Close Quarters: A Novel (Zane Presents)

by Ray, Shamara

  “Mother doesn’t cook, Mrs. Bradford. She’s more concerned about me getting fat rather than being well-fed.”

  “I’m concerned about my son’s health and I’m certain that, as a mother, Cynthia can relate.”

  I quickly interjected with some levity. “I promise I won’t starve him or turn him into a pig. I’ll do my best to keep Ellis happily fed and healthy.”

  Ellis raised his glass. “I couldn’t ask for a better combination.”

  “As long as Melina won’t be plying you with that heavy, artery-clogging Southern fare she grew up on. No offense, Cynthia and Lawrence. I just know how that type of cuisine can take a toll on your heart.”

  “The key is moderation,” my mother said.

  “I suppose, but I never touch the stuff. Fried food dripping in grease and sauces should be avoided at all costs.”

  “Well, thankfully Lawrence and I are in perfect health.”

  “I plan to have my chef teach Melina how to cook,” Bebe said.

  My mother cocked her head to the side. “My daughter knows how to cook as evidenced by tonight’s dinner. Melina has been cooking since her early teens.”

  “Oh, Cynthia, I only meant that my chef can share health-conscious recipes with our children. We certainly want them to have a long-lasting life together.”

  Ellis interrupted. “That’s thoughtful of you, Mother. More wine, anyone?”

  My father passed his glass to Ellis. “So where are you two planning to honeymoon?”

  “We’ve narrowed it down to either Fiji or St. Barts,” I said.

  Bebe shook her head. “That will never do.”

  “I think either of those places sound absolutely lovely,” my mother retorted.

  “The Harlows honeymoon in Europe. It’s tradition. And we’re not going to start breaking tradition with this wedding.”

  “I can respect tradition, but perhaps the children would like to start a few traditions of their own.”

  “Ellison knows they’ll honeymoon in Europe. We’ve already discussed it. Plans are being made. Cynthia, trust me. Melina will love it.”

  “It sounds as if my daughter has other plans for her honeymoon and that she and Ellis have some talking to do.”

  Bebe narrowed her eyes at my mother. “You’re right. The children can handle it. I’ve taken care of all the important details. It’s good that you’re finally here to help your daughter with the few remaining loose ends for the wedding.”

  I sensed the unmistakable brewing of a storm between my mother and Bebe. I cleared my throat. “Ellis, why don’t you take our parents to the theater room and put on a movie? I’m going to clean up the kitchen and then I’ll be right in.”

  My father finished the wine in his glass. “I think I’m going to take a rain check on the movie and turn in for the night.”

  “Really, Daddy? It’s only nine-thirty.”

  “It’s been a long day,” my mother said.

  “You’re going to bed, too?”

  “Yes, but I’ll be up bright and early tomorrow, so we can flesh out your wedding plans and go dress shopping.”

  I knew better than to argue with my parents. “Ellis can take you up to your room. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  My father pushed back from the table. “Good night, baby girl. Bebe, have a good evening.”

  “Sleep well,” Bebe replied.

  “You, too,” my mother answered.

  Ellis escorted my parents out of the kitchen. I cleared the plates from the table and loaded them into the dishwasher. Bebe leaned back in the chair and fixed her eyes on me.

  “Wasn’t that fun?” she said.

  That was not the pleasant voice that told my parents to sleep well merely seconds ago. I turned around to face Bebe. “I always love spending time with family.” I didn’t want to exclude anyone, so I was careful not to single out my parents. “Did you enjoy the paella?”

  “It was a little heavy for my taste. I’m not accustomed to eating food prepared in that manner. Sausage and seafood all mixed up in rice. No. No, I don’t believe I enjoyed it in the least.”

  I froze where I was standing. “Wow, okay. Well, I’m sorry you didn’t like it.”

  “Did I offend?”

  “Was it your intention to do so?”

  “You’d know if I was trying to offend you. I don’t understand you young girls. So temperamental.”

  “Bebe, it’s fine.” I lifted the paella pan from the table. “You didn’t enjoy dinner and that’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay. I wish my only issue was with your little dinner. Unfortunately, it’s more about class or, should I say, your lack thereof. Your interpretation of entertaining is unacceptable. I will never allow you to host my family, serving a meal like that.”

  “You can’t be serious.” I slammed the paella pan back down on the table. “I planned a family-style dinner for my parents, fiancé and his mother. Not every occasion is meant for formalities. These are my parents. I don’t have to put on a show for them.”

  “That’s obvious and I can see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, since your mother loved it. But I suppose if you weren’t shown better, then you can’t possibly know better.”

  “Bebe, you’re crossing the line and I’m trying to maintain some civility between us.”

  Bebe came over to my side of the table. “You are utterly disrespectful. Who do you think you’re speaking to, Little Ms. Melina? I think you better tread lightly.”

  “You have to give respect to get respect and if you think you can talk about my family, then you’re wrong.”

  “I don’t have to respect you or your family.” Bebe sneered at me, her disdain displayed on her face. “I can’t for the life of me figure out what my son sees in you. The only reason I haven’t told Ellison to break off your engagement is because I know he would go through with it just to spite me.”

  I could not believe what I was hearing. This woman was evil personified.

  “Ellis loves me, Bebe. There’s nothing more to figure out.”

  “Don’t test me, dear. I can put a halt to this wedding.”

  “Oh, really? What makes you think you can stop it? This is not your wedding. It’s my wedding!”

  “Don’t fool yourself.” Footsteps approached. “And don’t make too many tacky wedding plans with your mother tomorrow that I’ll have to undo. Remember, this is a Harlow affair.”

  Ellis came into the kitchen, focusing on me and his mother. Bebe headed to the door, hugging him on her way out. “Good night, son. Melina, thank you for such a delicious dinner.”

  I didn’t say a word to Bebe as she left the kitchen.

  Ellis leaned against the island, crossing his arms over his chest. “Lina, did you mean to ignore Mother?”

  “Yes, Ellis, I meant to ignore your trifling mother.”

  “Don’t start this foolishness again.”

  “Your mother is a phony, Ellis. We just had it out right here in this kitchen.”

  “Why are you always fighting with my mother?”

  “Do you ever have my back?” I said, my voice elevating. “Your mother is always fighting me. Why would you automatically think that I’m the catalyst?”

  “Because I know how much Mother loves you.”

  “Get a clue, Ellis. She hates me.”

  “I’m not going to tell you again to cut it out with all of this nonsense.”

  “You’re not going to tell me again?”

  “That’s what I said and I mean it, Lina. Stop it with the attacks on my mother.”

  “I’m sick of you, your mother and the warped relationship you two have. You are so blinded by her act and I don’t want to deal with it.” I pushed past him and stormed out the kitchen. “I need some air.”

  He followed behind me. “Where are you going?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, hurrying toward the front door. “Anywhere but here right now. I don’t even want to look at you.” I grabbed my coat from the closet
.

  Ellis was on my heels. “Are you crazy, going out in this weather?”

  “Yup. That’s it. I’m crazy, Ellis. And guess who’s making me crazy? Your mother—and you’re running a close second.”

  I snatched up my purse, pulled my coat closed and rushed out the door. The snow whipped across my face. Ellis called my name a couple of times before I hopped into my car and started the engine. I turned the windshield wipers to high, to clear off the two inches of snow that had accumulated, and then peeled out of the driveway. I couldn’t see out of the rearview mirror, but I left Ellis standing on the porch, watching me drive off into the storm.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  MALIK

  I sat across from Kai on the living room sofa and waited for her to respond. She crossed her legs and smiled at me. That sexy shit wasn’t going to work tonight.

  “So why am I just now hearing from you?” I repeated.

  “I didn’t know what happened until this afternoon.”

  “Cut the shit, Kai. I got fired yesterday morning. You didn’t wonder why I never made it to our meeting? What about the ten messages I left on your cell phone yesterday and all day today? Now you show up over here at almost nine at night, acting oblivious.”

  “I’m telling you the truth. After I left your office I received a distraught call from Justine. She told me that Ira was being rushed to the hospital with chest pains. I just dropped everything and ran out of the office to meet her. I didn’t realize that I had left my phone behind until I was almost at the hospital in White Plains. I stayed with Justine until Ira was out of the woods this morning. I went home to freshen up and I didn’t get to the office until early this afternoon. That’s when I found out what happened to you.”

  “And still no call.”

  “I was in shock that they let you go, Malik. I didn’t want to speak with you over the phone. I wanted to see you face-to-face.”

  “So you rushed right over a day and a half later.”

  “You don’t have to get sarcastic with me. I came over as soon as I could.”

  “So you see me. What’s up? What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “Are you all right? I mean, what happened?”

  “Maybe you can tell me. Donner is your boy. What did he tell you?”

  “I haven’t seen Gerry. He wasn’t in when I got to the office this afternoon.”

  “That’s convenient—just like Ira’s emergency. It seems your friends and family can’t stay out of the hospital.”

  “I understand you’re upset, but I don’t understand why you’re directing your anger at me.”

  “Because it’s real funny how you go missing when all of this shit is going down. I come in and you’re in my office telling me there’s an issue with the campaign and the next thing I know I’m fired. I don’t hear a peep out of you until you pop up at my door with half-assed excuses.”

  “I don’t appreciate the way you’re talking to me,” she said as she got up from the couch. She pushed my half-empty bottle of Patrón to the side and sat on the coffee table in front of me. “Tell me what happened.”

  “What is there to tell? Your boy fired me. I was blamed and took the fall for someone else’s fuck-up.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Are you?”

  “What kind of question is that? Of course, I am.”

  “You didn’t know that I was going to be held accountable for the missing logos on Sphere’s ads?”

  “No. Gerry had only told me of the problem right before you arrived.”

  “Gerry. It seems Gerry kept you abreast of way more shit than he told me. Why is that? What’s up with you and Gerry?”

  Kai threw her hands up. “I don’t like where you’re going with this, Malik. I think I better leave and give you time to cool off before we both say some things we might regret.”

  “Good idea.”

  Kai leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Feel better and call me when you’re in the mood to talk.”

  I reached past her to get my shot glass. “Later.”

  She grabbed her purse off the couch, then walked to the door without even a glance back.

  I refilled my glass and took another shot as Kai let the door slam behind her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  MELINA

  The flakes were blanketing the road, making it tough for my tires to get proper traction. I had spoken to Charlee and told her that I was on my way to her place in Harlem. At the rate the snow was falling I would never make it there. I was getting scared as cars in front of me slid across lanes on the parkway. Some cars were scattered along the shoulder with their hazard lights flashing and I saw several stuck in the embankment on the right side of the road. Rushing out of Ellis’s house during a snowstorm may not have been the smartest thing to do, but it was too late to turn around now. He had been blowing up my cell since I left. Each time it rang I sent him directly to voicemail.

  Two hours passed and at least six inches of snow had fallen. The wind gusts were making it difficult to see anything through the blowing snow. Traffic was at a crawl. My best option was to get home to Brooklyn.

  I followed behind an SUV on Atlantic Avenue, trying to drive in its tire tracks. When I finally turned onto my street, the snow was completely undisturbed and too high to navigate. I pulled as close as I could to the curb and parked my car on the corner in front of a No Parking sign. I texted Charlee to let her know I wasn’t coming.

  I draped my scarf over the top of my head and wrapped it around my face and neck. I slung my purse over my shoulder and stepped out of the car and into a foot of snow. The wind whipped past me, pushing me away from the car door. I caught hold of the side view mirror to steady myself. The heavy snow was clinging to my jeans and the wetness was already seeping into my ankle boots. I began the trek to my brownstone. A half block had never seemed so far. With each step my feet grew colder. My fingers were stinging. I couldn’t put my hands in my pockets because I needed to balance myself. If was going to go down in the snow I wanted to break my fall with my hands, not my head.

  I gripped the rail as I pulled myself up the stairs to the front door of the brownstone. Once inside the doorway, I stomped the snow from shoes, removed my scarf and brushed as much snow as I could from my jeans. I was shivering from the inside out. I made my way up the stairs to my apartment. I tried to unzip my purse to get my keys, but could barely bend my fingers. I banged on the door, hoping Malik was home. I didn’t hear any movement inside, so I fumbled with my purse again. It slipped from my hands and dropped to the floor. As I knelt down to pick it up, the door flew open.

  “Who the hell is it?” Malik bellowed.

  I teetered backward, falling on my ass. “Oh, my goodness. You scared me.”

  “Mel?” Malik peered down at me “What are you doing out here?” He extended his hand to pull me up. “Your hands are freezing. Get in here.”

  I followed him inside the apartment. He took my purse from me as I took off my soggy shoes and socks. I unbuttoned my coat.

  Malik held out his hands. “Give me that stuff. I’ll put it in the bathroom.”

  I peeled off my jeans and passed everything to him. “Thanks, Malik.”

  He paused and looked me over. I stood in the doorway, shivering in little more than a shirt that was barely covering my ass. “Go put on something warm, Mel.”

  Malik went down the hallway. I waited a moment until he was out of sight and then hurried to my room. I grabbed my plush robe and a thick pair of socks from the dresser drawer. I slipped off my shirt and slipped into the warmth of my robe. I sat on the edge of my bed and covered my frozen feet with my socks. I inhaled the atmosphere of my apartment—my bedroom—and felt a sense of tranquility and calm. The trek from Ellis’s was harrowing and I was thankful to be safely settled in my own home.

  I walked into the living room. Malik was sitting on the couch, pouring himself a drink. The lights were dim and jazz softly played in the background
. I noticed he had a five o’clock shadow and his hair was a bit curlier than usual. He was wearing a wife beater and a pair of long basketball shorts.

  “I put your bag over there.” He motioned to the chair in the corner.

  “Thank you.” I went to dig my cell phone out and placed it on the coffee table. Two more missed calls from Ellis. I eased down on the sofa across from Malik with a long sigh.

  “What are you doing out in this weather, Mel?”

  I appreciated that he didn’t take the direct approach. “I love the snow,” I said with a sardonic chuckle that turned into a broken sob. I covered my mouth with my hand to stifle the crying. I wiped my eyes with my robe sleeve.

  “You want me to make you some tea?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “You just came in covered with snow from head to toe. You need something to warm you up. I can see you shivering from here.” Malik got up and went to the kitchen. He came back with a shot glass. He poured me a drink from his bottle, then handed it to me.

  “What’s this?” I smelled the contents of the glass, wrinkling my nose.

  “It’s tequila. Drink it. It’ll warm you up.”

  I put the glass to my lips and tilted my head back. The tequila burned going down. I tapped my chest, coughing at the same time. I slid my glass over to Malik. “One more.”

  He raised his eyebrows but obliged. He handed me my shot before filling his glass again. We tapped glasses and then downed our shots together. I coughed. He didn’t. Malik shook his head at me.

  He leaned his head back against the couch. “I lost my job yesterday.”

  “Oh nooo,” I said, dragging my second word out a little too long. Obviously, tequila works fast. “What happened?”

  “I wish I could tell you. All I know is that I’m the fucking fall guy for some bullshit.”

  “That is some bullshit.”

  Malik laughed. “You better ease up on the tequila.”

  “Nope. Give me another.”

  He refilled my glass. “I busted my ass for that company. With less than two days before my campaign was supposed to go live, someone screwed me big time. I approved the final ads, but somehow an incorrect version got submitted. Of course, nobody knew shit.”