This Time for Real (Kimani Romance)

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This Time for Real (Kimani Romance) Page 5

by Yahrah St. John


  Theresa smiled knowingly. The professor had come in person to get information she could have researched on the Internet or gotten via the phone. Peyton Sawyer was definitely interested in Malik, and Theresa was going to stoke the flame. “Sure. Let me get him for you. He’s just finishing up a phone call.”

  Malik was completely caught off guard when Theresa told him that Peyton Sawyer was in the lobby waiting for him. He quickly checked his appearance in the mirror before coming out.

  She stood when he arrived, allowing him to lazily appraise her toned athletic legs extending from her straight black skirt, which she’d accompanied with a black-and-white polka dot, silk shirt and a single strand of pearls. She looked like the cherry on top of a sundae and he wanted to gobble her up. “Peyton, it’s good to see you.”

  There was a tingle in the pit of her stomach as he said her name. “You too,” Peyton managed to say. His nearness was making her senses spin.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked.

  Having Malik stare at her intensely with those dark brown eyes caused Peyton to get tongue-tied. “Well, I…I came to see if I couldn’t tempt you with some sushi. As I recall, you know a great place.”

  “Are you asking me out on a date?” Malik queried.

  “It’s not really a date,” Peyton lied. “I need your professional advice, and I just thought it might be easier to discuss over dinner.”

  “Oh really?”

  Malik grinned, and when he did Peyton could see he had dimples. Why hadn’t she noticed that before? “Yes, really.”

  “If you say so,” Malik replied. She’d come all this way for him. “But in answer to your question, yes, I would love to go out for sushi. Just let me get my jacket.”

  “All right.” Peyton turned away as he left and tried to collect herself. Her heart was thumping so loudly in her chest; Peyton swore the receptionist could hear it.

  Malik returned with his suit jacket over his arm. “Ready?”

  “Yes.” Peyton didn’t mind it one bit when Malik placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her out the door. She liked a man who took charge.

  Malik hailed a cab with ease, and soon they were seated and on their way to Hatsuhana on Forty-eighth Street. When the host wanted to seat them at a table Peyton balked. “Can we sit at the bar?” She’d noticed two open seats in front of the chefs. “I love to watch the chef’s showmanship.”

  “Absolutely.” The host sat them at the bar.

  Malik pulled out a bar stool and slid it underneath her before sitting next to her.

  “Doesn’t the fresh fish look great?” The displays housed fresh tuna, salmon, yellowtail, whitefish, shrimp and a lot else Peyton didn’t recognize, but she made polite conversation to avoid the elephant in the room.

  “I’m flattered by your dinner offer.” Malik perused the menu, even though he already knew what he wanted. He always ordered the tuna and California rolls.

  “I admit we got off to a shaky start, but this dinner really was about helping a student,” she said, glancing sideways at him.

  “You don’t need an excuse to ask me out.” Malik turned and faced her. “I like you, Peyton. And I’d like to know you even better. Don’t you want the same?”

  “I am not afraid of you, Malik, if that’s what you’re implying,” Peyton replied. “I’m just treading lightly.”

  “Ah, there’s more you’re not saying,” Malik deduced, rubbing his jaw. When she tried to speak, he placed an index finger on her lips. “And you don’t have to tell me. There’s no pressure here, Peyton. When you’re ready I’ll listen.” Whatever she was holding back was big. Malik just hoped that in time she would feel like she could trust him. “So, what are you having?” he asked, changing the subject.

  Her lips tingled from his touch. “Thank you.” Peyton smiled. “And I think I’ll have the tempura-battered fish and veggies.” After they’d placed their order, Peyton brought up Kendra’s situation. “My student is monetarily dependent upon her boyfriend, who resents that she’s in school. Since I’m new to the area, I was hoping you might know of some assistance programs?”

  “First off, she should start with the New York Department of Family Assistance and their OTDA department,” Malik said with authority.

  “What does that stand for?”

  “The Office of Temporary and Disability Assistance,” Malik informed her. “She can apply for food stamps and even go after child support if she wants.”

  “What about financial assistance?” Peyton inquired.

  “They can provide that too, under their temporary assistance program, for up to sixty months. So there’s a lot of help out there, if she’s willing to go after it.”

  “Thank you so much, Malik.” Peyton patted his knee. “I’ll be sure and pass the info on to my student.”

  “You’re welcome.” Malik placed his large hand over hers. When she didn’t quickly move it away, Malik knew they’d crossed a bridge and he had a real shot at getting better acquainted. He liked that she was so caring and sympathetic to those less fortunate. It was rare that he found someone that shared his passion for helping others. He supposed that’s why he was so attracted to Peyton because she was beautiful on the inside and out.

  “What about you? How was your day?” Peyton asked. “It must be something big, with the suit and all. I didn’t think that was really your style, though you do wear it well.” The suit fit his well-muscled body to perfection.

  So she’d noticed, had she? Malik grinned. “Thank you, and you would be right in your assumption. I had a lunch appointment, but it didn’t go as I envisioned.”

  “Why? What happened?” Peyton realized she sounded nosy, then added, “If you don’t mind my asking.”

  “I’m looking for a corporate sponsor for the center.”

  “Is it in trouble?”

  “No, but it could use some repair and renovation. Unfortunately, Children’s Aid Network has to spread the funds around to so many centers that we don’t always get what we need, when we need it. And today, I thought that would change. My friend Quentin, who you met the other night, set up a meeting with a potential corporate sponsor.”

  “And?”

  “It turned out to be the very same man who a few short months ago wanted to tear us down to build multimillion-dollar condos and a mediaplex.” Malik released a deep breath.

  Peyton stared as if waiting for a better explanation. “I’m sorry. And the problem is—?”

  “He’s the man that tried to destroy this community.”

  “But if he’s had a change of heart—” Peyton bunched her shoulders “—I don’t see why not. So what if he sponsors the renovation to clear his guilty conscience? Either way, it’s a win-win for him, as well as for the center. Don’t you need the funds?”

  “We do, but at what cost?” Malik asked. He had too much pride to accept a dime from Richard King.

  “I guess only you can answer that,” Peyton replied. “But if you want my advice, such as it is, I say go for it. And if you need help, I’ll be there in whatever capacity you need.”

  Malik considered her words. He may have to rethink his position. Plus, Peyton was volunteering, even though she had no idea what that might entail. “Thanks, Peyton, I appreciate it. Now, can we stop talking shop?”

  “That sounds like a good idea.” Their conversation turned to other topics, and when their food arrived they washed the succulent vegetables and fresh fish down with plum wine, leaving Peyton feeling languid and more relaxed than she’d felt in years. Whenever she was around Malik, he had that effect on her. He made her want to forget the past and embrace the present.

  When she finally glanced at her watch, Peyton realized the hour. She had a 10 a.m. class that she needed to prepare for, but she didn’t want the night to be over. “As much as I’d love to stay…” Peyton began.

  “It’s time we left,” Malik finished.

  “Afraid so.”

  Malik quickly settled the bill, muc
h to Peyton’s chagrin. She’d asked him out and was prepared to pay for the meal, but he’d refused.

  “Thanks for the dinner,” Peyton said when the cab dropped her off in front of her Brooklyn brownstone a short while later.

  “You’re welcome,” Malik said, hopping out. “Keep the meter running,” he told the cab driver, and followed her up the steps to her door.

  Peyton wasn’t sure what to do. This was one of those awkward moments at the end of a date, so she said, “I had a lovely evening,” and leaned in for a hug and a quick peck, but Malik turned his head so that her kiss landed on his lips instead of cheek.

  Peyton was stunned at first, she hadn’t expected that, but she didn’t protest, either. The caress of his lips on her mouth set her aflame with desire. And when Malik took it a step further and deepened the kiss, invading her mouth with his tongue, Peyton moaned.

  As the kiss became more passionate, Malik folded Peyton in his arms and pulled her firmly to him. He loved the taste of her and the feel of her breasts against his chest. His pulse raced as his hands dipped and settled firmly on her hips. Malik felt the hardness in his pants press up against Peyton. Carried away by his own response, he didn’t even notice Peyton resisting—until she had pushed him away.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t…” Peyton’s voice caught in her throat as mixed feelings surged through her. “I can’t do this.” Peyton opened her front door as fast as she could and bolted inside.

  Malik was puzzled by the change in mood. What had he done wrong? Had he misread her response? He didn’t think so. She’d kissed him back. He liked Peyton more than any other woman he could remember, and hoped he hadn’t ruined one of the best things to come his way in a long time.

  Chapter 4

  Peyton stood in front of her window on Wednesday morning and wondered what had gotten into to her. Why had she asked Malik to dinner? And how could she have let him kiss her? Peyton didn’t know what upset her more, the fact that she should feel guilty and didn’t, or that she’d enjoyed Malik’s kisses. Here it was days after their passionate encounter, and she could still feel his lips on hers. Peyton rubbed her arms to stop goose bumps from forming.

  When Amber stopped by her office with Starbucks cups in hand, Peyton motioned her in. She was dying to confide in her.

  “You look deep in thought. Is something wrong?” Amber inquired, handing her a caffe latte.

  “Thank you.” Peyton accepted the drink. “And in answer to your question, plenty.” Peyton walked back around to her chair.

  “Well, fill me in.” Amber sat down.

  “I innocently asked Malik out the other night for dinner.” Peyton took a sip of her coffee.

  “Your honor, notice the word ‘innocent,’” Amber said, acting as if Peyton were on the witness stand.

  Peyton rolled her eyes and continued. “I asked him out to discuss Kendra’s situation.”

  “And?”

  “We had a lovely evening,” Peyton responded. “He gave me some advice on programs for single mothers and then, like a gentleman, he escorted me home and walked me to my door. And then he kissed me.”

  “How was it?” Amber asked excitedly, placing her Starbucks cup on Peyton’s maple desk and leaning forward.

  Peyton opened her desk drawer and handed Amber a coaster. “It was wonderful and sweet and passionate, but then I bolted.”

  “Why in heavens would you do that?” Amber asked. “From the dreamy expression on your face when you described his kiss, you must have enjoyed it.”

  “Because things were moving too fast,” Peyton replied. “You just don’t understand, Amber.”

  “Yes I do,” Amber replied. “And the first thing I know is that you need to stop thinking with your head and start feeling with your heart. Malik’s a sexy guy, and he’s made it clear from day one that he liked you. And it’s obvious you like him, so why deny yourself? Run with it.”

  “It’s not that simple,” Peyton responded and turned towards the window.

  “Explain it to me.”

  Peyton doubted Amber would understand. For as long as she’d known her, she’d always had a different man on her arm.

  “I’m waiting….”

  Peyton paused before finally speaking. “I’m afraid, okay?” She wiped a tear way with the back of her hand.

  “Oh, Peyton.” Amber jumped up and gave Peyton a hug. She was surprised that her friend, a tough-as-nails professor, feared anything. “What are you afraid of?”

  “I haven’t felt such a strong connection with any man since David died,” she confessed. “My attraction to Malik scares me. You see, I have only been with one man.”

  “You mean sexually?” Amber asked.

  “Of course I mean sexually,” Peyton responded, pulling away. “David was my first and only lover.” Peyton felt completely insecure in the sex department. She was a novice compared to most women these days. It’s not like she and David hadn’t experimented. He’d just been traditional when it came to their lovemaking. He’d always been the first to initiate sex and she’d followed his lead.

  “Well, now I understand, but you shouldn’t sweat it. It’s like riding a bike. It all comes back to you.”

  Peyton smiled. “Easier said than done.”

  Amber touched Peyton’s cheek. “Don’t doubt yourself. You are a strong and sexy woman, Peyton. What you’ve endured would have broken many a person. I was one of the naysayers who thought you’d never get over David’s death, but look at you, you’re stronger than ever. Don’t let fear hold you back, honey. Otherwise you might miss out on something really special.”

  As Peyton finished her afternoon lectures, Amber’s words stayed with her. Peyton just wondered if she had the courage to move forward.

  Malik sighed as the members of the Children’s Aid Network Community Advisory Board dispersed from the conference room the following afternoon. He’d been unsuccessful in convincing them to give the Harlem center additional funds. The only good thing was that a reporter for Manhattan Weekly had come that morning and interviewed him. The story would run in next week’s paper.

  “How did it go?” Theresa asked enthusiastically, as she swung open the conference door.

  “Don’t ask,” Malik said, slamming the folder shut.

  Maybe next year or the next, they’d said. But the center couldn’t wait that long. If he had the money, he could have the place painted and the floors done in a matter of weeks. Of course, the kitchen renovation would take a little longer. And then there was the computer center. With technology constantly changing, their equipment was outdated.

  “They turned you down again?” Theresa asked.

  “Afraid so. But then again, it wouldn’t be the first time,” Malik replied.

  Several days ago, he’d sent a beautiful woman scurrying away, and he hadn’t seen or heard a word from her in days. Her application had been approved and her background check came back clean, so there was no reason Peyton couldn’t start volunteering immediately. Yet, the lovely professor still hadn’t shown her face, and he had no one to blame but himself.

  “Did something else happen?” Theresa was curious about Malik’s comment.

  “Nothing that I care to expound upon,” Malik replied.

  Theresa thought about pressing him for more information, but she could see that he was in one of his brooding moods. She remembered he used to have them as a youngster and she’d wondered what caused them. But he’d never talked about it. Malik had a tendency to be a loner at times. “All right, if you want to talk I’m here.”

  “Thanks, Theresa.”

  After he finished hiring a new doctor for the clinic staff, Malik closed up shop at the center and headed over to Dante’s. He was meeting the guys for drinks and some much-needed advice. No offense to Sage, but he’d hadn’t asked her to come along. He did have his pride, after all. And this was man’s business.

  “Malik.” Dante smiled when he came in, but then, when he saw the sour expression on his friend’s fa
ce, he changed course. “Don’t tell me,’ cause I already know. A woman’s got you down?”

  “How’d you know?” Malik asked.

  “What’s the cause of most of our troubles?”

  “Women!”

  “Enough said,” Dante replied, then went behind the bar and popped open a bottle of beer. He slid it across the countertop towards Malik.

  “Thanks, man.”

  Quentin came in several minutes later and joined them. “Hey, Malik.” Quentin sat down next to his stubborn friend. He hadn’t heard from him since he’d invited Malik to lunch to meet Richard. Quentin could only assume that Malik was upset with him and had been giving him the silent treatment as he’d done a couple of months ago.

  “Q,” Malik said, nodding. “What’s up?”

  “You tell me,” Quentin responded, rubbing his goatee. “A brother hasn’t heard from you in days.”

  Malik shrugged. “Now c’mon, Q. You had to know that I wouldn’t accept a penny from Richard King.” Malik tipped back his bottle of beer and took a generous swig.

  “So this was your way of punishing me?” Quentin sighed. Malik’s temper was getting old. “I thought we’d gotten past this childishness, Malik.”

  “And we have,” Malik replied, turning to Quentin. “The world does not revolve around you, Q. I do have other things on my mind.”

  An O formed on Quentin’s lips. He hadn’t thought about that.

  “This brother is down and out about that professor at NYU,” Dante offered.

  “Oh, yeah.” Quentin remembered the leggy mahogany babe that had caught Malik’s eye. “She was pretty hot. So what happened?”

  “I screwed it up,” Malik replied and swigged his beer. “Came on too strong.”

  “But you can correct that,” Quentin responded. “You know, tone down your enthusiasm.”

  “You didn’t see her run in the opposite direction.” Malik dragged his long, narrow fingers through his dreads.

  “It’s not too late,” Dante said. “Isn’t she going to be volunteering at the center?”

 

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