Tropical Fantasy

by Monica McKayhan

  Sasha tried a different approach. “He worked for ProTek for four years before he was terminated. He received favorable performance ratings in the past. What changed in his work performance?”

  “Can I just be frank with you, Miss Winters?”

  “Call me Sasha. And yes, you may be frank.”

  “Sasha, we have several physician partners. They recommend our products to their patients, and we compensate them extremely well for doing so. Our sales reps have to be very rigorous in their marketing techniques. Their job is to keep our numbers up—ensure that our physicians are consistently recommending our products.”

  “And Mr. Falkins failed to do that?”

  “He had become...well...unenergetic.”

  “I see.” Sasha punched a few more keys on her iPad, capturing every detail. “Mr. Falkins claims that he was wrongfully terminated because he refused to engage in unscrupulous activity. Is there any truth to that claim?”

  “We believe in our products, Sasha. But sometimes the process of obtaining FDA approval is cumbersome, and in some cases downright impossible. And so we have to improvise, if you know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I think I do know what you mean, Scott. But let me be very frank with you, as well. I am great at what I do, but I have a reputation of being an ethical attorney with high standards. If you know what I mean...” She smiled.

  “Clearly,” said Scott. “Do you think this guy has a chance?”

  “I need everything you can dig up on his work performance. I want to know if and when he’s done anything disreputable. I’d also like to review his personnel records that document any broken employment agreements.”

  “I’ll get someone on it right away.” Scott punched the keys on his smartphone as if he was giving instructions to someone.

  “I’ll formulate a response to his attorney.” Sasha shut her iPad case and gave the menu a quick glance.

  “I have to admit, before this meeting I was feeling a little nervous about your capabilities. But now I feel very safe in your hands, Sasha.”

  “I’m glad, Scott. You have nothing to worry about.”

  Sasha ordered a salad—something light. Suddenly she was cognizant of her weight and decided that she could stand to lose a few pounds. In fact, she’d wiped the dust from her treadmill just this morning and vowed to do a mile or two before bed. Her hips could stand to be toned a bit. Exercise was something that had taken a back burner in her life, but now she’d decided that it needed to be a priority.

  Her lunch meeting with Scott Sanders had been successful. She was able to relieve his anxieties about the case and make the attorney transition smooth. She knew that defending ProTek wouldn’t be a walk in the park, but she wasn’t an ordinary attorney. She knew how to negotiate and usually was very successful in getting what she wanted—inside the courtroom and out. And this case would be no different. She’d devote all of her attention to this one.

  * * *

  It had been years since Sasha left work on time. She was usually the one who turned off the lights. But tonight, a very handsome man was preparing a home-cooked meal for her—something she hadn’t had in a long time. She’d become too accustomed to Chinese takeout and leftovers from expensive restaurants. A home-cooked meal would be a welcome treat.

  She typed Vince’s address into her GPS and headed for Stone Mountain. His home was warm and inviting and filled with character—from the polished hardwood to the wooden staircase and the custom kitchen cabinets. It felt like home, unlike her place, which was cold and uninviting. She’d expected a bachelor’s pad, a macho atmosphere, but what she found was anything but. His place was very manly, yet charming.

  “Come in,” Vince urged with a kiss to her cheek. “You look good.”

  “Thank you.” She took a look around. Candles burned on the dining room table, and two place settings were neatly set. “Something smells really good. What’s on the menu?”

  “Meat loaf, mashed potatoes, corn bread...”

  “Wow, you cooked all that?” she asked.

  “You said you wanted a home-cooked meal. I cooked everything except for the greens.”

  “You got greens?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you manage to get greens that you didn’t cook?”

  “There’s a little soul food place on MLK called Busy Bee Café...got the best collard greens in Atlanta. I stopped there on my way home from the office.”

  “I see.”

  “I covered all bases.” Vince wrapped his arms around Sasha’s waist and pulled her close. “I even took care of dessert.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Banana pudding for you, and a little bit of Sasha for me.” He grinned and then kissed her lips.

  His kiss was gentle yet passionate, and the intensity of it had her head spinning. She’d fantasized about him so many times. She kept replaying their night of passion in her head, trying to remember what it was like, but she knew that memories were nothing like the real thing.

  “Let’s eat before we get carried away,” Vince said and then grabbed Sasha by the hand. He led her to the dining room table and pulled her chair out. “Just have a seat, madam, and I’ll get you served.”

  Vince disappeared into the kitchen and returned with dishes filled with piping-hot food. He prepared her plate generously and then placed heaping portions onto his own plate before taking a seat across from her. They made small talk during dinner, and by the night’s end, Sasha and Vince were curled up on his sofa watching a rented movie from Blockbuster. His arms were wrapped tightly around her as she leaned her head back against his chest. His chin rested atop her head. Neither of them moved a muscle long after the credits had gone up.

  “I wish you’d stay the night,” Vince finally said. “I would really hate to see you drive all the way across town this late.”

  “I didn’t bring any extra clothes.”

  “I’ll give you a shirt to sleep in,” he said, “and I have a guest bedroom or you can just take my bed. I’ll sleep right here.”

  “That’s sweet, but I really have to go.”

  Sasha gathered herself. She could’ve stayed in Vince’s arms all night. It felt as if she belonged there. She tried not to think about the long drive ahead of her, but she knew she had to go. It was important that she keep her feelings and hormones intact—they needed to be on the same page with her mind, and at the moment everything was out of whack.

  She stood and collected her things. Vince walked her to the car, and once she was securely in she took off. At least three times before she left his subdivision she considered turning around—thought of taking that guest bedroom after all. But her good sense overruled her body and she headed home.

  Chapter 15

  The plan had been to meet at IHOP for a quick breakfast with the girls and then to spend the entire Saturday at the outlet mall. It had been eons since the women spent their entire Saturday together—shopping, visiting a spa or hanging out at the Cheesecake Factory for hunks of the cream cheese-flavored goodness. They’d spent many a Saturday at the bookstore, thumbing through the pages of whichever popular novel had come out that week, or placing a fillet of salmon on the barbecue grill in Sasha’s backyard while sipping on mojitos. Once upon a time, Saturdays with the girls had been a standing event on Sasha’s calendar. She didn’t compromise when it came to that day. Whatever came up had to be rescheduled.

  By the time Bridget showed up for breakfast, Sasha and their cousin Vanessa had already snagged a booth in the crowded restaurant and flipped through the menu. Their server, Freda, had greeted them with a bright smile and her spiel regarding the specials of the day. Freda was an older woman with her hair slicked back into a ponytail. Her smock looked as if she’d been fighting in someone’s kitchen, with all sorts of stains on the front of it.<
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  “I swear you’re going to be late for your own funeral,” Sasha told her sister when she finally managed to drag into the restaurant.

  “I’m not really feeling breakfast these days. Wish we could’ve just skipped it,” Bridget said. She looked exhausted.

  “What’s going on with you, girl?” asked Vanessa. “You’re not looking yourself.”

  “I don’t feel like myself either,” said Bridget. “It feels as if something, or someone, has taken over my body.” Sasha hadn’t shared Bridget’s news with anyone. She wanted her to reveal her pregnancy to everyone in her own time.

  “I’m with child.” Bridget just blurted it out. It was as if she’d simply said, “I got a manicure this morning.” She turned to Freda and said, “I’ll have a glass of orange juice, please. And if you have some soda crackers on hand that I can nibble on, that would be great, too.”

  “Just regular old saltines?” Freda asked. She was a lot younger than her face revealed. She smiled innocently, but the hard lines on her face told a different story.

  “Yes, just regular old saltines,” Bridget mocked the woman, who had been nothing but customer friendly.

  When Freda was out of earshot, Vanessa revisited Bridget’s comment. “So you’re preggers already? You’ve only been married like a millisecond!”

  “Well, things happen,” Bridget stated.

  Vanessa’s posture changed. She went into I’m just an innocent bystander mode and said, “As long as you guys are both happy, then I’m happy for you.”

  “I’m happy,” Bridget stated nonchalantly, then added, “Derrick doesn’t know about it.”

  “What, Bridget!” Sasha exclaimed. “You still haven’t told him yet?”

  “I’m going to, Sasha. I just haven’t had time. It’s been a crazy week. I planned on doing it the day we got back from the Bahamas. Instead, he spent half the night watching Monday night football with his friends. So that didn’t happen. And I’ve been extremely busy this week at the boutique! I’m still playing catch-up and I’ve been so exhausted. I’ve never felt fatigue like this before. I just want to sleep all the time. By the time Derrick gets in from the office at night, I’m already well spent.”

  “You have to make time to tell him this, Bridge. This is not something you keep from your husband!”

  “I know, I know. You sound like your mother.” Bridget grabbed her sister’s glass of water and drank it in one gulp.

  “Sure, you can have my water,” Sasha said sarcastically.

  Freda brought saltine crackers along with plates filled with pancakes and sausages for Sasha and Vanessa. She placed them all on the table and asked, “Is there anything else I can bring you ladies?”

  “Yes,” said Bridget, “can you bring me my orange juice, please? The juice that I ordered, and a glass of water? No, how about a pitcher of water?”

  “Sure,” Freda said, “anything else?”

  “No,” said Bridget.

  Freda didn’t seem like one to be sassed. The jailhouse tattoos on her muscular arms were a good indication of that. Sasha wanted to explain this point to Bridget, who was obviously hormonal, but it was no use.

  “Thirsty, are we?” Vanessa asked after Freda disappeared.

  “I feel dehydrated,” Bridget said and then smiled. “So, Sasquatch. Have you told Vanessa your little secret?”

  Sasha was puzzled. “What’s my little secret?”

  “Vince, of course.”

  “Derrick’s friend?” Vanessa asked.

  Before she could get it out, Bridget had already run with it. “Sasha was seen around the resort in the Bahamas with him. Somebody even said they saw you two running in the rain together. What the hell was that?”

  “People should mind their own business,” Sasha warned.

  “Also—” Bridget took to eating Sasha’s ice out of her glass “—you were seen leaving his condo at an ungodly hour of the morning.”

  Vanessa and Bridget stared at Sasha. They were awaiting her response to the accusations. Sasha felt embarrassed and flustered. Had someone really seen her leaving Vince’s place? And if so, who?

  “What is going on, Sasha Winters?” Vanessa asked.

  She waited for Freda to leave from dropping off Bridget’s orange juice and pitcher of water. She poured maple syrup on her pancakes while she thought of something to say. She was at a loss for words, so she went to attorney mode. “I don’t know how to answer that.” When in a pinch, you play crazy.

  “You answer it with the truth!” Bridget said.

  Sasha found herself blushing uncontrollably.

  “So, you were leaving his condo at an ungodly hour,” Vanessa resolved. Sasha’s face was a dead giveaway.

  In her best Cuban accent, Bridget imitated Desi Arnaz from the I Love Lucy show. “Lucy, you got some ’splaining to do.”

  “Start from the beginning, sister. I want every little dirty detail.” Vanessa pointed her finger in Sasha’s face. “I already know that Vince is Derrick’s best friend...and I know that he likes to run in the rain.”

  “Allegedly likes to run in the rain. We can’t say for certain. That’s hearsay.” Bridget giggled and so did Vanessa.

  Sasha didn’t find it humorous that someone had been spying on them. She felt a bit violated, in fact. She pointed her long finger at Bridget. “She’s the one who sent him to pick me up at the airport in the first place. Why didn’t she come herself or tell me to catch a taxi?”

  She asked Vanessa these things as if Bridget wasn’t sitting there.

  “I was trying to help you out, girlfriend.” Bridget was on the defensive. “I didn’t want my sister trampling around aimlessly in an unknown place. I couldn’t get away, and Vince offered to help.”

  “Okay, so he’s helpful,” said Vanessa as if she was keeping a checklist of Vince’s attributes.

  “As soon as we get in the car together, we’re going at it,” Sasha explained.

  “Really? A lover’s quarrel within the first hour of meeting,” Vanessa teased. “That’s not good.”

  “He’s arrogant and cocky...yet, sweet and charismatic, all at the same time.”

  “So he’s schizophrenic.” Vanessa added that to her checklist, as well.

  “And he’s fine as hell,” Bridget added. “But I told her from the beginning that he wasn’t her type. He’s not as serious about his career as you are, Sasha.”

  “Interpretation—he doesn’t make enough money,” Sasha explained. “That’s Bridget’s opinion of him.”

  “Which is why I offered to introduce you to Paul, Derrick’s well-to-do friend. He comes with benefits.”

  “I’m not interested in Paul’s benefits,” Sasha said through clenched teeth.

  “Okay, time-out.” Vanessa formed her hands into the letter T. “Let’s fast-forward. Please explain to me why you were coming out of this man’s condo at an ungodly hour.”

  “We hit it off, okay? I like him.”

  “If your mother had seen you coming out of that man’s room,” said Bridget, “it would not have been pretty.”

  The three of them laughed. It was the one thing they all agreed on.

  “Charlotte Winters would’ve had a cow,” Vanessa said. “You’d be at church every Sunday for sure.”

  “And Wednesday night bible study too,” Bridget added.

  “I’m so proud of you, girl. And happy for you, Sash,” said Vanessa. “You met someone nice.”

  “Someone who can give you some babies,” Bridget added.

  “And rub your feet at night.” Vanessa smiled like a proud mother. “When are you bringing him to Sunday dinner?”

  “I don’t know. I might ask him to come for Thanksgiving.”

  “Oh, that would be nice, Sasha. And smart,” said Bridget. “Intro
duce him to all of your dysfunctional relatives early. That way there’s no surprises. That’s what I did with Derrick.”

  “You’re insane,” Sasha told Bridget with a chuckle.

  Sasha couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone out for breakfast. Saturday mornings, which had been filled with hearty breakfasts and yard sales, had become a thing of the past. Sasha had become a hopeless workaholic. Over the past few years, she’d slowly worked her way into a shell—distant from everything and everyone who was healthy and right. And now, she was slowly finding her life again, and it felt good.

  Chapter 16

  A small space had been transformed into an office. With boxes stacked against the wall and faded wallpaper hanging on the walls, you’d swear it was nothing more than a storage room. A chair, stool and other dental equipment were the only indication that someone performed root canals and extractions in the space. Sasha wondered why Vince had chosen to operate his business in a cramped room given by a nonprofit agency—providing virtually free services to people when he could own a successful practice in the suburbs, where people would pay top dollar for his skills.

  “If I don’t fix the teeth of the children and elderly in our community, no one else will,” Vince explained when Sasha asked.

  “What about your own livelihood?”

  “I make a nice living. My father left me well put. He left me a trust when he died, and I made some smart investments. The nonprofit agency pays me a small salary, but I’m not here for the money.”

  It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon and Vince had invited Sasha to his office to take a look around. She’d normally have gone into her own office for a few hours—prepared legal documents or returned some emails—but this Sunday had been different. He’d convinced her to meet him for brunch at one of his favorite spots, Gladys Knight and Ron Winans’ Chicken and Waffles. Sasha couldn’t remember the last time she’d had chicken and waffles.

  She and Vince hadn’t spoken in a few days. Not since he’d tried convincing her to spend the night with him.