by Nia Arthurs
While she’s waiting, I move to my second client who is sitting in front of the mirror. She’s doing a twist-out for her daughter’s birthday party. I’m putting in the twists for her so she can undo them later this evening after she’s dressed for the event.
“You good, ma’am?”
“I’m fine, dear,” she says. The whisk of the magazine page turning eclipses the statement.
I put my hands into her hair and get back to my work.
As I twist, my gaze wanders down the hall.
My bedroom door is locked shut, but I know the curtains are still pulled, choking out the sunlight that’s been blazing for hours. I know the air will be stifled with pained silence. I know that Chandra’s still in bed.
Though, to be fair, that’s a habit she picked up when she started dating Rick. The millionaire allowed her to live life at her leisure. Fancy parties. Celebrities. Fast cars. Everything she’d wanted was at her fingertips.
It sounded like a dream.
Who knew it was really a nightmare?
Rick must have been a monster to live with. I’m starting to wonder now if buying the bakery was just a lavish apology after he hit her.
I feel my temperature rising.
Grit my teeth.
Strain my eyes on the coarse hair tangled in my fingers.
I pull the curls apart and smooth them over with my leave-in conditioner.
The motion lulls my mind back to a state of calm.
But I can’t help the niggling unease creeping over the back of my neck.
I’m so worried about Chandra.
Not just about her future but her past.
Like… was Rick her first abusive boyfriend? Were there more pigs I didn’t know about?
Should I have said something, done more?
After she found Rick, I egged Chandra on and applauded her good fortune. When I wasn’t bigging Rick up, I was constantly bemoaning the fact that I couldn’t snag a millionaire of my own.
Deep in my heart, I’d been jealous of her.
How could she have admitted to the darker underbelly of her perfect life with me whining like that?
But is it really my fault?
Chandra should have known better.
She should have…
My thoughts, veering toward judgment, snag on compassion.
Chandra didn’t deserve this.
Any of this.
What other horrors has she suffered on her path to snagging the most handsome and well-off bachelors in the city? What other scars has she earned on her body and soul while I was off looking the other way?
It drives me absolutely insane.
I bite down on my lip in frustration.
One side of me wants to shake Chandra and the other wants to coddle her until she can face the world on her own again.
I suck in a deep breath.
Focus, Cobie.
An upbeat song plays from the Bluetooth speaker sitting in front of the sofa. I try to lose myself in the rhythm of the beat and match my twisting to the pace of the drums.
My mother taught me how to do hair and I’ve been in love with the creativity and versatility of kinky textures ever since. Even if this particular path isn’t littered with fame and riches, there is nothing I would rather do.
Given everything that’s going on with Chandra, I’m glad for something to focus on. I’ve been on my feet since nine this morning and keeping busy helped with the internal chaos.
Sort of.
“Cobie?” My client glances at me in the reflection of the mirror. “I think there’s someone at the door.”
“Huh?” I turn down the volume of the music and hear the knock.
I’m not expecting my next appointment until after lunch, so I have no idea who’s outside.
Confused, I wipe my wet hands against my shirt and move to the door. A glance through the peephole has my heart thudding in my chest.
I quickly open up.
“Griffin,” his name escapes on a whispered sigh.
He’s wearing a simple white T-shirt and black pants. Massive arms strain against his T-shirt sleeves. Strong legs are planted a shoulder-width apart. His hair lies messily over his forehead, inviting my fingers to run through it.
I smile stupidly.
All my chaotic, dark thoughts have come to a careening stop at the sight of him. I just revel in that peace.
He lifts a plastic bag. “I brought lunch.”
I inhale the aroma. “Burgers?”
“Sesame seed bun, beef patty, lettuce, cheese, no pickles or mustard.”
“How did you know?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Lucky guess?”
“Ladies,” I scrunch my nose at the clients not-so-subtly spying on us, “I’ll just be a quick second.”
Thrusting my palms against a confused Griffin, I push him into the hallway.
Close the door behind me.
Whirl around.
He shuffles back. “What are you…?”
I grab his cheeks and drag him down for a kiss.
The plastic bag bounces against my thigh.
His eyes burst open, wider than my fist. It makes a funny impression, but I close my eyes and link my fingers at the back of his neck, holding him down and forgetting about everything but this sweet indulgence.
Griffin’s hair is still wet and he smells like aftershave, so I’m assuming he went home and showered after the gym. His lips are firm beneath mine.
My heart thunders in my chest, sending lightning bolts of electricity down to my toes, which are curled in my flip-flops.
I like him.
I like him so much.
Damn it.
I tried so hard not to plummet down this rabbit hole, but here I am… falling away.
Griffin wraps his hands around my waist and takes control of the kiss, but it doesn’t last long because he keeps smiling against my mouth and screwing up the motion.
I press a kiss to the corner of his lips and back off. “I hate that you’re so perfect.”
“No, you’re perfect,” he murmurs.
“Ew,” I back away. “Stop. We’re not doing that.”
“I think we’d make a cute, cheesy couple.”
I know he’s saying crap just to get on my nerves, but it still works. “Go. I have work to do.”
“So do I.” He smiles. “I didn’t come to stay long. I just needed to see you.”
I bat my eyelashes. “You missed me?”
“Since you don’t want us to be cheesy, I’m going to sidestep that question.” He winks and hands the plastic bag over to me. “There’s one for Chandra in there as well.”
I narrow my eyes. “If you guessed her exact order too, you’ll be in trouble.”
He laughs. “I didn’t.”
“Good.” I jerk my chin down.
He backs up. “See you tonight… in my dreams.”
I pretend to gag.
Chuckling, Griffin trots down the stairs.
My gaze devours his backside until he’s out of sight.
Mm-mm-mm.
I shoot a prayer of gratitude to the man who first discovered the benefits of squats and then head back to my clients with a stupid smile on my face.
The door clicks into place.
Two sets of brown eyes land on me.
Still drunk from Griffin’s kiss, I clumsily stagger to the bonnet dryer and check it. “Seems like you’re done.”
“That your boyfriend?” my client asks.
I freeze. “Uh…”
“That white guy?” Twist Out chimes in. “No way.”
“Why not? I think mixed-race couples are cute.”
Twist Out slants the younger girl a heated look. “Cute? You call destroying the black race ‘cute’?”
“Ehem.” My walking-on-sunshine vibe wobbles in the face of their heated negativity. “He’s not my boyfriend and even if he was, the race would live on.”
Twist Out shakes her head. “Black women are nothi
ng but dirty fantasies to those people. We’re good enough to screw but not to marry.”
“There are so many interracial marriages now,” the younger one hisses. “You don’t even know.”
“Ladies, why don’t we calm down?” I beg.
“I’m done.” Twist Out throws her hands up and pins me with a knowing look. “Just… be careful. I heard about that competition you won. You’re doing big things and standing out as a positive representation for our people. I don’t want you to fall for a white-man scam.”
I paste a polite smile on my face and get back to doing her hair. “I’ll be careful.”
But in my head, I brush her words off.
Scam? Where? Griffin’s been nothing but genuine since our first encounter.
He would never deceive me.
I’m one hundred percent sure about that.
24 Griffin
“Have you told Cobie yet?” Ollie asks a week later. He’s looking down at me with a judgmental scowl and a half-cocked eyebrow. “You haven’t, right?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your secret.”
I adjust my fingers on the bar and hook it back into place. Sweat runs down my face and pools beneath my sleeveless T-shirt. “Which secret? That I used to be two hundred pounds bigger or that I’ve been in love with her since high school?”
“Both.”
I run the towel over my face. “I haven’t found the right time yet.”
“Why not?”
I glare at him. “Do I have to answer that question?”
“Yes.”
My glare intensifies.
Ollie sighs. “Take this from someone who’s made his share of mistakes. Tell Cobie the truth before it’s too late.”
“I will. When I’m ready.”
Things are going well right now. Cobie and I haven’t managed to go on a real date yet—I’m swamped with work and she’s running after Chandra—but we’ve been talking every day.
Every night.
She’s letting me in, allowing me past that wall she put up for her own protection. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been and I don’t see the need to drag the past into the present.
“It’s not even that important.”
“Skeletons have a habit of popping out of the closet, Griff. You don’t want to be exposed by someone else.”
“Are you saying you’ll expose me?”
He scowls and rakes a hand over his stubble. “You know that’s not it.”
Grabbing my water bottle, I guzzle the contents back. “Why don’t you worry about yourself?”
“My problems are way bigger than yours so I’d rather not.” He grabs his own towel and spots his neck. “Cobie called me yesterday.”
I freeze mid-step.
“She’s planning a get-together.”
I spin. “Cobie? My Cobie wants to do that?”
He nods.
“That doesn’t sound like her.”
“She asked me to invite some single guys from the gym. I think she’s trying to set Chandra up.”
“Oh.” I nod.
“Listen, man. This is more complicated than that.”
“How so?”
“Your girl asked me questions about you. About your friends. About your past. She wanted to know why you didn’t have a presence on social media. I had to lie to cover for you. Said you were a private person.”
“I am.”
“Don’t B.S. me, Griff. We both know you’re not putting yourself out there because you’re hiding from your old classmates, from your old self.”
Annoyance buzzes through my veins. “My old self was a loser. It’s better if everyone forgets about him.”
Ollie’s gaze turns sympathetic. “You can’t run from your past. You’ve got to face it, embrace it and learn from it.”
“What are you now? My therapist?” I grab my bag and hook the strap on my shoulder.
Ollie calls after me. “If you’re not going to see this as advice, take it as a warning. Cobie’s looking into you. Be prepared if she finds out the truth.”
I leave the gym with his words ringing in my ears.
It sticks with me, following me around like a damn shadow.
Be prepared if she finds out.
On the one hand, I’m terrified of rocking the boat and exposing that vulnerable side of myself to Cobie. On the other, I know her well enough to say that she wouldn’t be fazed by my past at all.
If anything, it would prove to her that I’m not the privileged playboy she thought I was based on her first impression.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that Ollie is right. There’s no real reason for me to hide who I am from the woman of my dreams.
And if she has a problem with it then…
I don’t allow myself to think about that reality.
There’s nothing holding me back.
I’ve got my second official meeting with Cobie at Winthrop tomorrow. I’ll tell her the truth and let the chips fall as they may.
25 Griffin
Once again, Cobie makes a stir when she walks into the lobby. But this time, I’m right there at the door, walking in with her and staking my claim.
No one’s stupid enough to call out to her while I’m right there.
Cobie smiles brightly when she sees me. “Hey.”
“Hey.” My gaze lingers on her outfit—the very professional jacket, a black blouse and a pair of tight jeans.
So.
Damn.
Sexy.
Lush lips curl skyward. “I’m up here, buddy.”
I smile to hide my sheepishness. “Did you leave Chandra?”
“She’s at the bakery.” Cobie clasps her hands together, brown eyes dancing. “Working on a secret mission.”
I already know what that mission is and my heart thuds.
Tell her.
I will.
I’ve got my eyes peeled, alert. Waiting for the perfect time.
The meeting flows by, the conversation colliding in a blur. I’m glad we’ve got someone taking notes because I wouldn’t be able to recite a single thing we discussed.
After, Cobie and I head downstairs to the lab.
This time, instead of standing at opposite ends of the elevator, I’ve got her wedged into the security camera’s blind spot.
She wraps her hands around my neck. “Hey.”
“Hi.” I’ve been waiting all day to touch her and I satisfy that craving now, settling my fingers on her waist.
“I didn’t know marketing could be that interesting,” she whispers to me, her chin tilted up so she can meet my eyes. “You make it hot.”
“My eyes kept running to you and I kept forgetting what I was trying to say, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
She fiddles with the top button of my shirt. “Are you saying I’m distracting?”
“Very.” I run a finger over her smooth, brown cheek. Breathe her air. Savor her nearness.
Stunning.
Sexy.
Sensuous.
Cobie’s beauty entraps me.
I devour the secrets of her face, the details that can only be discovered up close when personal boundaries are dismantled and put away—the crease of her eyelids, the texture of her lips, the crinkles her eyes make when she smiles.
Like she’s smiling now.
“I missed you,” I admit.
“Me too.”
I lean back, mildly surprised. “You did?”
“Am I not allowed to miss you?”
“I was waiting for you to make a joke.” I place my hand on her forehead. “Are you sick?”
She wraps slender fingers around my wrist and yanks my hand down. Bringing it to her lips, she places a sensual kiss into my palm while enchanting me with her sultry brown eyes.
My body bursts to flames.
I lean in, intent on giving my mouth the pleasure my hand just indulged in.
Cobie smirks knowingly. “Don’t. The doors will ope
n any second and these jeans are hard to take off.”
“Are you doubting my self-restraint?”
“Not yours. Mine.”
Blood rushes south.
This woman…
My hand plays with the loop of her pants and I press into her. “Later, I’ll show you how easy these are to take off.”
It’s a promise.
A warning.
A threat.
Her pupils dilate.
Nostrils flare.
She’s always the one riling me up, so it’s nice to return the favor every now and again.
I back away when the elevator lands on the right floor. Straightening my tie and adjusting my pants, I gesture for Cobie to leave first. She walks with a strange waddle, as if a part of her has suddenly gotten very sensitive.
I hold back a laugh.
Follow her out.
Doc is in the waiting area when we stop by.
His expression is a little softer now when he looks at Cobie. “Ms. Simmons.”
“Doc. How are things coming?”
We discuss the progress he and his team have made on the texture and scent of the conditioner. Doc even gives us a little preview.
I hold my breath while Cobie inspects the mixture, but she seems impressed and I start to relax. Doc meets my eye and nods as if there wasn’t a doubt in his mind about the quality of his work.
Our discussion turns to organic ingredients and unit costs.
Cobie starts to yawn.
“I have all the data in my office,” Doc says, gesturing to the door.
Cobie smiles politely. “I’ll wait here.”
“You sure?” I ask, hoping she’ll change her mind and stay by my side.
“I have to make a call.”
Doc clears his throat. “Griff.”
We leave the lab and head to his office to pore over the information he presents. I accept his findings and promise to get back to him.
“Now that that’s through,” Doc folds his fingers together, “do you mind telling me why you’re dating a client?”
I stiffen. “How did you…?”
“Oh, please. You two are about as subtle as a gun. It’s a wonder you don’t bump into walls the way you can’t take your eyes off her.”
“Are you against us?”
“If I say yes, will you dump her?”
“Not a chance.”
He purses his lips. “Just don’t get caught. It might not be illegal, but it is frowned upon to mix business and pleasure.”