Southern Love

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Southern Love Page 2

by Synithia Williams

“Keep planning. You’ll end up drowning in a tidal wave of lust,” Carol teased before turning serious. “Look, I know the situations with Robert and Chad were messed up, but don’t settle. Rodrick put me through shit, but I wasn’t afraid to open my heart when I met Greg, and I still can’t believe my luck. Don’t kid yourself into thinking Brad’s Mr. Perfect.”

  “I’m smarter than that. I know Brad isn’t perfect, but he is perfect for me.” She glanced at her watch. “Look, I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”

  She got into her car, turned on the ignition and sped out of the parking lot without looking back. She knew her friend meant well, but they were two different people. She scoffed at Carol’s reference to her ex Rodrick. That fool was crazy, and Brad was ten times the man Rodrick was. Her decision to marry Brad, stomach queasiness aside, was the right decision. She’d let passion rule her life twice before and had nothing to show for it but a broken heart. No matter what Carol thought, making plans for what she wanted — marrying Brad — made better sense than waiting for some guy to come sweep her off her feet.

  Chapter 2

  As Kenyatta walked from the parking garage into her office building, a sense of calm infused her. Work was the one place where she was in control. Here she was levelheaded and capable of tackling any problem. She wasn’t plagued with doubts about her life when she was working, unlike her personal life, which had often caused her to feel out of balance and unsure. After three years at H2O Environmental, she felt she was making a difference. She relished the challenge of being a woman of color in a field controlled by men. With every successfully completed project, she took pleasure in the congratulations — and sometimes envy — from her male counterparts.

  Entering the office was like walking into a second home. She knew where everyone would be and what they’d be doing each day. There were the usual guys hanging at the water cooler procrastinating after lunch. Mr. Summers, the office manager, would come out and ask for a status update on projects if they stood there for more than twenty minutes. She passed the offices of the stressed-out few who thought their world would end if they didn’t pretend to be working every second. She smiled to herself. She didn’t have to stress — her projects were always on time, on target, and within budget so she didn’t have to appear busy to make herself look good. A few folks tried to stop her as she walked by, but she waved off their attempts to chat since she was running late.

  When she entered Malcolm’s office, he was on the telephone. He waved her in to sit down when he saw her at the door. Carol was right: Malcolm Patterson was fine. Her gaze traveled over the angular lines of his face, the thick lashes framing chocolate eyes, his wide nose and full lips accented by a perfectly trimmed goatee. He was sexual temptation in a six-foot-three-inch package, but it was more than that. He had confidence that border-lined on arrogance at times, and a presence that automatically drew attention. He was never cocky but didn’t hesitate to let you know what he thought or when he was right.

  Men like Malcolm were trouble. In the past, she had played the fool for a man with that same combination of good looks and swagger. She was proud of her ability to pretend as if he were no different from any other man she knew, instead of fawning over him as other women often did. Not that he ever noticed or cared. How would he react if he knew that just a whiff of his cologne caused her nipples to harden? Stop it right now; she gave herself a mental set down. Remember past mistakes.

  When Malcolm hung up, he turned to Kenyatta and looked at his watch. “You’re late.”

  “It won’t happen again.” She said.

  He nodded. She could tell by the admiration in his eyes that he appreciated her admitting she was late without offering an excuse. “I want to ask you something. Come over and look at these plans.”

  He stood and walked over to a set of engineering plans on the table in his office. Kenyatta followed and stood beside him. She was immediately aware of the spicy scent of his cologne and the heat of his body. Her nipples hardened in their usual reaction to his nearness. She gave a mental shake of her head and took a few steps away from him. Oblivious to her discomfort, Malcolm pointed to the plans. They were a preliminary design of a series of ponds to clean the runoff from a commercial area before it entered a protected wetland.

  “Jeremy turned this over to me earlier today but had to leave before I could go over it with him. I know you’re helping with the project, and I had a few questions about the pipe sizing and the location you chose for the outlet.”

  “Sure, what did you want to know?”

  “Why did you change the original design?” His question wasn’t accusing, only curious.

  For the next few minutes, Kenyatta explained why they chose a smaller pipe than previously discussed and why they’d changed the outlet design to prevent erosion into the wetland. She moved to the other side of the table and leaned over so she could point out a detail. When she finished explaining, and Malcolm hadn’t responded, she looked up to see if he understood.

  Instead of looking at the drawings, Malcolm’s gaze was on the V-neck of her top. Kenyatta’s gaze followed his. The neckline of her shirt hung loosely, giving him a perfect view of her breasts in the red silk bra she wore. Embarrassed, she stood up abruptly. When he continued to look at her chest, she glanced down and was mortified to see her nipples protruding through the thin material.

  Her eyes met Malcolm’s, and she forgot to breathe when she saw the raw desire in his gaze. She had never, ever seen him look at her with even the slightest interest before. Instantly desire flooded her body and pooled heavily between her legs.

  Not knowing what to say, she stood there holding his stare. Why was he suddenly looking at her as if she were the most desirable woman on the planet? He’d dated plenty of women, more than Kenyatta wanted to imagine, and she’d never seen that look on his face with any of them. He took a small step in her direction and her heart raced. Would he kiss her? Would she stop him if he did?

  Just as quickly as it arrived, the moment was gone as he cleared his throat and looked away. “Um, yeah … I see why you changed the design. That was a good idea, and it’ll save money during construction.” He abruptly turned and strode to his desk.

  Kenyatta shook off the moment and his brusque change. It was foolish to read too much into his look. “That’s what we thought. Did you need anything else?” Her voice was breathless, and she hated that her reaction to him was so obvious.

  “Actually, I do need to talk with you about something else.” When he faced her, any trace of the earlier desire was gone. She ignored her disappointment.

  “It turns out Jeremy won’t be able to present the work we’ve done in Newberry County at the National Water Quality Association conference in Orlando next week. Since you worked with him on that project, I’d like for you to do the presentation in his place.”

  This time Kenyatta’s heart raced due to excitement. Although she was anxious to get her name out as a leading authority on environmental regulations, it was a daunting task to present at a national conference to a room full of professionals. One of the reasons she loved her job was because she actually made a difference. After projects she worked on were completed, testing showed improvements in water quality almost instantly. It wasn’t curing cancer, but it did make an impact.

  Working with Jeremy in Newberry had been one of her most challenging and rewarding projects. She personally developed the plan, and she had been a key element in working with the county on its implementation. Their efforts resulted in the removal of two waters from the State Impaired Waters list.

  “What happened with Jeremy? Is he okay?” Kenyatta asked, sincerely concerned.

  “He’s physically okay, but his mother passed away. He has to fly to Dallas tonight, and he’s unsure when he’ll be back. I know it’s short notice, but we really need you to do this. You know this project just as well as he,” Malcolm explained
.

  Kenyatta’s brow furrowed. “Not that I don’t appreciate the opportunity, but why aren’t you doing the presentation? You’re the senior project manager.”

  He nodded. “I know, but you know the details. I just stepped in for contract negotiations.” He paused and smiled at her. “Besides, I talked it over with Mr. Summers, and we agree that you’re the better candidate. Are you interested?”

  Kenyatta took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. She knew she would say yes before Malcolm finished speaking. She also knew Malcolm was the reason for this opportunity. He had originally wanted her to present, but Mr. Summers said Jeremy had better presentation skills. She completely disagreed. Mr. Summers just preferred a man representing the company.

  “Yes, of course I’ll do it.” She said, bouncing with excitement.

  Malcolm cleared his throat and looked away quickly as if taken aback by her exuberance, but she didn’t care. This would help her career, and she was excited about the opportunity. He looked at her hands — which she’d clasped in front of her — and the ring on her finger. She suddenly wished she’d taken it off before coming to work. Although she knew her reasons for marrying Brad were statistically solid, she wasn’t ready to tell people about her engagement.

  “I guess congratulations are in order.” He motioned to her left hand.

  She could have sworn there was disappointment in his voice, but she dismissed it. There was no reason for him to have feelings about her engagement, yet she still covered her left hand with her right.

  “It’s more of a promise ring than anything.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t we a bit old for promise rings? Especially one that expensive.”

  “I think it’s sweet.”

  “I think it’s the sign of someone who doesn’t want to make a commitment.”

  She frowned. “Brad does want to make a commitment.”

  “Then why give you a promise ring? What is he, twelve?”

  “It’s not a promise ring, okay? He … asked me to marry him.”

  “So my earlier assumption was right and congratulations are in order.”

  “It’s kind of early for that.”

  “Why? If he asked and you’re wearing the ring, you must have said yes. Unless you’re rethinking your answer.”

  He hit too close to home. She straightened her shoulders. “No, I lo-love Brad and have no reason to change my answer.”

  His eyes bore into hers. “Maybe you’re waiting for someone else.”

  Kenyatta saw lingering flames of the desire from earlier and her heartbeat went into overdrive. He couldn’t possibly think she wanted a chance with him. Or, could he? Feeling foolish for that thought, she shifted from foot to foot, anxious to get out of his office.

  “There isn’t anyone else. What do you care anyway?”

  He blinked and shook his head. “I don’t care. I saw the ring and thought I’d be the first to congratulate you. You’re the one who took us around in circles for no damn reason.”

  Her anger flared at his apparent frustration. “I didn’t take us in circles. I’m crazy happy and in love with Brad.”

  “Then marry him.”

  “I am.”

  “Fine. Congratulations. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a conference call in twenty minutes I need to prepare for.”

  He turned away and she thought he looked like a pouting kid, but that was foolishness. Malcolm Patterson, God’s gift to women, would not be jealous of his employee’s engagement to another man. The man lived the bachelor’s dream and didn’t show signs of slowing down. He’d never shown any interest in her, except for that brief moment a few minutes earlier, so he couldn’t be jealous. She was letting Carol’s warning cause doubts and boost her forbidden crush on her boss. Feeling dismissed as he began typing an e-mail, she turned and walked out of his office without another word.

  Chapter 3

  Kenyatta was engrossed with work at her desk when the telephone rang. She let out an exasperated sigh at the interruption and answered it.

  “This is Kenyatta,” she tried not to let her irritation show through her greeting.

  “Kenyatta, where are you? We’re supposed to be at Mike and Joi’s in an hour,” Brad’s voice came through the phone.

  Kenyatta looked at the clock on her desk. It was after six. “Shit,” she whispered. So much for leaving work on time today.

  She knew Brad was going to be upset. He hated when she didn’t follow their plans to the tee.

  “I’m sorry, Brad, I lost track of time. I’ve been put in charge of Jeremy’s presentation and … ”

  “Sweetie, we can talk about it later,” he cut in. “Just leave the office now and meet me at their house. By the time you come home and change clothes for dinner it will be past eight.”

  Kenyatta imagined him looking at his watch. It was pointless to try to tell him about the conference when he was in a rush.

  She began to organize the various papers on her desk. “Okay, I’m leaving right now and I’ll meet you there. Sorry, work was very crazy today.”

  “Well, work was busy for me also, but I remembered our dinner invitation.”

  “I said I’m sorry and I’m on my way. You’re wasting time keeping me on the phone.” That would get him to shut up.

  He was immediately contrite. “I’m sorry, baby, I just didn’t want to be late. I’ll see you in a few minutes, okay? I love you.”

  Kenyatta sighed again, but accepted his apology. “Me too; I’ll see you soon.”

  She hung up the phone and turned off her computer. She spent a few more minutes getting everything on her desk in order, grabbed her purse from the drawer she locked it in, and left her office. Seeing Malcolm’s office light on, she peeked inside. He was still working at his desk.

  Deciding to forget about their earlier awkwardness, she knocked softly on the door. “I guess I’m not the only one who lost track of time.”

  Malcolm looked up and smiled crookedly. Kenyatta’s heart did an extra flip. Cool it girl. You’re getting married, she thought.

  “Yeah, but I’m wrapping up now. Are you leaving?” He rubbed his eyes and reached for the cup of coffee sitting on his desk. He took a sip, frowned, and put the cup back down.

  “Yes, I’m leaving now. But, I wanted to know if I’ll be able to transfer Jeremy’s reservation to my name? I checked the hotel and all of the conference rooms are booked.”

  Malcolm nodded. “I don’t think that will be a problem. We’ll get Grace to do it tomorrow.” He referred to their receptionist.

  “Good. No offense, but I didn’t want to bunk up with you,” she teased.

  “It might have been fun,” he replied with a raised eyebrow.

  Heat filled her face and she cleared her throat before looking away. “Well, regardless, I’m just glad it’ll be worked out. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Good night, Kenyatta,” his voice was smooth, almost seductive.

  “Good night, Malcolm.” She turned quickly and left his office. He couldn’t be flirting with her. Did he really imply that he would enjoy sharing a room with her? These thoughts plagued her repeatedly as she entered the parking garage and went to her car.

  • • •

  Malcolm swore silently to himself after Kenyatta left his office. What the hell was wrong with him? Giving her the third degree about her engagement earlier — as if he should even care — then using his bedroom voice to tell her good night. He must be losing his mind. Coworkers were off-limits, especially, his sexy-as-hell employee with soft brown eyes, smooth skin and a body that could tempt an angel.

  It had taken every ounce of control in him not to come across his conference room table today and kiss her until she forgot her own name. But she was his employee, and he didn’t mix business and pleasu
re. He’d learned that the hard way.

  He needed a distraction. He picked up his phone and called his younger brother, Jared. If anyone could help him realize a woman wasn’t worth ruining your career over, it was his brother. While Malcolm didn’t have serious commitments because of the demands of his job, Jared did it because he enjoyed women.

  Jared answered after two rings. “What’s up, bro?”

  “Nothing, man, finishing up at work. It’s been a hell of a day, and I need a drink.”

  “Good timing. I’m meeting Devin for happy hour.”

  “What’s Devin doing here? I thought the town of Helena’s only black doctor was too busy to make it into Columbia lately.” Their mutual friend was so busy with his practice he and Jared only saw him for an occasional weekend basketball game.

  Jared laughed. “He had some workshop or seminar at Palmetto Health Richland. I was supposed to call you earlier and tell you to meet us but had an important meeting and forgot. My bad.”

  Malcolm shook his head. “What was her name?”

  Jared laughed. “No lady this time, I really had an appointment. But I can’t hang too late tonight. I have another appointment later.”

  Malcolm knew what type of appointment his brother meant. “That’s cool. I’ll meet y’all in a few. Where are you going?”

  Jared told him the name of the bar and they hung up. Malcolm wrapped up the work on his desk and left the office. As he got into his black hybrid Yukon Denali and drove from Main Street to the Vista, his thoughts returned to Kenyatta.

  Malcolm had wanted her from the moment she’d walked into his office. Mr. Summers had interviewed and hired her while Malcolm was out of town. He hadn’t been prepared for the temptation assigned to work for him. He was a man used to going after what he wanted, and he’d wanted her with an urgency he’d never felt before. His reaction surprised him. Not that he found her attractive, but by how much. He figured it was so intense because she was off-limits, and he wasn’t used to denying himself what he wanted. It was easier to treat her like a stranger than flirt with her as he did most women. It would be too easy to forget his boundaries.

 

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