by Rhonda Bowen
“Alone at the homes of single men.” Milo finished for her. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”
“I was only there once with Morgan and Derek for a business meeting, back when Khai helped us deal with that scandal with Derek’s ex-girlfriend.”
Portia still felt threads of anger run through her as she thought of the incident, which happened less than a year ago. Derek’s old girlfriend had come back trying to rekindle the flame. When Derek told her he wasn’t interested, she attempted to ruin his career with some doctored photographs. Thankfully Khai - being the fixer he was - helped them discover the truth and share it with the world.
She still remembered that first meeting, the first time she’d met him. The first words out of his mouth to her were how beautiful she was. She had never met him before, never heard about him prior to that day. But ever since, he appeared to be a fixture in her life.
“Ahh, okay.” Milo stood to her feet and moved to the corner of the room where her duffel bag and shoes were. “That’s how you guys met right?”
Portia followed her. “Yup.”
“And he’s been chasing you ever since.”
“I wouldn’t say chasing exactly. To chase someone you would have to be around all the time and Khai, well...Khai has stability issues.”
“Hmm, I’d say his focus on you has been pretty stable in the last six months,” Milo grinned as she pulled on her boots. “And I don’t think it’s wavering just because you told him you can’t date him.”
Portia sighed as she pulled on her own shoes. “He told me to go out with Brady.”
“Reverse psychology.” Milo pulled an oversized sweater over her leggings and crop top. “He’s just telling you that so you’ll keep your guard down while he’s sneaking his way into your heart. Mind game, babe.”
“Great,” Portia pulled on her coat and buttoned it. “Like I need more people in my head.”
The two women took the three flights of stairs down to the first floor of the multi-business building. The cool autumn air whipped them as they stepped outside. Portia pulled her scarf closer. It was barely two weeks until Thanksgiving. But already, it felt like winter. A dusting of flurries the week before had reminded them that it wouldn’t be long now.
It wasn’t even six, but the sun had already set. The sky turned a muted blue as they walked along the concrete sidewalk.
“You still coming with me to this feeding?” Portia glanced over at Milo who was bundled up beside her.
“Mhmm.” The sound came through the scarf that was wrapped around the bottom half of Milo’s face.
Portia laughed. “Aren’t you from Canada, Milo? Plus, you’ve been in New York for almost seven years. How are you not used to the cold by now?”
“Just because I’m used to it doesn’t mean I like it,” Milo shuddered in her winter coat. “One day, when I’m rich enough or find a man who is, I’m moving to Cali or some place warm. This body is made for beaches and warmer climates, okay? This feeding better be indoors. I was feelin’ the Christmas spirit when I offered to come, but that feeling might just cool off in this cold.” Milo slipped into the passenger seat of Portia’s car.
Portia nodded as she closed the driver’s door and started the engine. “Yes, it’s indoors. Gives the homeless a good meal and a break from the cold for a few hours. But we gotta hustle cause they probably already started.”
They arrived at the Church of the Holy Trinity within ten minutes and were met by members from the Holy Trinity church as well as several from Portia’s church, Queens Faith Temple. The auditorium, which was in the lower basement level of the church, was well heated. A warm reprieve from the chill outside. The room, which Portia knew had been nothing but plain walls before, had been transformed with round tables, covered in deep yellow linens which matched the chocolate brown chair covers. Centerpieces of silk red, orange and gold leaves and pinecones lifted the decor to another level. They tied in well with the autumn wreaths that hung on the room’s walls.
“Wow, you guys did it up,” Milo nodded as she looked around. “Y’all must have been here all night.”
Portia smiled in appreciation. She had been at the auditorium until almost midnight the day before helping to make it happen. “Yes, it was a lot of work, but everyone wanted to do this for those without. It’s not just about the meal. It’s about the experience. People will be grateful for the food, but I hope they feel how much we care, how much Christ cares from all the extra details.”
Milo nodded. “Well, I’ve never been much into the church thing, but you guys have sold me on the caring part.” She turned to Portia. “What do you need me to do?”
“Let’s go find out.”
It didn’t take them long to find Portia’s pastor who was in the kitchen with his sleeves rolled up.
“Pastor Greg.”
The man’s face broke into a warm smile as he greeted them. “Portia, glad you made it. Who’s your friend?”
“This is Milo,” Portia nudged the slightly taller woman as she stood beside her. “I told her about the event and she wanted to come out and help. What can we do?”
“One of you can help me mash these potatoes,” a plump woman called out from the other side of the kitchen. “Our second wave of dinner guests will come by around seven and we need to be ready for them.”
“Yes, ma’am”
Before Portia could blink, she found herself and Milo pulled into the busyness of the evening. The women barely got a chance to talk to each other for the next two hours as they went from helping in the kitchen, to serving, to cleaning up. Portia’s feet and back ached from carrying stacks of dishes and food containers and the constant walking, but it was the pleasant ache of productive work. And it was worth it for every smile she saw and every plate scraped clean.
Around eight-thirty, Portia went to find Milo. She was collapsed on a chair in a corner, digging into a plate of food.
“Hey, you broke for dinner without me?”
Milo shook her head as she finished her mouthful. “Girl, your pastor’s wife gave me this plate, told me I had to eat it. And with this smelling better than anything I have at home, I was not about to argue.”
Portia shook her head. “Slacker.”
Milo grinned and offered her a second fork. “You’re lucky I like you. That’s the only reason I’m even offering to share.”
Portia pulled up a chair and dug into the plate.
“I gotta say, this is pretty awesome,” Milo said. “Can’t believe you guys do this every week.”
Portia nodded. “Brady wanted to do something tonight. When I told him why I couldn’t, he said he might come by some time.”
“Oooh.” Milo wiggled her eyebrows. “Listen to you two talking about future plans. You guys serious?”
Portia popped a piece of cauliflower in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Maybe.”
“Well, he hits all the high points on that crazy man-list you got. But what about the rest of him.” Milo nudged her with her shoulder. “Are you feelin’ the whole package?”
Portia laughed. “I don’t know. I guess.”
Milo put her fork down. “You guess? Girl, ain’t nobody guessing when it comes to a man. He’s either dope or corny. Loaded or busted. You either feelin’ him or not. And let me tell you, right now it sounds like you’re not.”
Portia shrugged. “He’s a nice guy.”
“But?”
“But, do I want to see him every day? I don’t know.”
Milo shook her head. “I don’t know if this brother is just lame, or this is you getting in your own head again. I’m just gonna tell you this one more time. You have to open yourself up, P. There are good men out there. Not every guy is going to hurt you.”
Portia sighed. “I know. You’re right. It’s just...”
What? That something was missing with Brady? How could she say that, especially when she wasn’t quite sure what the something was?
Her ringing cellphone saved her from having to finish
her sentence. She fished it out of her pocket and looked at the name on the screen. She showed it to Milo and laughed as her friend rolled her eyes.
Portia swiped the green phone icon to answer the call.
“This is me calling before.”
“Hello to you too, Khai.” Portia swiped a piece of chicken from Milo’s plate.
“Hey, PJ. Where are you?”
“At Holy Trinity.” Portia answered, chewing.
“Holy Trinity? I thought you were Protestant?”
Portia rolled her eyes. “I am. What do you want, Khai?”
“Well, I was going to stop by and see you before I left, but seeing that you’re not home...”
Portia sat up. “Where are you going?”
“L.A. Leaving tomorrow. I should be back after Thanksgiving. You know, trying to do the holiday thing with the family, and as you know there are quite a few of them,” he said. “Plus, since you sent me on that guilt trip about spending time with my mom--”
“I didn’t guilt you. All I said was moms have a special thing about their sons.”
“Yeah all that,” Khai said. “I’m gonna try and put in some time with her.”
“You make it sound like a chore.”
“Believe me, it takes effort.”
Portia smiled. “Well, I’m sorry I missed you. But, I am glad you’ll be spending time with your family.”
“Yeah, I’ll probably be thinking about you though,” he said. “My brother’s wife doesn’t cook every night like you do, and Dad and Pamela are vegan.”
“Wow,” Portia deadpanned. “And here I thought you would be missing our scintillating conversations.”
Khai laughed. “That too. Save me some turkey, beautiful. I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”
“Bye.”
Portia ended the call looking at the phone a moment before she noticed Milo looking at her.
“What?”
“Hmm,” Milo took a bite of the slice of pumpkin pie someone had brought over. “It’s like he knew we were talking about Brady.”
Portia laughed out loud but Milo shook her head. “I done told you. Blocking.”
Chapter 10
Khai hated climbing balconies.
Apart from the obvious danger of falling off and breaking his neck, it also made him feel like a thief. And he wasn’t a thief. Unless, taking information that wasn’t directly given to you could count as stealing. Could it?
No.
That wasn’t stealing. Just because you had the information didn’t mean the person you took it from was now without it. That was the beauty of knowledge, so many people could have it at the same time and it would still keep its value.
His muscles ached as he pulled himself up the rope attached to the metal railing of the fifth floor balcony. When he was a kid, he always wanted to be Batman. But Batman lied. This stuff was not nearly as easy as it looked. He missed the days when every building had a fire escape. These new fancy buildings with their fire stairs and special exits made life difficult for people like him.
He let out a slow breath as he climbed over the edge of the railing onto the dark empty outdoor terrace. The glass doors were closed, but the curtains were pulled to the side. It appeared to be as empty as it had been ten minutes earlier when he had cased the place from the building directly across from it. Still, he watched for five minutes before trying the sliding doors.
Static crackled in his ear as he slipped inside the condo.
“Boss, you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here, Max,” Khai whispered quietly. “They’re still sitting tight?”
“Yup. Got eyes on everyone.” Khai could hear Max chewing in the background. Probably carrot sticks. His wife had him on a diet. “Everyone just sat down to dinner.”
“Great.” Khai moved through what looked like a living room down a hallway.
“Speaking of which, isn’t your brother expecting you for Thanksgiving dinner?” Max asked.
“I told him I would be a little late.” Khai peeked through the first doorway and moved out when he saw the Transformers bedspread.
“A little?”
“Yes, a little,” Khai hissed back. “I should be there by seven thirty.”
“Boss, it’s seven right now.”
Khai tipped open another door and spotted shelves and a computer. “Bingo.”
“Huh?”
“Actually, I think I might be early,” Khai slipped inside the room. “Call me if anything changes.”
Khai moved the mouse. The screen lit up. The password screen didn’t surprise him. He had three on his computer and they were set on a timer. If you didn’t input all three passwords within sixty seconds, you got locked out of the system for twenty-four hours. He had even gotten himself locked out once because he hadn’t put in the passwords fast enough. It had been annoying, but his security was worth the inconvenience.
He powered the computer off. Inserted a DVD into the drive then rebooted the PC, booting it directly from the disk. Within seconds, he was looking at the passwords for the computer. Another restart without the DVD, a quick input of the password and a picture of a family greeted him from the desktop. His fingers stilled as he looked at the picture for a long moment, a man about his age, a younger woman with smiling eyes and two little boys.
That could have been him. Could have been his life.
He could feel the anger simmer inside, but before it could heat to a boil, he opened a file explorer window and got down to business.
“How’s it going?” Max’s voice crackled in his ear again.
“I’m almost done,” Khai watched the last file copy onto the thumb drive, before pulling it out of the computer hard drive. “How do the stairs look?”
“Clear,” Max said. “But I wouldn’t risk it.”
Khai sighed as he restarted the computer. He stuck the thumb drive into the pocket of his black jacket. “Balcony it is.”
Going down was significantly easier than climbing up. Within minutes, Khai dropped to the ground and jogged across the grass to the street a few meters away.
“Okay, I’m clear,” Khai slipped into his car and started the engine. “And it’s only seven-twenty. Guess who’s going to be on time for dinner?”
Max snorted. “You’ll probably have a better time than I do. You know Linda is making me eat Tofurkey? Who does that on Thanksgiving?”
Khai laughed as he pulled onto the road. “A wife who wants her husband to make it into the next decade without a heart attack.”
“Yeah, well I’d rather die happy.”
“Not your choice, my friend.”
“Don’t I know it,” Max snorted. “Happy Thanksgiving. See you tomorrow.”
“Happy Thanksgiving.”
Khai smiled as he pulled out his earpiece and tossed it into the console between the front seats. Max complained but Khai knew the man was happy. Max would have sat down to peanut butter and jelly sandwiches if it meant he got to sit with Linda. Though he was younger than Khai, Khai had never met a man more happy to be settled and tied down to one woman.
Speaking of women...
Khai unlocked his phone and pushed speed dial 4. It rang three times before the sound of music and loud voices filled his car.
“Shouldn’t you be with your family now, mister?”
Khai smiled at the sound of Portia’s voice. “I’m on my way now. Happy Thanksgiving, PJ.”
He heard a door close then the background noise disappeared. “Happy Thanksgiving. Which house are you heading to?”
“Kristoffe’s. He’s got real turkey. Plus, my nephews made me cross my heart and hope to die, so I have to show up.”
“Ahh. So the nephews are the ones who have you under control. Maybe I should talk to them, get some pointers.”
“You will.” His grin stretched wider at the thought. “One day.”
“Well, don’t let me keep you,” Portia said. Was it his imagination or was there a tinge of softness in her voice just then?
>
“Okay. Just wanted to call and wish you the best. Remember to save me some turkey.”
“I will, if I can wrangle it away from Derek. We made two this year, hoping to satisfy the masses. But my cousins and uncles eat like a football team.”
Khai laughed as he pulled into his brother’s driveway and shut off the engine.
“You might have to settle for some pumpkin pie.”
He grinned. “I’ll be by for mine on Sunday. Go enjoy the rest of your night.”
“Bye, Khai.”
A knock on the window caught his attention. He turned to find two small pale faces pressed against the glass. He made a face back then opened the door and grabbed them both in his arms before they could run.
Their screams echoed like music in his ears as he kicked the car door closed and carried them to the front door where their mother was waiting.
“Mandy, what are you feeding these boys?” Khai asked as she made space for him to carry the squirming bundles inside. “They weigh a ton.”
“Oh, those are the Rochester genes right there,” Mandy closed the door behind him. “Those little monkeys have been growing like weeds.”
“Well, I think your excellent cooking has something to do with it,” Khai embraced his sister-in-law after putting the boys down. “Happy Thanksgiving, Mandy.”
She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving, Khai. For a moment we thought you wouldn’t make it on time.”
“Not a chance.” He shrugged out of his coat. “Everyone start yet?”
“Is that my loser kid brother?”
An older, bulkier copy of Khai with white blond hair came into the foyer and grabbed him in a hug. Khai slapped his brother on the back with a laugh.
“Old man, good to see you,” Khai said stepping back from him. “And apparently there’s a lot more of you to see than usual.”
Mandy rolled her eyes as she headed towards the dining area. “Tell him again. Maybe then he’ll stop eating like he’s nineteen instead of thirty-nine. And you wonder why my children look like mini linebackers.”