“What about the floors?” Quentin asked, sitting down on the last step of the gymnasium bleachers. The entire reception and administrative office floors were ripped up.
“The carpet and tile will be done over the weekend. And then they’ll touch up painting, once we’re all moved back in.”
“Sounds like everything is going swimmingly,” Quentin replied, rubbing his goatee.
Malik wished he could say the same about every facet of his life. He hadn’t spoken with Peyton since she’d left his apartment in the middle of the night. Half a dozen times he’d picked up the phone to call her, but what could he say? She wanted more than he could give.
“And Peyton?” Quentin asked.
Malik rose from his seat and climbed up to the top of the bleachers to keep people from listening to his private business. Quentin followed and sat down next to him.
“Did you guys have a fight?” Quentin queried.
“We’re taking a break,” Malik replied. “Peyton’s been pressuring me into talking about my past, and then wanting me to meet her folks. And she accused me of not letting her in, of being closed off emotionally.”
Quentin nodded in agreement.
“You think she’s right?”
“Yes, I do,” Quentin stated emphatically. “You don’t let many people in, Malik.”
Malik’s throat began to tighten. “Why can’t I leave the past in the past? Why do I have to dredge up all those painful memories?”
“Because maybe, just maybe, it’s time you finally started talking about it.”
Malik shook his head. “I’m just not cut out for all this relationship drama like you are, Quentin.”
“I think you’re doing yourself and Peyton a disservice,” Quentin responded, “if you don’t see where this leads…” It was time Malik stopped running and faced his past. “I remember how hard it was for Dante and me to connect with you when we were kids. You were angry and you didn’t trust anyone. But eventually, in time you let us in. But that was different. We were your boys and we had each other’s backs then, but we’re not your girlfriend.”
“That’s certainly true.” Malik laughed.
“I know that might be hard for you to admit,” Quentin said. “It was just as hard for me to admit that Avery was the one. But you’ve never been with a woman for this long. There has to be something more there.”
“Such as?”
“Love. Have you ever considered that you’ve fallen for Peyton, which is why it’s so hard for you to open up?”
Malik’s brow furrowed. “Love, no. It’s definitely not that. I care for Peyton, but I don’t think I even know what love is.” Outside of his love for Quentin, Sage and Dante, Malik hadn’t known love.
“Ah, Malik, my friend,” Quentin wrapped his arm around Malik’s shoulder, “you’re in deep denial. That’s why I know you’ve got it bad.”
“If you say so.”
“I do,” Quentin replied, because he saw it in Malik’s eyes; he was in love with Peyton.
“Oh, Peyton, your place is fantastic,” her mother stated when she walked into her daughter’s apartment on Thursday morning. “The hardwood floors, the big windows that give plenty of light. It’s really quite a find, my dear.”
“If you discount that it’s in Brooklyn and my job is in Midtown Manhattan,” Peyton replied, “then yes, it’s great.” She’d tried to maintain a cheery outlook, even though she felt bleak. She hadn’t the heart to tell her parents or Jude about her breakup with Malik.
“But the amount of space you get, honey, is priceless,” her father commented.
Peyton smiled. Her parents looked no different than they had a few months before when she’d left Cleveland. Her mother was just as beautiful as ever, with salt-and-pepper hair and a smooth complexion. Her father was equally handsome in Peyton’s eyes. Listening to her father’s rendition of “My Funny Valentine” on his saxophone was enough to bring anyone to tears.
“It’s a good thing you’re staying here,” Jude said, bringing the suitcases into the apartment. “My studio is no bigger than this living room, and I pay a mint. But it’s close to the action.”
Lydia smiled. “We wouldn’t expect any less of you, Jude. You know your father and I are dying to see your play later this evening.” She’d finally accepted that her baby boy was an actor. If he was happy, that was all that mattered to her.
“But first I’m going to show you all around Manhattan, and then later we’ll come back and change before Jude’s play,” Peyton said.
“Sounds great,” her parents replied in unison.
“Well, I have to get to rehearsal.” Jude kissed his mother’s cheek and hugged his father. “Thanks for brunch. I’ll see you all tonight.” He waved and was out the door.
Peyton spent the afternoon showing her parents the sights of the Big Apple: the Empire State Building, Rockefeller Center and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Afterwards, they enjoyed a prix fixe three-course dinner in Times Square before seeing Jude’s show. Her parents hadn’t mentioned Malik, which was a good thing; but the next morning Peyton’s luck ran out.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” her mother said, entering the kitchen as she rubbed sleep from her eyes. She kissed Peyton on the cheek. “Mmm, the coffee smells great.”
“It’s hazelnut. How’d you sleep?”
“Wonderful,” her mother said, grabbing one of the cups Peyton had set out and pouring herself some coffee.
“I hope you don’t mind sitting in on my class today.” Peyton flipped over the ham-and-cheese omelets she was preparing on the gas stove. “I have one later this afternoon.”
“Of course not, darling,” her mother said. “I’d love to see you in action.”
“Good. Then I can show you NYU’s campus.”
“And does our day include a stop at the community center?” her mother asked. “I’m dying to meet your beau, Malik.”
“Umm, I’m not sure about that.” Peyton kept her back to her mother. She busied herself finishing her parents’ omelets, then began making one for herself. “He’s really busy right now, remodeling the center.”
“Oh, that doesn’t matter.” Her mother came behind her, rubbing her back. “I don’t mind roughing it. It’s not like you and I haven’t done it before, like when we helped Habitat for Humanity.”
Peyton sighed. There was no way she was going to get around it; after she’d raved about Malik, her parents wanted to meet him. “Why don’t we see how the day goes?” Peyton didn’t turn around when she spoke.
“And how are my ladies this fine morning?” Her father came into the kitchen looking clean and fresh in a polo shirt and pressed khaki pants.
“Oh, we’re just fine,” Peyton answered. She slid her omelet onto a plate and put two slices of bread in the toaster.
“We’re sitting in on one of Peyton’s classes, and then we’ll be meeting her new beau,” her mother gushed.
“Hmm, sounds good to me.” Her father headed straight for the coffee and poured himself a cup.
After breakfast the morning flew by. Her parents attended her afternoon lecture and toured the campus. While they took a break at Washington Square Park, her mother inquired, “Is now a good time to stop by the center?”
Peyton had dreaded this moment since they’d arrived, but she had no choice, she had to play along. She’d gotten herself into this mess, but how in hell was she going to get herself out of it? “Of course.”
Peyton entered the Harlem Community Center with trepidation. She hadn’t seen Malik since she’d walked out on him, and he hadn’t called her either. How would he react to their showing up unannounced? Would he come out and meet her parents? If not, she would have a lot of explaining to do.
“This is it,” she said, swinging open the front door.
Peyton found the reception area completely redone. The floors had been stripped of the tattered, worn carpet and replaced with multicolored Berber carpeting that could easily hide stains. The walls had been
repainted in a warm tan color, far from the original faded antique white. New upholstered chairs, classy lamps and sleek brown coffee tables were sprinkled throughout.
“Looks like the remodeling is coming along nicely,” her mother commented as she and Peyton’s father came in behind her.
Peyton introduced her parents to Loretta. “Hi, Loretta, is Malik in his office?
“If you want to call the gymnasium his office, then yes,” Loretta responded. “Go on back, Peyton.”
They stepped around the carpenter that was inside the hallway gluing down the carpet, and headed to the gymnasium. She found Malik, Theresa and several other staff members in the gym. He looked as handsome as ever in jeans and a T-shirt. As soon as he saw her, he rose from his chair and walked towards them.
“Malik Williams, this is my mom and dad, Lydia and Ron Allen,” Peyton said. She was shocked speechless when he pulled her into an embrace and lightly brushed his lips across hers. Peyton was momentarily taken aback and stared up at him.
“Hey.” Malik smiled down at Peyton to reassure her, gazing into her eyes. He could see the anxiety lying in those brown depths. It was obvious she hadn’t had a chance to tell her parents about their breakup. Being this close to her reminded Malik just how much he missed her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Allen.” He extended his hand to Peyton’s father.
Her father returned his handshake and said, “You too. We’ve heard a lot about you. And might I say, this is quite an operation you have, son.”
Malik nodded in agreement. “You have no idea. Has Peyton shown you around?” he asked, lightly touching the center of her back.
Peyton wasn’t sure what to make of Malik’s behavior. Isn’t that what she wanted him to do? So why did it disturb her how easily he could fall into the boyfriend role? Had he been acting with her too?
“No, not yet,” Peyton said, turning to Malik. She tried to read his face, but couldn’t.
“Why don’t I give you a tour of the facilities?” Malik walked them towards the exit. “There’s a lot to see.”
Malik showed Peyton and her parents the Olympic-size swimming pool and pointed out the adjacent, remodeled locker room, the computer and game rooms, and then brought them to the kitchen.
“It’s not much,” Malik commented. “But as soon as we get the permits we’ll be knocking out that wall—” he pointed to the back wall “—and expanding it to accommodate more people. We’ll also be adding a food pantry.”
“Not many centers have one.” Lydia Allen didn’t miss a beat.
“I know, which is why I wanted one,” Malik replied. “It’ll be small and run during the evening by volunteers who take donations.”
“I’m impressed.” Her mother smiled.
“Let me show you our true gem,” Malik replied. He walked them outside and over to the separate entrance for the free clinic attached to the center.
“A health clinic?” Lydia sounded surprised.
Malik nodded. “That’s right, and it’s free.” He opened the door and allowed them to precede him. The clinic’s reception area was half full of patients waiting to be seen. Malik waved to the receptionist.
“This is wonderful, Malik,” Peyton’s mother gushed.
“We’re very happy to provide health care for those who can’t afford health insurance. And we couldn’t do it without the doctors who generously donate their time and services.”
“I can’t believe you’re the director of this entire operation.”
“And several centers in Manhattan,” Peyton added. She was proud of the work he did.
“Malik, can you join us for dinner tonight?” her father asked. “My treat.”
“I’m sure Malik is busy, Dad.” Peyton wasn’t sure she could share a meal with him with all this politeness between them.
“It’s no problem,” Malik replied. “I’d love to come, Mr. and Mrs. Allen.” Malik turned to Peyton. “Why don’t we go to Sylvia’s, here in Harlem? They’ve got great soul food.”
“That sounds great.” Her father rubbed his belly. “I could use some down-home cooking.”
“I have to finish up here first. Can I meet you there in about an hour?”
“Sure,” Peyton said, then added, “I’m sure you have a lot to do.” She needed to get away from Malik for her own peace of mind. “Mom, Dad, there’s a bookstore nearby where we can kill some time.”
“Lead the way,” her mother replied.
Before Malik walked back inside, he pulled Peyton to him and kissed her again. It was unexpected and brought the same fire to Peyton’s belly as all his other kisses. How is it he could still get her all hot and bothered, when she was so angry with him?
“I can see why you’re head over heels,” her mother said as he departed. “He’s a dreamboat.” Her mother patted Peyton on the back.
Peyton shrugged. If she only knew.
Dinner was filled with an uneasy tension, as Malik sat next to Peyton, playing the role of dutiful boyfriend. Although she appreciated the effort, she knew he was only doing it for her parents’ benefit. He didn’t mean any of it. He was ready to toss her out like yesterday’s trash.
As they sat enjoying their peach cobbler and vanilla ice cream, her mother homed in on Malik and finally got personal. “Malik, so tell us about yourself. We’ve been talking about ourselves way too much.”
Malik bunched his shoulders and reached for his water glass. “There’s not much to tell, Mrs. Allen. Along with several of my close friends, I grew up in an orphanage. After that, I went to NYU and went on to get my MBA.”
Peyton noticed how cryptic Malik was about his childhood, but her parents didn’t seem to catch on.
“You had to overcome quite a lot at an early age,” her mother stated. “And yet, look at what you’ve done with yourself. I’m sure that’s what my daughter sees in you.” Her mother nudged Peyton knowingly. “She’s done nothing but rave about you for weeks. Could we be hearing wedding bells sometime soon?” her mother asked, teasingly.
Peyton lowered her head. She wished she could crawl under the table and die of embarrassment.
“Well, uh, I…” Malik stuttered. “Mrs. Allen, really…we’re nowhere near that yet.”
Lydia Allen glanced at her daughter and then back to Malik. Her daughter had a strained expression, while Malik looked as if he was ready to break out in a cold sweat. Clearly, she had misread their relationship. “Oh, I’m sorry I misspoke.”
“No, no, no.” Malik patted Peyton’s hand. “You haven’t. I think the world of your daughter.”
Just not the kind you want to marry, Peyton thought. “Wow, look at the time.” She glanced down at her watch. It was well past ten.
Luckily, her mother took the cue. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Malik. You’ve worked all day and we’ve kept you out so late.”
“I didn’t mind,” Malik replied. “I enjoyed myself.”
“So did we,” her father said, and signaled to the waitress for the bill. Once it was settled, Malik caught a cab for the Allens.
Once a taxi came curbside, Malik shook Mr. Allen’s hand, but Mrs. Allen gave him a hug instead. “Thanks for dinner. We had a great time.”
“It was great meeting you,” Lydia said. She slid inside the cab and her husband followed.
Peyton and Malik stood awkwardly at the curb. When it seemed that Malik wasn’t going to speak, Peyton finally broke the silence. “Well, thanks for coming.” She leaned forward and gave him a quick hug.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered in her ear.
Peyton pulled away and climbed into the cab. As they drove off, Peyton decided not to look back.
Chapter 14
Peyton was quiet on the ride back to her apartment. Tonight she’d felt as if things were still unfinished between her and Malik. She needed to talk to him and find out where she stood.
She retired to her room and began to undress. She’d just finished washing off her makeup and was reaching for a face towel when she notic
ed her mother standing in the doorway.
“So, do you want to tell me what that was all about?”
Peyton dried her face, threw the towel down and reached for her moisturizer on the counter. “What do you mean?” she asked, pouring a generous amount into her palm.
“C’mon, Peyton. You could cut the tension at the table tonight with a knife. What’s going on? I thought you were crazy about Malik.”
“I am.” Peyton massaged several dollops of moisturizer onto her face. “I’m just not sure that he’s as crazy about me.”
Her mother shook her head. “I disagree. The man I saw tonight is in love.”
“Then why,” Peyton asked turning around, “is it so hard for him to let me in? I know he had a painful childhood, Mama, but he won’t open up to me.”
“I didn’t say he knows he’s in love,” her mother said, lightly stroking her daughter’s cheek. “It’s hard for men to be vulnerable. You just have to stick in there and show him you’re not going anywhere. Maybe he’s used to people coming and going in his life. He did say he lived in an orphanage.”
“Yes, but there’s something more, I’m positive of it.”
“Then be patient. All will be revealed in due time.”
Should she continue to stand by Malik’s side until he realized he couldn’t live without her? That was the question that haunted Peyton as she drifted off to sleep.
As he stood on the balcony having a Dirty Martini, Malik didn’t know why he’d agreed to come with Quentin and Avery over to Richard King’s for dinner. He supposed he’d accepted to keep himself busy so he wouldn’t think about Peyton, but he’d done nothing else for the last two weeks. His mind would wander to her creamy, mocha skin and how soft it felt to his touch, or he’d remember the way she tilted her head to the side when she laughed. Or the way she moaned when she was on the verge of coming.
“Malik!”
Malik heard his name being called in the midst of his reverie, and he looked up. “Hmm?”
This Time for Real (Kimani Romance) Page 14