by Tiya Rayne
I just didn’t do church and living by some made up rules some man created and wrote in a book Centuries after the shit happened. To me, church was something I was forced to do as a child. It all seemed like some big fashion show that people did just to prove that they were more Christian than the next person.
If you didn’t go to Sunday school, regular service, prayer night, bible study, and choir rehearsal, then you weren’t as saved as the person that did. I refused to be forced to do something that I wasn’t sincere about. And don’t get me started on those so-called pastors.
“Pastor Murphy, I’m afraid you won’t get Duck to go to church. Some people just don’t want to be saved,” Keva said in her usual holier than thou tone. “Lord knows if I’ve been praying for her soul and it hadn’t happened, it never will.” Keva giggled.
“What makes your prayers so special, Keva?”
Her eyes flashed to me, and she smiled smugly. “The way I live my life, Duck. I’ve been saved since I was nine years old, and I’ve never strayed from the Lord’s word.”
“Amen, Baby!” Aunt Jo praised.
Aunt Jo was always proud that she had at least one child that she could brag about to the church folks. For a while, it was Kenny Jr., but after he didn’t make it to the pros and got hooked on painkillers and alcohol, she had to let that go, and we all knew Keisha ain’t got shit going for her. So I understood why her pride and joy was in believing her saintly daughter had the blessings of God himself.
I cocked my head to the side and smiled at Keva. “You sure about that?”
The entire table went completely silent. I took a slow sip of my glass of water as Keva studied me with a nervous smile. She had no idea I knew the things I knew.
“Yes, I’m sure, Duck! I’m not like you. My husband has the honor in knowing he was my first and last.”
I laughed at how easily I could have called her out. But, like with Chante and Keisha, I bit my tongue.
And the family said I was heartless.
“Ignore Duck, Keva. She just wants someone to feel as low as she does,” Aunt Viv stated. “You are a gifted woman of God.”
Keva smiled proudly, and Aunt Jo nodded her head in agreement.
“Well, according to who you ask, so am I,” I stated with a wink.
Keva gasped in disgust along with a few others. Devin laughed beside me and gave me a fist bump. Eli shook his head and mumbled ‘TMI’ under his breath.
Pastor Murphy cleared his throat getting everyone’s attention again.
“Well, I would like to extend an invitation for you, Ms. Duck, to come out and hear one of my sermons.”
I leaned back in my chair, giving the good pastor my full attention. I took in his full lips and perfect teeth. His eyes lit up at my interest in him.
“Thanks, Pastor, but I’ll pass.”
Again a few grunts of disapproval went around the table.
“Well, I have private hours. You are welcome to come and seek council. It is my desire….. that no soul go unsaved if I can help it.”
“Amen!” Aunt Jo agreed.
She had no idea this pastor could give a shit about my soul. He wanted to touch and agree with something, but it wasn’t my salvation.
I glanced over at the pastor’s wife, and her eyes locked onto me with an angry glare. My mouth went up in a smirk.
Relax sister, I don’t want your man.
“Pastor Murphy, I fear you may be wasting your time,” Papa said. “I don’t force my little Duck to the Lord. I figure, she will come when the Lord calls for her.”
“He gon’ have to break through Satan’s phone call first,” Keisha mumbled.
The entire table laughed, and another conversation picked up. Thankfully, not about my soul.
However, I could tell by the heated look coming from Pastor Murphy that he was still thinking about some alone time with me.
FOUR
The rest of my Sunday went as planned. I went home with a plate of leftovers from Grams, which I ate while I caught up on some of my shows, and I ended my night with a bubble bath, a glass of wine, and an orgasm from my favorite vibrator.
Mondays were always my late days. I had nothing on my agenda until the afternoons when my team and I went over new contracts and discussed our current client’s concerns.
As soon as I walked into the building, my assistant, Troy, greeted me at the door. Troy started going over my schedule for today. Most of it I already knew, but his job was to remind me and to make sure I stayed on schedule.
“…..And Mr. Yakamura called again today. He’s really hoping you take on his company,” Troy said, finishing his debriefing.
“Thanks, Troy! I’ll return his call today.”
I walked into my large glass office, and I got the same feeling I always did when I came to work— happiness.
I loved what I did, and I wanted my office to show my love for my job. I couldn’t imagine sitting in a dark box all day looking at the walls. My office was huge, probably the size of two regular size offices. It had its own bathroom with a closet and walk in shower for those days my job kept me late. A wall with a built-in wet bar and mini fridge. On the opposite side of the bar was a sitting area with a couch and two chairs.
My entire office was made up of sound proof glass. The back wall gave you a view of downtown Atlanta. The other walls viewed out into my employees. The best part was with a touch of a remote, the glass became tinted, and no one could see inside.
“Oh, last thing,” Troy said, standing at the front of my desk with his tablet clutched to his chest. “This came for you today.” He picked up a rectangular shaped Manila envelope and handed it to me.
I looked down at the envelope and noticed there was no return address.
“Did they say who it’s from?” I asked, turning the letter over in my hands.
Troy shrugged. “Nope, some guy just dropped it off this morning.”
“Ok! Thanks, Troy. That will be all.”
He smiled and nodded before leaving my office. I stared at the envelope a little longer before picking up my gold plated letter opener and ripped it open. Inside were two paper objects. The first one was a letter hurriedly written out on note pad paper. From the messy slant of the letters, I assumed a man wrote it.
Dear, Ms. Jefferies.
I saw this yesterday, and I immediately thought of you.
I placed the letter down to look at the other paper. It was a bumper sticker. Big white letters written on a black background read, Bad Driver. In smaller letters beneath bad driver were the words: Seriously, I fucking suck.
I burst into laughter as I stared down at the bumper sticker, I immediately knew who the letter was from. I picked up the letter and continued to read.
I’m afraid I have some bad news. It appears my dog, Lady, is very distraught about the wreck. She’s even thinking of filing charges. I’ve talked to her, told her you seemed like a nice person, maybe a little heavy-footed on the gas pedal, but nice. I was able to convince Lady to come to an agreement. She agrees to reconsider her lawsuit if you agree to have coffee with me today. I’ve included my number at the bottom of this letter; call me if you would like to discuss any further actions. As a fair warning, Lady is known to be quite the beast in the court room, I would take this offer if I were you.
Signed
Jackson Keller (unsuspecting victim in a diabolical car crash scheme.)
By the time I’d finish reading the letter I’d laughed so much my cheeks hurt. I couldn’t believe how funny he was and still persistent. I checked the clock on my desk and noticed that I had ten minutes before my staff meeting. Even though I had no intentions of going on a coffee date, or seeing Jackson again, my phone was in my hand and dialing the number scribbled at the bottom of the paper.
The phone rung three times. Before I could talk myself into hanging up, a gruff voice came over the speaker.
“Keller landscaping, this is Jackson Keller speaking?”
“Tell your dog she
doesn’t frighten me.”
His chuckle through the phone was just as sexy as seeing it on his face in person. I could envision those hazel eyes crinkled around the edges. That thick beard accenting that sexy full bottom lip. And those dimples. Damn, I just ruined my thong. What was Mr. Keller doing to my body?
“Hello to you too, Ms. Jefferies.”
“And unsuspecting victim? I think you’re pushing it there. I’m still not convinced the wreck wasn’t your plan to get my attention.”
“Well, if it turns out to be successful, I’ll definitely add it to the repertoire.”
I chuckled.
“I will say this, Mr. Keller, you are nothing if not persistent.”
“I did warn you.”
“You did. I thought you were joking.”
“Nope….. So, does this call mean you are taking me up on my offer?”
I spun my chair around, turning to admire my view of Atlanta. I sighed into the phone.
“A sigh,” Jackson said before I could speak. “I’m hoping that is a sign of surrender. Have I finally chased you down?”
“Jackson, I don’t think….”
“Don’t think, Charlice. Just do. Why are you so scared to take my offer? Are you one of those weird people that don’t drink coffee? I mean, if you are, we can work around it. Get you some help. Maybe take you to get some type of counseling or something.”
Another chuckle. Damn, he had me acting like some little teenager.
“I like coffee, Jackson.”
“Good, because I was already trying to think of ways to hide that fact from my friends and family.”
I laughed out loud.
“If it isn’t the coffee, what is it? Is it my beard?”
“You’re……not my type,” I admitted.
I was met with silence on the other end of the phone. For a moment, I feared that I might have finally turned him away. That thought bothered me in ways I didn’t care to study right now.
Jackson’s voice came through the phone cutting off my concerns.
“So, you’re one of those people. I never took you for the narrow-minded type.”
“Excuse me?” his comment had me sitting up in my chair.
“To each it’s own, Ms. Jefferies. I just thought you were the type of woman that didn’t fit into a small box. Not like the people that think they can only find love and happiness with someone that looks like them. It’s absurd. It’s like they’re saying, ‘I love sweets, but I only eat one type of cake.’ There are billions of men out there, Ms. Jeffries, and you’re only limiting yourself to less than a third of that number.”
I found myself speechless. Jackson made a valid point. Though I found all men attractive, I’d only ever dated—and I use the word dated for lack of a better word—black men. And though I’d had my share of duds, like Cliff, I’d also been with some outstanding, hardworking, intelligent, and loving brothers. However, I had been limiting myself. Truthfully, I was attracted to Jackson. He was funny, charming, and sexy. If he were black, I would have agreed to his coffee the first time he asked. Probably would have already fucked him and added him to my list.
“Ok, Mr. Keller. Since you are such an equal opportunist dater, tell me, how many black women have you dated?”
A chuckle. “None.”
“What?!?!”
“But it’s not from lack of trying. It seems every woman of color I’ve come across and tried to date, has the same mindset as you. I keep running into your type.”
“First off, stop saying my type. I’m not a type.” I huffed.
“Then prove me wrong, Charlice.” His voice dropped lower into a sexy bedroom growl, and I had to clench my thighs together to stop the ache. It seemed like I would have to pull out one of my vibrators and head to the bathroom after this call.
Jackson had talent. We hadn’t even done anything yet, and I was already dripping for him.
I glanced at the clock on my laptop and realized I only had about five more minutes before my meeting.
“Look, Jackson, race issue aside….”
“It’s not an issue...”
“….Anyway, with that aside, you still aren’t my type.”
“Again, is it the beard? Because, I’ve been told there are benefits to this beard.”
That damn voice again. Another clenching of the thighs.
“It’s not the beard.” I sighed, finally time for me to let Mr. Jackson go. “You say you know my type, well I know yours. You want a relationship. I don’t do relationships, Jackson. I don’t date. Ever.”
Another long pause from him. I had a feeling he was letting my words fully register.
“So you’re telling me you’re only interested in sex?”
“Yes!”
“And you’ve done this before? With other men?”
“Obviously.” Many times.
“And men are ok with this? They are ok with being with you knowing you’re only into sex?”
“What are you trying to say?”
I did nothing to hide the irritation in my tone.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a woman’s right to her own sexual freedom. Women should have the same liberties to enjoy their sexuality as men without all the ugly labels they receive. I just find it hard to believe that any man could settle with having you for just a short roll in the hay.”
For the second time, I was rendered speechless by this man. For a woman that loved to talk and always had something to say, that was a remarkable feat. Jackson Keller had shut me up twice in one conversation.
Look, I knew I was beautiful. I wasn’t a woman with low self-esteem. Did I think I was the most beautiful woman to ever grace this earth? Hell no! But I had enough confidence to know I wasn’t a troll. So men telling me I was beautiful or sexy or whatever term they used to explain my looks, was nothing to me. However, having a man tell you how much value he saw in you did make me a little weak in the knees. Yet, it still didn’t change anything.
“Despite how you feel, Mr. Keller, the truth still remains. You want something I’m incapable of giving. Which is why once again, I have to turn down your coffee offer.”
“I love a challenge, Ms. Jefferies.”
Oh, my God, this man was determined. His resilience made me smile, despite my exasperation.
“This is not a challenge.”
“Hmmm, how about we discuss what is or isn’t a challenge over coffee? We can go as friends.”
“Friends?” I playfully scoffed as Troy entered right on time ready to usher me out of my office and into my boardroom. I held up one finger to hold him off.
“Why not, everyone needs a friend, right? Just think about it.”
“I have to go, Mr. Keller. But, I will think about your offer. Only as friends.”
His chuckle greeted me. “That’s all I ask. I’ll be expecting your call. Good day, Charlice.”
“Goodbye, Jackson.”
I switched off my phone with the biggest grin on my face. There was something about that man. I shook my head, ready to start my work week.
“Whoever that was on the phone must be special,” Troy said, following me out of my office. “I’ve never seen you smile like that.”
“What are you talking about? I smile all the time.”
I did. I was generally a happy person, at least I thought so.
“There is a difference between your generally happy smile and the smile you have now. Your smile now is the smile of a woman that has just spent a few minutes talking to the man of her dreams.” Troy nudged my shoulder with his own.
I looked over to my well-dressed assistant that had been with me since I left Piers and started my own business and smiled even bigger. If I were another person, in another time, Jackson Keller might have been the man of my dreams, but I don’t dream about men. If I did, they either had their face buried between my legs or my heels over their shoulders. I was not falling for a man I’d only met once and talked to on the phone for ten minutes.
&nbs
p; I ignored Troy’s words and the thoughts they inspired. I pushed open the doors to my conference room, and I was met by my team. I was in all business mode now.
Five
Three days. Three fucking days had passed, and the only thing I’d been thinking about more than sex, was Jackson Keller.
What the hell? Not only did he scrounge around my brain during the day, but he popped into my dreams at night. Usually something like this would require a little scroll through my contact list. I just needed to get my fix, a little sexual distraction. Yet, every time I looked through that damn list, nothing jumped out at me. It’s like being hungry, but every time someone suggests a restaurant, you turn your nose up at it. At this moment, a sistah was starving, but it seemed like if your name wasn’t Jackson Keller, the coochie didn’t want anything to do with you.
I pulled my silver BMW X7 into the driveway of Devin’s small rental. Already the neighbors had congregated outside on their porches to see who was pulling up into their neighborhood with this car. On this side of town, only people that drove my car were drug dealers or folks that were lost. You’d think they would be used to seeing me by now considering I was here every two weeks to get my hair done.
I stepped out of the car and grabbed my black hair store bags along with my work suitcase. My phone went off in my pocket, and I pulled it out to look at the screen. Another text from Cliff. I’d blocked his cell phone and the landline he’d tried to call me on. I guess he had a new number or was using a friend’s phone. Not to worry, it would get blocked too. I didn’t even read the message before I deleted it. I could guarantee it was the same as the others.
“I’m sorry.”
“Please forgive me.”
“Can we just talk it out?”
Hell No! Once I cut a dude off, it was for good. There was no dick in this world worth a second chance after they’d wronged me. And putting his hands on me, was beyond wrong.
The door to the house opened before I made it up the steps. Kylie rushed out the door to give me a hug. She looked just like her mother did at this age.