by Pamela Yaye
“Go on, girl. Go over there and wow Morrison with your stellar personality.”
Karma was so busy trash-talking with Chrissy she didn’t notice Morrison come up behind her, until he slid an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. Caught off guard, Karma gasped. She didn’t know why Morrison was holding her close, or gazing into her eyes, but she figured it was for the masseuse’s benefit and returned his smile. The expression on his face put her at ease, and his touch gave goose bumps.
“Good evening, ladies,” he said with a polite nod. “What are you betting on?”
The masseuse smirked. “That Karma won’t get your number.”
“I hope you didn’t bet against her, because she already has it. Now if you’ll excuse us, ladies, Karma and I need to speak in private.”
Eyes widened and jaws dropped when Morrison clasped Karma’s hand and shouldered his way through the crowd. Always smooth, never in a hurry, his calm, unflappable nature was a turn-on, and for a moment, Karma forgot she was mad at him. Wished they were at her place, instead of at the noisy, jam-packed lounge. Morrison led her through the bar, out the front door of the restaurant and into the parking lot.
Chilly, Karma wrapped her arms around her bare shoulders. Stars dotted the night sky, the evening breeze ruffled the tree branches, and the air smelled of cigarette smoke. It was late, time for Karma to get home to bed, but she wanted to hear what Morrison had to say. Was Reagan in trouble again? Were her grades slipping? Was he there to ask her to fire his niece again?
Opening the back door of his Bentley, Morrison stepped aside and gestured for Karma to get inside. She shook her head. Knew if she got in all bets were off, and the last thing she wanted was to lose control in his car. “No, thanks. I’m fine right here.”
Morrison leaned forward, and his cologne fell over her. Her mouth watered.
“That’s some outfit, Karma.”
“I know, right?” she said with a laugh, doing a twirl. She’d paired the strapless dress with a floral clutch and ankle-tie pumps, and from the time she’d arrived at The Palm East Hampton other patrons had been complimenting her look. “I bought it yesterday at my favorite boutique, and I love it.”
“As you should be. You look sensational, but that’s no surprise. You always do.”
Karma raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t bring me out here to discuss my remarkable fashion sense, so what’s up?” she asked, anxious to get to the bottom of things. “What are you doing here? You’re not a small business owner.”
“I came to see you, of course. What do I have to do to fix things?”
“What are you taking about? Fix what?”
“Fix us,” he said in a somber voice. “You’re avoiding me.”
“Avoiding you? Morrison, don’t be ridiculous. I’ve been busy with the salon.”
“Too busy to take my calls? I phoned you last night but you never got back to me.”
“I didn’t get home from my date until midnight, and I figured it was too late to call.”
His gaze narrowed, and the expression on his face was hostile, but his tone was calm.
“Do you go on blind dates every night?”
“God no,” Karma quipped, shivering at the thought. “I tried online dating a few times, but each date was worse than the last. And the mama’s boy from Queens, who conveniently forgot his wallet at home—after insisting we have dinner at the most expensive sushi restaurant in the city—has me seriously considering a vow of celibacy for the rest of my thirties!”
Morrison chuckled, and the sound of his hearty laughter tickled her eardrums, made her smile. Brought to mind all the times they’d flirted and joked around on her birthday. Her gaze lingered on his mouth, and she imagined herself ravishing his lips, ripping the designer suit from his body and kissing him all over. Try as she might, she couldn’t escape her explicit thoughts. Karma was glad Morrison couldn’t read her mind, because if he did they wouldn’t be chatting about the pitfalls of online dating, they’d be making out.
“Are you working tomorrow evening?” Morrison asked.
“I’m always working,” she said with a laugh, leaning against his gleaming white car. “I want Beauty by Karma to be the premier salon in the Hamptons, and I’m willing to do anything to make it happen, including making house calls and working eighty hours a week.”
“We’re having dinner at Masa tomorrow night and I won’t take no for an answer.”
Stunned, Karma raised an eyebrow. “How did you get a reservation at the best restaurant in New York City? You must have friends in high places, because I have clients who’ve been on the waiting list for years.”
“You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder all week, so I had to do something big to win you over, and nothing says I think you’re special like an extravagant meal at Masa.”
“Sorry, Morrison, but I have to work.” Karma wore a sad smile, but deep down she was glad her schedule was packed. The more she worked, the less time she had to think about her mother’s death, her attraction to Morrison and her problems with Jazz. “It’s always super busy at the salon, and with three stylists off we need all hands on deck.”
“All work and no play makes Karma a dull girl,” he joked. “Sound familiar?”
Karma faked a frown. “I’m not dull. I’m fabulous, and don’t you forget it!”
“That’s why I want to date you. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met, and I want us to be exclusive,” he confessed, stepping forward. “I don’t want anyone else but you.”
“Exclusive? After one night together? Morrison, that’s crazy—”
He cupped her chin in his hand, and the knot in her stomach tightened.
“No, what’s crazy is that you actually think you can resist me.”
His confidence was a turn-on, made Karma want to devour his mouth.
“I’m a Drake, Karma. I don’t let anything stop me from achieving my goals, and right now I have my sights set on you, so quit playing hard to get. It’s not going to work.”
Stepping back, she folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not a conquest, Morrison.”
“That’s right. As of today you’re my girl, and I don’t want you hooking up with guys on online dating apps, like that cheapskate from Queens, or Tiago Van den Berg.”
“Oh, so that’s why you’re here,” she said in a singsong voice. “You heard I went sailing with Tiago Van den Berg, and you’re jealous.”
“You deserve better. He isn’t good enough for you.”
“And you are?”
“Absolutely. I’m the perfect man for you, and I proved it your birthday weekend.”
Heat flooded her cheeks, and her erect nipples strained against her lace bra.
“Morrison, I don’t think we should date,” she said, ignoring her tingling body.
“Why? Because we argued at Cove Lounge?”
“No, because we clash.”
A grin curled his mouth. “Not in the bedroom. We’re totally in sync.”
“Just because we had amazing, toe-curling sex a few times doesn’t mean we’ll have a successful relationship. We’re both stubborn, headstrong people. It’ll never work.”
His eyes brightened, and his smile was as broad as his shoulders. “I made your toes curl? Well, I’ll be damned. I didn’t know I put it down like that.”
Hearing noises behind her, Karma glanced over her shoulder. Patrons spilled out of the restaurant, and hip-hop music blared from the silver SUV parked beside the lamppost. Karma opened her mouth to tell Morrison she was leaving, but he stepped forward and her breath caught in her throat. Her thoughts were muddled because of his closeness, and the scent of his cologne. Part of her wanted to leave, to put some distance between them, but another part of her—a bigger part of her—wanted to stay.
“The way I see it, you have two choices.” Morrison pulled he
r to his chest and dropped his mouth to her ear. “You can have dinner with me at Masa, or we can hang out together at the salon, but make no doubt about it, I’m seeing you tomorrow night, so what will it be?”
His words, and the defiant expression on his face, caught Karma off guard, and for the second time in minutes she struggled to speak, didn’t know what to say in response to his question. “Morrison, it’s wedding season, my busiest time of the year,” she explained, finding her voice. “And if I want to be the stylist to the stars I have to be available to my clients 24/7.”
“Fine, I’ll bring some food to the salon and keep you company while you work.”
“No!” she shouted, shaking her head at his outrageous suggestion. “I’ll reschedule my seven o’clock appointment so we can have dinner at Masa.”
Morrison winked. “Cool. I thought you’d see things my way.”
He sounded pleased with himself and his wide, I’m-the-man grin made Karma remember the first time they’d made love. They’d laughed and played in bed, and although they hadn’t known each other long she’d felt close to him, as if he’d genuinely cared about her and her feelings. Not to mention, he’d pleased her sexually. In ways she’d never imagined.
“Beautiful moments can’t be planned, only experienced...” Morrison said in a smooth voice.
Karma never saw the kiss coming, told herself if she did she would have moved out of the way, but when Morrison’s lips touched hers, she sank against his chest, desperate for more.
* * *
Morrison unlocked the front door of his newly renovated East Lake estate, turned off the security alarm and tossed his keys on the glass console table. One of his mother’s former employees, an impeccably dressed interior designer with a penchant for silk ties and top hats, had decorated his mansion with Italian marble, lush colors and fabrics, and the souvenirs he’d collected during his travels around the world. At Reagan’s urging, he’d transformed the den into a home theater with custom seating and mood lighting, and now it was Morrison’s favorite room in the house. He’d been so pleased with the renovations he’d given the designer a bottle of Hennessy and a five-figure bonus.
Morrison headed into the kitchen to fix himself a snack. Whistling the Bruno Mars song Karma had played for him earlier at her condo, he bobbed his head, and snapped his fingers. Morrison felt on top of the world, as if he was eighteen again.
A grin filled his mouth. After kissing Karma in the parking lot of The Palm East Hampton, he’d followed her to her condo so they could “talk,” but the moment they entered the dimly lit foyer he’d made his move. Overcome with passion, he’d devoured her mouth. Kissing her, he’d unzipped her dress, took off her undergarments and tossed them aside. They’d made love on the couch, and hours later he was still thinking about their frenzied lovemaking. No one had ever done the things to him that Karma did—licked from his earlobes to his nipples, sandwiched his erection between her breasts then eagerly sucked it, encouraged him to switch positions to prolong their lovemaking—and her sexual prowess blew his mind.
But what made Karma stand out from all the other women he’d dated was her personality. How real and authentic she was, how much she loved her clients, her employees, and her family and friends. Their lovemaking was exhilarating, but what he’d enjoyed most was holding her in his arms afterward, discussing anything and everything that came to mind. Karma loved to talk, and debate, and joke around, and said things that challenged his way of thinking. In many ways, she reminded him of Emmanuelle, and spending time with her was a welcome reprieve from his busy, demanding life.
The lights came on in the kitchen, blinding him, and Morrison stopped abruptly. Reagan was sitting on the counter, clutching her cell phone in her hands, scowling at him. “It’s one a.m.” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “Where have you been?”
Morrison frowned. “Why are you still up? You should be in bed. You have calculus first period, and a midterm exam in world history you need to be well rested for.”
“I’m the one asking the questions, mister, not you.”
Amused by the stern expression on her face, and her no-nonsense tone, he hid a smile.
“You were supposed to come to the graduation information session tonight at Hampton Academy, but you were a no-show. What’s up with that?”
Filled with guilt, Morrison hung his head, couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about the meeting at his niece’s private school, and wished there was something he could do to make it up to her. “Honey, I’m sorry. It slipped my mind.”
“I called your cell like a hundred times, but you didn’t answer.”
“I forgot my cell in the car, and when I tried to turn it on it was dead.”
“Likely story,” she quipped, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “How convenient.”
“I’ll be at the next meeting. I promise.”
“What’s going on with you? You rarely go out on weekdays, and if you do you’re always home at supper time.”
“I went to a networking event that ran late, but I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again,” Morrison said with an apologetic smile, taking her hand in his and squeezing it.
“It better not, or I’ll tell Grandma Viola and she’ll ground you for a month.”
Morrison chuckled. “Time for bed, kiddo. You have to be up early tomorrow—”
“Did you have fun with Ms. Karma?” Reagan asked, hopping off the counter.
“How did you know I was with Ms. Karma?”
Smirking, she pointed a finger at his face. “I didn’t. You just told me!”
Mad at himself for falling for the oldest trick in the book, Morrison inwardly scolded himself.
“You like her a lot, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he confessed, deciding it was time to come clean to his niece about his feelings for her boss. “She’s fun, down-to-earth, and I enjoy hanging out with her.”
“I told you Ms. Karma was amazing.” Reagan opened the freezer, took the container of chocolate ice cream off the bottom shelf and slammed the door shut with her foot. “Why don’t you invite her over next Sunday for lunch? We can have a barbecue, so the whole family can meet her. Grandma would love that. You know how anxious she is for you to settle down, and give her some grandbabies.”
To make his niece laugh, he joked, “We’ve only been on a few dates. It’s too soon. Besides, I don’t want Toya and Roderick to scare her off. You know they’re extra.”
Giggling, she opened the cupboard and grabbed two oversize ceramic bowls.
“Not so fast, young lady.” Morrison plucked the ice cream container out of his niece’s hands, returned it to the freezer and steered her out of the kitchen. “It’s time for bed. You have a full day ahead of you tomorrow, and so do I.”
Climbing the staircase to the second floor together, Reagan filled Morrison in on the graduation information session, her exam schedule and her increased hours at Beauty by Karma in May. Something Karma had said about Reagan days earlier came to mind, and Morrison wondered if it was true. “Are you having second thoughts about becoming a lawyer?”
“I love doing hair and makeup too, and Ms. Karma thinks I have real talent.”
“Fine, practice on your friends and classmates at Hampton Academy, but you’re going to New York University in the fall, and that’s final. Have I made myself clear?”
“What about what I want? Don’t I deserve to be happy?”
“Of course, but doing hair and makeup is beneath you. You’re a Drake, Reagan. A Drake,” he repeated, stressing his words. “I won’t stand by and watch you ruin your life. You’re going to college, not beauty school. I forbid it—”
“I don’t care what you think. It’s my decision to make, not yours. Ms. Karma believes in me and, most importantly, I believe in myself.”
For a moment, Morrison was speechless. Couldn’t get a
word out. Reagan never raised her voice to him, let alone yelled, and he didn’t appreciate her tone. Wasn’t going to stand for her disrespectful attitude. “If you ever speak to me like that again you’ll lose more than just your car,” he said, meeting her narrowed gaze. “This conversation is over. Now go to bed.”
“I’m sick and tired of you telling me what to do. Maybe I should go live with Uncle Roderick and Toya for the rest of the school year. They understand me better, and...”
Over my dead body! Morrison thought, vigorously shaking his head. You’re not going anywhere. This is your home, and I’m your legal guardian. More important, I love you, and I’d be lonely if you weren’t here. “Reagan, this isn’t open for discussion. You cannot be a stylist. You made plans for the future, and you’re going to see them through.”
Sniffing, tears shimmering in her eyes, Reagan stomped into her bedroom, slammed the door in Morrison’s face and blasted her stereo.
Chapter 12
“I have a bad feeling about this.” Karma was sweating profusely in her ruffled, polka-dot bathing suit, but she tried not to let her nervousness show. Didn’t want Morrison to know she was afraid. Wanted him to think she was adventurous and youthful, like the other women frolicking on Coopers Beach, but she had knots in her stomach. “I’ve never gone kayaking before, and I don’t want to embarrass myself. Or worse, end up in a neck brace.”
“Baby, don’t worry. I’ve got you. I won’t leave your side.”
Leaning over, Morrison pressed his lips to her mouth. Closing her eyes, Karma snuggled against his chest, reveled in the beauty of the moment. His smile was his best feature, what dazzled her every time, but it was his kiss that made her weak. He was the most amazing man she’d ever met, and Karma treasured their time together. She was exhausted, beat after working five consecutive twelve-hour shifts, but she’d rather spend the day with Morrison at the beach than catch up on sleep. Since Networking After Dark, they’d had dinner at Masa, played doubles tennis with his brother and sister-in-law, and watched movies at her condo. They’d been dating for three weeks, and every day Karma found something new to love about Morrison. He was the most honorable, selfless man she knew, and she adored him.