Craving Temptation

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  “I wish Rasheeda and I had grown up together. Our relationship started out a little rocky but once we got comfortable with each other, it was really good between us. She’s my baby sister and I love her to death and I’m definitely protective of her.”

  “I wish I could say that about Jasmine. She and her sister Taya don’t talk. I have seen them together at family events where they don’t speak to one another. And Jasmine has even refused to go places she knows her sister will be at.”

  “What could be so bad that they don’t even speak?” Rachel asked.

  “Taya’s a little different. Opinionated, condescending, judgmental, competitive, and a tad evil.”

  Rachel laughed. Amina shook her head for emphasis.

  “I actually think there’s some emotional disorder going on with her that makes it hard to get close to her,” Harper added.

  “That’s not good,” Amina said, “but I still don’t understand what could be so bad.”

  “It’s not good.” Harper took a bite of her fish, chewed, and swallowed before talking again. “About six years ago they got into a heated argument on Mother’s Day. Heated! Taya was having a bad day and she snapped at Jasmine the wrong way. They got into it. Things were said that couldn’t be taken back and Taya called her sister everything but a child of God. Their parents were mad and Jasmine walked away saying that she’d had enough. For a minute there everyone thought they might make up, then Father’s Day rolled around. Taya wanted to celebrate at her house and apparently Jasmine didn’t respond fast enough. Then Taya pitched a fit because Jasmine took her parents to dinner the week after and didn’t give her enough notice. It was all childish and stupid and you would think the two of them would be over it but Jasmine says she can’t do it anymore. She feels like she has always had to coddle her sister’s feelings and not once has her sister given her feelings any consideration. She cut Taya from her life and hasn’t looked back.”

  “That is so sad,” Amina said, unable to fathom not having Rasheeda in her life. She suddenly felt tears burning behind her eyelids.

  “What’s really sad is that their parents indulge the behavior. My grandmother says that Mrs. Holt should have put a stop to that mess when they’d been little. Instead it’s almost like she enjoys parenting them separately.”

  “Everyone has some kind of family drama,” Rachel said. “It’s just a shame.”

  “Well, I don’t want to think about me and Rasheeda never talking again. I need to figure out how to fix this.”

  “I’m just glad that with everyone else’s drama me and my man are getting along just fine,” Harper said as she sipped the last of her martini.

  “Me, too!” Rachel said with a snap of her fingers.

  “Me, three!” Amina chimed.

  The three women burst out laughing. They talked for another hour, sharing secrets and advice. When the last refill was delivered to the table Rachel lifted her glass.

  “Let’s toast, ladies!”

  Amina lifted her iced tea and Harper lifted her martini in salute.

  “I don’t have a sister but I consider you both to be my family. To good times with good friends, good sex with good men, and whatever else good we can think of!”

  “Hear, hear!” Harper chanted.

  Amina laughed. “You two have had a little too much to drink. I’m driving us all home!”

  Troy laughed as Amina replayed the afternoon for him. She’d been giggling since she’d walked in the door. He was glad that she’d allowed herself an opportunity to relax and he appreciated Harper and Rachel’s taking her mind off the things that were bothering her.

  They’d been lying in bed, trading easy caresses as they shared their respective days. Troy was concerned about his numbers, the polls showing the slightest dip in his popularity based on his very liberal views on the definition of family and marriage. It was the one issue where Amina’s father had a loyal following, his values popular with an ultraconservative, Southern mind-set that agreed with him in principle.

  “So what does Mike recommend?” Amina questioned.

  “He doesn’t think it’s a problem. His answer is to ignore it and focus on those issues where we’ve captured public opinion.”

  “I don’t agree.”

  “What do you think? How would you advise me to handle it?”

  Troy massaged her foot as she pondered his question. She closed her eyes for a brief moment as he applied just the right amount of pressure against the ball of her foot, his fingers pressing around the heel and moving her toes to curl. When she opened her eyes he was staring at her, his fingers gently teasing her calf.

  “You can’t ignore it. It’s a hotbed issue right now for all politicians and you can trust that someone is going to bring it up wherever you go. I’d advise you not to hide from it. You believe what you believe and you can agree to disagree. You don’t need to argue your opinion. You state it and move on. But you always end that conversation by saying everyone needs to do what makes them comfortable. That way you’re not pushing your opinion on anyone and you validate what someone else might be feeling or believe.”

  Troy was nodding his head slowly as he moved on to her other foot. “So do you want to come work for my campaign, Mrs. Elliott?”

  Amina laughed. “No, Mr. Elliott. I start my new job tomorrow and I’m very excited.”

  “Don’t let Rachel bully you because she can be a bully.”

  “Rachel and I will be fine together.”

  “I’m just warning you,” he said.

  “Duly noted,” Amina replied as she leaned forward to kiss his mouth.

  “Did you eat?” Troy asked. “Are you hungry?”

  “I’m antsy,” Amina said as she shook her body from side to side.

  “Do you want to go to the gym and work out?”

  Amina thought about it for a quick moment. “I think I really just want to walk.”

  “Then let’s walk,” he said as he slid his body off the bed, pulling her along behind him.

  After slipping on their running shoes the duo headed outside. There was a full moon floating in the late night sky. It shimmered bright like an oversize pearl in a sea of black silk. Side by side they walked the cul-de-sac, occasionally peering into their neighbors’ homes when curtains were open and lights were on.

  “Does Mrs. Turner ever speak to you?” Amina asked as they passed the one-story home at the end of the roadway.

  Troy glanced toward the Turner home, Mrs. Turner fussing about something as she stood in the center of her dining room. “All the time. She’s always been very sweet to me.”

  “I don’t think she likes me. She gave me the dirtiest look the other day.”

  Troy laughed. “You know, I hadn’t thought about it but she probably thinks we’re shacking up. She’s old-school so I’m sure not knowing we’re married has her thinking all kinds of things about the two of us.”

  “Well, we need to get that straight then.”

  He laughed again. “Don’t pay her an ounce of attention. If she wants to think we’re having wild, wicked sex, let her.”

  “But we are having wild, wicked sex,” Amina said as she tapped him against his backside.

  “Keep that up and I’m going to show you wild and wicked!”

  Amina’s giggles vibrated through the cool air. Even with the concerns she had on her mind she felt more at ease than she’d felt all week. Being with Troy felt like home no matter where they found themselves. She gave him a sidelong glance and she sensed he was deep in thought. As her gaze washed over his profile she couldn’t imagine herself ever loving any man more. She gently bumped against his shoulder and when he turned his head she gave him the sweetest smile.

  Troy grabbed her hand, entwining his fingers between each of hers. The walk back was an easy stroll as their arms swung between them. The air had just a hint of a chill to it, a cool breeze blowing over them. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of her fingers. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he pulle
d her into his side and held her close. He pressed a kiss against the top of her head, nuzzling his face into her curls. The sweet scent of vanilla and coconut teased his nostrils as he inhaled deeply.

  As they made it to the end of their driveway Troy spun her body against his and dropped his mouth to her mouth, kissing her earnestly. She tasted like mint ice cream and he savored the sweetness. Before either realized it Amina was sprawled across the hood of Troy’s 7-Series BMW, his body nestled nicely against hers. They kissed and kissed, so lost in the moment that neither noticed Mrs. Turner standing in the roadway, leash in hand as her cocker spaniel sat with its little head cocked to the side, staring at them.

  18

  Amina waved as Troy pulled out of the driveway, pointing his car in the direction of the bakery. His day was starting an hour earlier than hers; he needed to finish some paperwork for the business. As he tooted the horn and waved back, she grinned, her face lit with joy. Troy’s black sedan would forever be a favorite memory for her, their scandalous behavior just hours earlier teasing her sensibilities. She could only imagine what might have happened if their nosy neighbor hadn’t made her presence known. Imagining made her grin all over again.

  She tightened the belt that closed her bathrobe as she walked to the end of the driveway to collect the morning newspaper. The morning air was chilly and she felt a shiver spiral across her spine. She took a deep breath and then a second, the cold air invigorating her lungs.

  Pausing to scan the morning headlines, Amina had just turned to head back inside when her brother, Basil, suddenly moved to her side, gripping her harshly by the elbow. Startled, his sudden presence made her jump, her breath catching in her throat.

  “Basil!”

  Tossing a quick glance around the neighborhood Basil dragged her toward her front door and inside the home, slamming the door shut behind them.

  “What are you doing here?” Amina snapped as she snatched her arm from his grip.

  “Is that how you greet your brother, Amina?” he asked as he turned to look at her.

  “What do you want, Basil?”

  “I want you to remember your family responsibilities. That’s what I want.”

  Amina crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself tightly. “How dare you come into my husband’s home and . . .”

  “Your husband!” Basil snapped back as he took two hasty steps toward her.

  Amina stepped back quickly, grabbing for the house phone that rested on the table in the foyer. “I will call the police,” she warned, her finger prepared to push the emergency speed dial number.

  Basil stopped short, his gaze narrowed. He inhaled deeply, his lips pushed forward, annoyance painting his expression. He took a second breath then stepped back, both hands rising as if he were surrendering. “I apologize,” he said. “May I please sit down?”

  Amina eyed him with reservation, intuition warning her not to let her guard down. Without waiting for an answer Basil moved into the family room and took a seat on the sofa. He crossed one leg over the other as he waited for her to join him. Amina followed behind him, the phone still in her hand. She paused in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

  “We need to talk about Rasheeda.”

  Her eyes widened with trepidation. “Is she okay?”

  “She will be as long as you do what I need you to do.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I told you, Amina, I need that Beale Street property.”

  “I don’t care what you told me, Basil. I’m not having any part of that sham.”

  Something in Basil’s stare made her take a step back, prepared to flee if he came at her. She took a deep breath.

  Basil nodded, his gaze flitting back and forth as he leaned back against the cushions. She could see him relax, the tension in his body fading ever so slightly. He took another breath, then lifted his eyes back to hers. “Father was hurt by what you did, Amina. You disappointed him and you disgraced our family name. This marriage to Troy Elliott is a travesty and you need to repair the harm you’ve done before it’s too late. Unfortunately, Rasheeda is having to pay the price for your disrespect.”

  “What have you done to Rasheeda, Basil?”

  “Nothing. Yet. And as long as you do what I tell you to do Rasheeda will continue to enjoy a very blessed life. She will be a dutiful wife and mother and have much given to her.”

  “I want to talk to her.”

  “Soon.”

  “I want to speak with her now, Basil, or I’m not going to entertain this conversation for one minute more.”

  Basil shifted forward in his seat. Still holding tight to the house phone Amina cut her eyes toward the kitchen counter and crossed to where her cell phone was resting. She dialed her sister’s number from the mobile device. Seconds later the cell phone in Basil’s pocket vibrated loudly, Rasheeda’s ringtone echoing through the room. Basil shook his head, a sardonic grin across his face.

  As she depressed the phone’s off button Amina blew a deep sigh, frustration tensing her muscles as her brother’s mocking expression taunted her. He pulled the phone from his pocket and dialed a number. A minute later someone answered on the other end.

  “Put her on,” Basil commanded. He set the phone on the coffee table and pushed it toward Amina. He sat back in his seat and gestured for her to pick it up.

  Still holding on to the house phone Amina eased in his direction. When she reached the edge of the table she snatched the other device from where it rested and took ten steps back before pulling it to her ear. Her eyes were still locked on her brother.

  “Hello?”

  “Amina?” Rasheeda’s voice rang on the other end.

  Amina could hear the tears in her sister’s voice. “Rasheeda, where are you? Are you okay?”

  “Please, Amina,” Rasheeda started before the phone was snatched from her hands and the call disconnected.

  Amina frantically depressed the redial button but no one answered when it rang. She flung the phone in Basil’s direction, the man’s malevolent laugh moving her heart to race.

  “What are you doing, Basil?” she shouted. “She’s our sister!”

  He stood up abruptly. “I’m doing what I have to,” he snarled. “And all of this can be done and finished if you do what I tell you to do,” he said, enunciating each word slowly. “I’m going to leave some papers with you, Amina. And you are going to go down to the courthouse and file them with the clerk’s office. That’s all you have to do. Once that’s done I’ll make sure you and Rasheeda have a wonderful reunion. I’ll even make sure Father changes his mind about the two of you spending time together. That is, of course, if her new husband permits it.”

  “What new husband?”

  Basil cackled a second time. “See how much you’re missing out on, Amina. Your baby sister is marrying a man of great faith, a man our father approves of. He’s a good and honorable brother and you aren’t there to support her. Such a shame!”

  Basil moved toward her and Amina felt herself tense. Like one of two boxers squaring off she widened her stance and shifted her weight, preparing herself to fend off whatever he might throw at her. As he reached her side he paused, pulling a legal-size envelope from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He held it out to her and waited for her to take the mailer from his hand. “File the papers, Amina. I wouldn’t want to see Rasheeda hurt any more than she has been. And you don’t want to be responsible for anything else that might happen to her.”

  Amina stiffened as Basil leaned and kissed her cheek. He pressed his mouth close to her ear, his breath repulsive against her skin. “Don’t you dare breathe a word of this to Father, Amina. You will regret it if you do,” he said, his voice low and composed.

  She took a breath and held it. Basil smiled. From his nonchalant expression you would have thought he was sharing news of some award-winning event with her. He made the little hairs on the back of her neck rise.

  “You might want to keep your new husband in
the dark about this as well. It would be bad for his health for him to know, Amina. This is family business. Salman . . . family . . . business. Besides, something like this might not be good for his political career. I’d hate to see it ruin his chances for election.”

  He took two steps toward the door and stopped. “And congratulations. It looks like you’ve done very well for yourself,” he said, taking one last glance around her home.

  Then without saying another word he moved back into the foyer and out the front door. Racing behind him Amina engaged the lock and the alarm, ensuring the door was tightly secured. Sinking to the marble floor she gasped for air, suddenly feeling like she couldn’t breathe. She fought back tears, wanting to cry. Instead, she dialed the phone in her hand and waited for her father to answer the line.

  Amina tilted her face into the spray of hot water, allowing the shower to rain down over her head. Moisture saturated her thick curls until the fullness lay flat against her scalp, the length reaching toward her waist. Her tears finally mixed with the water flow as the shower wet her skin.

  Her father had refused to entertain the idea of Basil harming Rasheeda. To hear him tell it, Basil could do nothing wrong, having always been a model son. He had assured her that all was well with Rasheeda, his baby girl happy and healthy. According to Nasser he personally had his eye on the young woman and there was nothing out of sync in his home. Nothing Amina said had convinced her father that things were not as they seemed; the man rejecting everything she claimed.

  When she had asked to speak with her sister, Nasser had told her no. Amina was still persona non grata in his home. He earnestly believed that she was a greater threat to Rasheeda than anyone else ever could be. The absurdity of the situation ignited the tears that burned behind her eyelids. Amina knew her brother was dangerous and she couldn’t begin to figure out how to protect them all.

  She had thought to call Troy right after Basil had left the house, managing to partially dial his number three or four times. And each time she’d dialed she’d changed her mind, disconnecting the call. She didn’t want Troy to worry and she didn’t want Troy to do something they would both regret. She knew her husband was still unhinged about Basil putting his hands on her before. This would send him over the edge and she couldn’t let that happen.