in three days in Jefferson City, Missouri, she bent her head down and rubbed her temples. She looked somewhat distressed.
“What’s wrong, Samantha?”
“Just a headache.”
“Aren’t you having them too frequently?”
“Since two weeks ago, I have had my share. But I think my pressure might be up. Actually, I drank a little apple cider vinegar this morning to help control my blood pressure until I can get to the doctor.”
“Well, everyone said that works. But still hurry and schedule an appointment.”
“I have a doctor’s appointment late Friday afternoon.”
“You know we are leaving Wednesday morning and will return Friday afternoon.”
“Okay,” she said. “If you need me, just call.”
“I will, but please get to the doctor.”
Tuesday, my staff and I met and talked a lot about our upcoming trip. We were attending workshops on parenting issues, conflict management, and domestic violence. We were excited because we had not attended a conference in more than five months, so we were due for some training. I planned to drive my husband’s SUV because it seated nine folks comfortably, plus we could use the other seats for luggage. Only five of us would be attending the conference while the other staff would stay and monitor the program.
The conference was very informative. On Friday, to avoid the rush-hour traffic, my staff and I decided to leave the conference around 2:00 P.M. We had one training left that didn’t impact our program. We really bonded during this trip and the staff even went to a local party with other conference attendees. Even though we had a close staff, Sarah had tried her utmost to tear us apart by discrediting me. She had even told my staff I was fucking Travis, which I guessed might have looked like it by the way we acted around each other.
“Malika, did you see that lady in the conference with that blond and orange wig on?” Felicia asked.
“No, and you didn’t either. I didn’t see any orange.”
“Who didn’t? Yes, I did! She looked a horrible mess. Did anyone else see her? I know I’m not the only one who saw that blond and orange wig.” Felicia said while holding her stomach and laughing.
Frances laughed. “Who in the world could miss that ghetto-fabulous hairdo?”
Everybody continued to laugh. All through the conference, we had a great time. We spent the whole conference bonding and really getting to know each other. In fact, we were pretty close as a staff before the conference and even closer after it.
I drove Interstate 70 East back to St. Louis in my husband’s Eddie Bauer Ford SUV, which had a V-8 engine. I put the pedal to the metal and even though I was driving safely, I was driving a little over the speed limit. As we were laughing and talking, my cell phone rang.
Felicia answered it and passed it to me. “It’s Johnny Walton.”
“Hello, this is Malika.”
“Hi, Malika, this is Johnny. Are you in a safe area for a conversation?”
“Yes, I am.” I didn’t know what he meant by safe, but I assumed he meant whether I was driving or standing in a stationary position. I wanted to hear what he had to say, so I lied.
Chapter 18
This Shit Is Unbelievable
Johnny Walton was the president of the board of directors for the National Infant & Toddlers Association, which was the parent company of the Pal Project. He was a part of the good ole’ boy network that kept the organization supplied with money from their rich friends. He was a nice man with the cutest and brightest blue eyes I had ever seen.
“I’m stable. What’s wrong?”
“It’s Samantha.”
“What about her?” My voice raised an octave. I looked over to my right and noticed that Felicia looked concerned. She saw the expression on my face. From her own facial gestures, I could tell she felt something wasn’t right. “What?!” She asked. I whispered to Felicia to be quiet and mouthed the word Samantha.
“She was taken to the hospital this morning and I am sorry to say, she is in a coma.” Johnny stated.
“Oh, my God, not Samantha!” I screamed. As I did, my foot left the accelerator and the SUV began to slow down. I was also losing control of the steering wheel. Frances began crying loudly in the back seat.
“Pull to the side of the road,” shouted Pat, one of the intake social workers.
“What is that noise?” Johnny Walton asked.
I pulled to the side of the road and stared at Felicia, who I wanted to shout at and say, “Shut up, bitch!”
She was screaming and crying, “Oh, hell naw, motherfucker.”
“Johnny,” I said, “please tell me she is going to be all right. Please!” I was sobbing; Samantha was my friend as well as my boss.
“I can’t tell you that. Only God knows. Her husband has called her brothers and sisters from out of town. They are flying in tonight. They are going to pray about taking the ventilators and other life support machines off tomorrow.”
Whimpering at the side of the road, I laid my head on the steering wheel and cried.
“Are you going to be okay?”
I didn’t respond. Johnny held the phone until I was ready to speak again.
“Do you know what happened?” I asked.
“Apparently, she had been complaining about a migraine headache that she had had for a while. So they are trying to relieve pressure off her brain. Please don’t share this information with anyone other than your staff and ask them to do the same. We don’t want our friends and competitors to know what is going on as of yet.”
“I won’t make an announcement until I receive your call.”
“Call me when you arrive back in town.”
My conversation, cries and facial gestures gave away what was wrong. Staff already knew Samantha was complaining about her blood pressure and those headaches. As I ended my call, Felicia cried out loud, “Is she dead?” I shook my head and said, “Brain-dead.” Felicia jumped out of the SUV. Frances got out and tried to help her distraught coworker, though she was in worse shape than Felicia. I was so flustered I couldn’t think straight, and we were more than seventy-five miles away from our office. So we remained on the side of the road, five of us, three in the car crying and two walking up and down on the side of the highway, all brokenhearted.
Finally, after thirty minutes of crying, the two workers got back into the SUV and I started the car. For the next hour and a half, all I heard were sniffles and dry heaves. Finally, after what seemed like hours, we pulled onto the office parking lot. We unpacked the SUV and put everyone’s luggage into their waiting cars. Felicia and I walked into the building to contact the other workers. Once on the second floor, we hugged each other. Felicia and I had a special bond with Samantha. Samantha thought, as I did, that Felicia was a loyal, hard worker.
As we opened the door, Ingrid walked up and reached out and hugged us. Apparently, one of the other workers left at the office had heard from one of Samantha’s family members about what was going on and she told the rest of the staff. We all locked the office up and left. We talked about Samantha and what had happened as we walked to the parking lot, got into our cars
, and drove off.
I hadn’t driven five miles when grief overtook me. I pulled into a parking lot, laid my head on the steering wheel, and cried for twenty minutes. Scared, I pulled out my cell. After I dialed that number, I waited until I heard that voice. “Travis.” I paused, trying to stop crying.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Samantha.”
“Is she okay?”
“No.” I was nearly hysterical. “She is in a coma!”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. She is near death.”
“Baby, don’t say that. I need to get to you. Where are you?”
“Almost home.”
“I was going to come to you. But go home and I will call you tomorrow.”
I called Dexter and told him what was going on. He knew Samantha through some networking opportunities with his company. I needed him to hold me. I started the car and drove to my house. I jumped out of the car and ran to Dexter. Since I was trying to communicate more with him, I had told him before we left that I was worried about Samantha and that she was having very bad headaches. When he saw my face, he reached out and I collapsed in his arms. “Samantha is brain-dead!” I felt so safe in my husband’s arms. He held me and kissed my face. “I’m so sorry about Samantha.” I melted into his chest and allowed him to cradle me. I was home. I felt his love and strength.
I cried the entire weekend. I was brokenhearted. That Friday night, they took Samantha off the life support machines. I called her husband to offer my condolences. He made me feel a little better because he told me how she felt about me. He said she was impressed with me and often spoke highly of my professionalism, intelligence, and her trust for me. I did not know that. He said that although it was difficult losing a wife, he was happy that he had her for the three years they were married. I silently cried as he spoke of his love for her. He told me that she died of a blood clot to the brain.
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