Craving Temptation

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  “Why?”

  “You know why.”

  “No,” she said emphatically. “I don’t.”

  Troy took another deep breath and held it, seeming to choose his words carefully. “Because there is something special about you, Amina Salman. I saw it in your eyes. That’s why.”

  She felt a rush of heat course through the pit of her stomach as butterflies took flight. No man had ever made her feel the way she was suddenly feeling about Troy Elliott. She took a deep breath and held it.

  Amina wasn’t necessarily naive when it came to the ways of men. She’d been dating since high school, some good and some not so good guys. Her mother had been supportive of most of her choices. A select few hadn’t given either of the women any warm and fuzzy feelings. Too many lunches and dinners had never amounted to much of anything, not one teasing her sensibilities the way Troy was suddenly teasing her. Amina could only imagine what her father would have to say, especially since her twenty-one about-to-be twenty-two-year-old sister had yet to enjoy any man’s company.

  Two hours later she and Troy were still talking, banter flowing easily between them. When Rasheeda knocked on the bathroom door, the harsh rap jarred Amina back to the moment. She depressed the mute button on her cell phone.

  “I won’t be much longer, Rasheeda!” she said.

  “Hurry up! I have to go,” the girl whined.

  “I promise, I’ll be right out,” Amina repeated. She resumed her conversation. “Troy, I hate to end this but it’s late,” Amina said.

  “I understand,” Troy said. “I appreciate your not hanging up on me sooner.”

  Amina smiled into the receiver. “You have a good night, Troy.”

  “Can I call you again tomorrow?” Troy asked, “Or maybe you can stop by the bakery for a cookie?”

  Her smile widened. “Definitely call me again,” she said, her voice a loud whisper.

  “Good night, Amina,” Troy whispered back.

  “Sweet dreams, Troy!”

  Amina and her father were already at odds over his political stance. He’d come out of the gate being critical of the current mayor and Amina wholeheartedly disagreed with that approach. They’d been butting heads most of the morning about him publicly voicing negative opinions about his opponents.

  “Father, you would be better served to present a positive front about your platform. Focus on the changes you would make if elected, not what your opponents are doing wrong.”

  Basil chimed in with his two cents. “Father should point out their shortcomings. He needs to let people know that he would do things differently. He wouldn’t award contracts to his friends. He wouldn’t underfund the schools or the police department and the incumbent has done all those things and more. You’ve heard the rumors about his other dealings.”

  Amina blew a deep sigh. “It’s only been alleged that the current mayor has done those things, Basil, which is why Father doesn’t need to risk making them issues without definitive proof. Father’s campaign needs to be about the strengths he brings to the table that will benefit the citizens of Memphis. We do not want to run a negative campaign.”

  Basil shrugged his shoulders, his eyes rolling skyward. “I don’t agree.”

  “You don’t have to,” Amina responded. She looked toward her father, waiting for him to respond.

  Nasser looked from one offspring to the other. “I am personally offended, Amina, by the mayor’s actions. He’s cut services for our youth and the elderly while giving incentive packages to a number of corporate interests. I agree with Basil. I think voters need to be reminded of that and I think I can point those shortcomings out and show how I’ll govern differently at the same time.”

  Amina wished she could smack the smirk off Basil’s face, his grin wide and full. She blew another deep sigh, feeling that her father taking such a position was a mistake and would not serve his campaign well. She told him so.

  Nasser nodded. “I appreciate your opinion, Amina, but that’s the direction I plan to go in.”

  “I still don’t agree that attacking the current mayor is a good thing. And what about the other candidates and their positions? Do you plan to attack them, too?” Amina questioned.

  Basil interjected a second time. “What other candidates? The mayor is Father’s only true competition and only because he already has the job.”

  Amina rolled her eyes. “Basil, that kind of arrogance will not get Father elected. There is a very worthy list of candidates all vying for this position and you cannot take that for granted. He’s going to have to beat out a field of twenty-five people who have declared their candidacy, including Mark Prentiss, who’s the Shelby County public defender, and attorney Troy Elliott, who has an impeccable public reputation.

  “His reputation is not that impeccable,” Basil chimed.

  Amina bristled ever so slightly. “Do you know him?”

  “Who, the public defender?”

  “No, Troy Elliott.”

  Basil shrugged. “Not really but I’m sure if we dig deep enough we can easily find some dirt on him to knock him out of the running. Like I said, Father has no true competition.”

  Amina threw her hands up in frustration. She turned to her father. “May I speak with you privately, please?”

  Nasser nodded, waving a dismissive hand at Basil. Her brother hesitated for a brief second before turning an about-face and moving to the other side of the room.

  Amina reiterated her concerns one last time.

  Nasser smiled, pressing a warm palm against his daughter’s face. “You need to trust in me, Daughter. I will keep everything you’ve said in mind but I must follow my instincts.”

  “There’s something else, Father,” Amina started, pausing for a brief moment. “And I know you’ll think it’s inappropriate for me to be bringing this to you.”

  “What bothers you, Amina?”

  “Basil. I am offended by some of his behavior. He mistreats Rasheeda. He tries to bully me. Basil is a tyrant and that kind of behavior is not only oppressive, it’s barbaric. He’s verbally and emotionally abusive to us both and it’s not right.”

  “I disagree, Amina. Your brother is only asserting his position as a man. Rasheeda understands that. And as a Muslim woman you need to be more accepting of your role as a woman.”

  “My role?” Amina questioned, her eyes wide.

  Nasser nodded. “As the prophet Mohammed has said, men have authority over women because Allah has made the one superior to the other, and because they spend their wealth to maintain them.”

  “And that justifies him treating us badly? Because I don’t see Basil paying any of my bills.”

  “Good women are obedient, Amina. Your mother would not accept that and she has not taught you that. Now you come home to us and want to criticize our ways and our beliefs and your brother is offended by that.”

  “I have never criticized any of your beliefs, Father. Never!”

  “But you mock us, Amina. Look at how you’re dressed. You know how I feel about the attire you wear and you still don’t heed my words, or your brother’s.”

  Her father quoted his beloved prophet a second time. “Women should guard their unseen parts because Allah has guarded them.”

  Amina looked down to the business suit she wore. Her silk blouse was buttoned to the neck, the collar a large bow tied neatly beneath her chin. The skirt fell below her knees with a matching blazer in a dark shade of gray. The heel on her shoe was barely an inch high, the simple leather pump as nondescript as she could find. She’d be willing to argue that her unseen parts were very well guarded. She couldn’t fathom how her father would deem her clothing modest and appropriate only when she was wearing a hijab and veil. She looked back up and met his stare.

  “Your brother is offended when you do not heed Allah’s teachings.”

  Amina took a deep breath. “Are you offended, Father?”

  Nasser smiled. “I hope that in time you will change your ways, Daughter. I am confide
nt that we will help you to know and understand where your mother failed you.”

  Before Amina could respond Basil called out to their father, gesturing for his attention and just like that Nasser dismissed her. She watched as the two men stood huddled in conversation. She suddenly imagined that if things were bad before they were only going to get worse.

  6

  “You cannot go to dinner with that woman,” Mike admonished as he maneuvered his car through downtown Memphis. He cut an eye toward Troy, then returned his gaze to the road.

  “Why not?” Troy questioned, cutting an eye back at his friend.

  “She’s working for your opponent. Her father wants to be mayor, too. Isn’t that reason enough?”

  Troy shook his head. “No.”

  “She’s a distraction and your being distracted could very well cost you the election. How about that?”

  Troy had to ponder his friend’s comment. Amina was a distraction, he thought, but a very pleasant one. Since that first call, he’d called her every night, his day feeling incomplete until he heard her voice. Their conversations lasted into the wee hours of the morning as they were slowly getting to know each other. Troy liked talking to her and he imagined that spending time with her would be even sweeter. He had no interest in heeding his friend’s concerns.

  He chuckled. “You’re worried about nothing. It’s just dinner.”

  Mike cut another eye at him and shook his head.

  “Change the subject,” Troy countered. “Because I have no intentions of changing my mind or canceling my date.”

  “The fundraiser went exceptionally well,” Mike said, referring to the lunch event they’d just left. “Those women were just clamoring to support you. You might not get that kind of support if you’re chasing after one woman.”

  Troy blew a loud sigh. “Leave it alone, Mike. I mean it.”

  “I’m just saying. If you’re going to sport that GQ thing you have going on we might as well work it to our advantage. You can be a political superstar and instead of the babes tossing their panties at you they can toss their checkbooks and credit cards. A pair of panties here and there would be okay, too.”

  Troy laughed. “On the serious, what do you know about Nasser Salman? Is he a contender?”

  “He’s pulled together an impressive campaign team. Amina is like the cherry on top of some very sweet cake. The woman has mad skills. If I could have I would have run for mayor and hired her for myself.”

  “So you’re saying she’s better than you are?”

  “Hell, yes!” Mike chimed.

  Both men laughed as Mike continued. “Hey, you know I’m good and you know I’ll work my butt off for you but she’s so good she scares me. The woman is hardcore. She has the credentials, a stellar reputation, and she’s cute as hell! The only thing she’s lacking is my killer personality and great sense of humor.”

  Troy smiled, knowing that he could personally attest to Amina’s having both a winning personality and a great sense of humor. He nodded. “Okay, so Mr. Salman has an edge on us. We’ll use that to our advantage. Amina will keep us both on our toes.”

  Mike cut an eye at him. “Brother, it’s not your toes I’m worried about!”

  When Amina entered the bakery, Harper and her husband were seated at a table with another couple. Harper cradled an infant in her arms as the four adults cooed over the small bundle.

  Nervous anxiety spilled past her veil, furrowing Amina’s brow and her friend noticed it instantly.

  “Amina, hey! What’s wrong?” Harper intoned as she moved quickly to her feet and made her way to Amina’s side.

  Amina waved a nervous hand. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said as she smiled down at the baby still in Harper’s arms.

  “You’re not,” Harper answered. “Not at all.”

  “Who’s this little cutie?” Amina asked.

  “This is our goddaughter, Joanna,” she said as she snuggled the baby closer to her chest.

  Amina smiled again. “She’s beautiful.”

  The handsome man seated at Quentin’s side chimed excitedly. “That’s my little princess,” he said. “She looks just like her mother!”

  Amina extended her hand in introduction. “Amina Salman,” she said, “and little Joanna looks a lot like her father, too, I think!”

  “Yes, she does!” Dwayne laughed. “Nice to meet you, Amina. I’m Dwayne Porter and this is my wife, Rachel.”

  “Dwayne and Rachel grew up with Quentin and Troy,” Harper explained. “They’ve been friends since forever.”

  “You just made my husband’s whole day!” Rachel said as she laughed with them. Her gaze skated from the top of Amina’s veiled head down to the length of hem that skirted against the floor as she surveyed the woman’s appearance. “It’s nice to meet you, Amina,” she said as she appraised her. “I followed your lawsuit against the State of Georgia for student rights. Congratulations! It set some serious precedents that many states are now adopting. That was very nice work.”

  “Thank you,” Amina smiled. “Are you an attorney, too?”

  Rachel nodded. “I am. I have a private practice here in Memphis. We specialize in corporate litigation. On occasion some criminal. We were thinking of acquiring a new partner a few years ago and your brother, Basil, had given me your name. I did some research and was very impressed.”

  Quentin interjected. “Troy and Rachel are also legal partners,” he said.

  Amina’s eyes widened. “Oh,” she said, her voice dropping ever so slightly, surprised that her brother would have thought to recommend her for anything.

  Dwayne suddenly made the connection. “You’re related to Basil Salman?” he questioned.

  Amina nodded. “Yes. He’s my brother.”

  Rachel shook her head at her husband. “Didn’t I just say that?”

  Quentin nodded. “You know your man is a little slow.”

  Dwayne tossed a look around the table, his eyebrows raised. “So that would make Nasser Salman, who’s campaigning against Troy for mayor, your father?”

  Amina nodded. “Yes, he is.”

  “Amina is her father’s campaign manager,” Harper added.

  “Please don’t hold that against me,” Amina said, making them all laugh. “So how do you know my family?” she asked, looking from Dwayne to Rachel and back.

  “Your brother and I did some business together a while back,” Dwayne answered. “Rachel was the attorney on the deal.”

  “What business was that?” Amina questioned. She eyed him curiously.

  “I own a large food-services company and your brother brokered the sale of a small business I acquired.”

  In the back of her mind Amina recalled her father’s excitement over Basil’s accomplishment. “You own Home Grown Foods?”

  Dwayne smiled. “I do and at the time we were looking to expand into the halal market. Your brother was instrumental in helping us acquire the right partners.”

  Quentin looked confused. “Halal? What’s that?”

  “In Arabic, the word halal means ‘permitted or lawful.’ Halal foods are foods that are allowed under Islamic dietary guidelines,” Amina answered.

  “Interesting,” Quentin said.

  “It actually is,” Dwayne added. “According to the guidelines gathered from the Quran, there are a number of foods that Muslim followers cannot consume. It’s not just about pork or pork by-products. I wanted a product line aimed at that market and I wanted to make sure we got it right.”

  “That was very socially conscious of you,” Amina said.

  Rachel shook her head. “I wish. With my husband it is always about the money. Don’t let him fool you.”

  Dwayne shrugged. “I won’t lie. My bottom line is very important to me.”

  Amina gave him a slight smile as she nodded her head slightly.

  “Didn’t Basil and Troy go to high school together?” Rachel suddenly questioned.

  Quentin shook his head. “I don’t think so.
”

  “No,” Dwayne added. “I think Basil went to Melrose High. You all went to Melrose, right?”

  Amina shrugged. “I actually went to school in Atlanta.”

  “Speaking of Troy,” Harper said, a puzzled expression crossing her face. “Don’t you two have a dinner date tonight?”

  Amina took a deep breath as an awkward silence suddenly filled the space. Her eyes shifted around the table, everyone staring in her direction. Her voice dropped an octave as she met Harper’s stare. “I do,” Amina answered, biting down against her bottom lip, her anxiety rising a second time. “I actually need a big favor,” she said.

  Harper nodded. She passed Baby Joanna back to her mother’s arms. “Anything,” she said as she excused herself from the group and guided Amina back across the room, through the double doors and into the kitchen.

  Once they were out of everyone’s earshot Amina blew a calming breath past her thin lips. Harper eyed her curiously, waiting for her to speak.

  “Do you think I can change my clothes here?” Amina finally asked. “I can’t go home to change so I told Troy I’d meet him here. My father would have a fit if he found out.”

  Harper laughed. “That’s not a problem at all.”

  Amina looked skeptical. “I’ll have to change again when our date is over. I promise it won’t be too late though,” she said.

  Harper nodded. “Don’t you worry about that. Come on,” she said, gesturing for Amina to follow her to the back stairwell that led to the private living space above the bakery.

  The second floor boasted a family room, a kitchen with a breakfast nook, and a mudroom. There was also a third floor with a master bedroom and bathroom, a guest suite, a home office, and a deck that sat atop a garage and looked out over a garden. The calming green color from the bakery below flowed throughout the space.

  “This is very nice,” Amina said as Harper showed her around upstairs.

  “This is where my father and the boys used to live,” Harper said. “When I moved in Quentin was camping out here periodically. Once we got married it didn’t make much sense for us to move, especially with the schedule Quentin has to keep with the bakery.