Close Quarters: A Novel (Zane Presents) (15 page)

His question was met with a blank expression. He walked behind me and spoke into my ear. “You doubt my skills?”

His mouth so close to my ear tickled. I started to laugh. Malik lifted me up from behind and put me in the cart. My legs were dangling over the side.

I started screaming. “Malik! Stop playing! Get me out of here!” I said between laughs. An elderly woman scrutinizing the boxed cake mixes frowned at us. Malik nodded at her, then proceeded
to push the cart down the aisle. He passed the old woman and started pushing faster. I struggled to pull myself up and out of the cart. Malik made a sharp turn, throwing me back into the cart. He started running down the aisle. I was laughing so hard, tears were streaming down my cheeks. We were met at the end of the condiment aisle by the store manager. Malik slid to a stop before barreling into him. I attempted to stifle my laughter as Malik pulled me from the cart. The store manager turned around without uttering a word.

“I’m going to beat your ass,” I said, wiping tears from my face.

“If you do, then I won’t be able to make you dinner tonight.”

“Why are you insisting that you can cook?”

“Are you going to make me throw you back in the cart?”

“All right, fine. What are you going to cook for me?”

“Don’t worry about that. Finish getting your stuff and I’m going to get what I need to make you the best dinner you’ve ever had.”

• • •

Malik bustled around the kitchen while I did paperwork in the living room. He refused to let me come in there. He had brought me a glass of wine and told me to stay out of his work zone. Whatever it was he was cooking did smell good.

He finally came into the living room an hour later and held out his hand. “Dinner is served.”

I pushed his hand out of the way. “This better be good. I’m starving.”

Malik had a small candle burning in the center of the table. He pulled out my chair for me. I sat down, looking back at him over my shoulder. He refreshed my wine glass and then placed garlic bread on the table. I sipped my wine while he plated our dinner. He put my dish in front of me and I was pleasantly surprised.
Chicken tenderloin sliced into medallions, topped with mushrooms, red peppers and garlic in a cream sauce. It was accompanied by herbed rice and sautéed broccoli. Malik sat down with his plate. He observed me with a prideful grin.

“Okay. It looks good, but it’s the taste that counts.”

He reached over and turned off the kitchen light. The flickering candle filled the kitchen with a warm glow. I cut a piece of the chicken and put it in my mouth. Tender and garlicky. I tried the rest. Everything was very flavorful.

My surprise leaked out. “It’s good. You
can
cook.”

“That’s what I said.” Malik started eating his food.

Every time I looked up from my plate Malik was watching me. He was eating too, but if he looked down in his plate at all, I didn’t see it. Maybe it was an illusion of the candlelight, a trick of shadows. Perhaps his eyes weren’t gazing at me. I started to say something but stopped myself.

“Go ahead. Ask me,” he said.

“Are you watching me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

The feather ruffler was about to get started. I was not taking the bait this time. I kept eating my dinner. I left him hanging with his question unanswered.

“I was thinking about how I like it when we get along,” he said.

“We usually do,” I said, then confessed. “No, we don’t.”

“But when we do, it feels real cool to me.”

“We live together—we should be able to get along with one another. You and I have a few rough days here and there, but mainly we’re fine.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Malik.”

He smirked. “What?”

“Obviously it’s too late to tell you to go easy on the wine.”

“I can’t give my roommate a compliment?”

“In case you didn’t know I’m immune to your mackin’.”

“Mel, why would I try to mack on you? You’re my roommate. You’re engaged. And you wouldn’t go for it, now would you?”

There was my face getting hot again. At least in the candlelight Malik wasn’t able to see that he had embarrassed me, or rather, I embarrassed myself. “I don’t need to answer that. You know I wouldn’t go for it.”

“Right. Like I said, it was just a compliment.”

I sipped my wine. “How are you spending Thanksgiving?” It was better to shift gears than to be stuck in neutral.

“I’m having dinner at my parents, then Kai invited me to have drinks with her friend Justine and her husband.”

“Hmm. A holiday with Kai . . . ”

“Since when did having drinks with someone become such a big deal?”

“For you it is. And don’t play naïve. It’s not the drinks; it’s the fact that you’re doing it on a holiday and with her friends. This is a big step for you.”

“Maybe it is. I haven’t thought about it.”

My smile froze. I was enjoying teasing him, but his last response prickled me. Malik was getting serious about Kai. He may not have taken the time to recognize it, but I had. “Well, whatever you do, have a good time. I won’t be back from Maryland until Sunday night.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

I blew out the candle and Malik flipped on the light.

K
ai and I sat at the mahogany table in the conference room with Mr. Donner gracing us with his slickest smile. The Sphere executives had just left the room; we had hit a homerun. We got the account. Donner paced in front of us, rambling about how proud he was to have such a talented team. I noticed that he spoke primarily to Kai, barely glancing my way. I kept a straight face, observing just how much Donner appreciated
my
work.

Kai was all smiles, however, nodding her head to every word that crossed Donner’s lips. She was engrossed, mesmerized even.

“Again, that was great work. Kai, be in my office in five minutes. I want to run a few things by you about how our relationship should proceed with Sphere,” Donner said.

Kai grabbed her things off the table and hurried out of the conference room behind Donner.

I sat in the empty meeting room, wondering whether a big shark and a little piranha may have just shared a meal at my expense.

I
t was no easy feat convincing Ellis that it would be pleasurable to drive to Maryland. He wanted to fly, first class, of course. We compromised by riding in his limo to my parents’ house. My mother expected us to arrive Wednesday night, however, Ellis had an unexpected meeting Wednesday evening that prevented us from leaving until Thanksgiving morning.

Ellis’s driver, Stanley, loaded my bag into the trunk and I carried the red velvet cake inside the car with me. Ellis was as crisp as ever at six in the morning. He was typing on his BlackBerry, paused long enough to quickly kiss me on the lips, then resumed his work. I sat next to him and removed my jacket.

Ellis handed me the remote for the television. “I’ll be done in a minute. I’m wrapping up some business with one of my investors in London.”

I pressed the power button and the monitor lowered from the ceiling. I tuned in to CNN. I kicked my sneakers off and curled my legs beneath me on the seat. Ellis rubbed my leg. I took in his version of casual—trousers and a button-down shirt—courtesy of Brooks Brothers.

Ellis tossed his BlackBerry on the seat next to him. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer. I snuggled against him.

He kissed my forehead. “Did you sleep all right?”

“I didn’t get much sleep. Too excited I guess. I haven’t seen my parents in seven months.”

“I thought I would have to come upstairs and pull you from the bed.”

“Any other day you might have, but I was ready at five-thirty.”

“Now that is shocking. Lina Bradford up early.”

“Anything for my parents.”

Ellis sighed. “Thanksgiving without my father. It almost doesn’t seem real.”

I sat up and faced Ellis. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said after a moment. “I was worried about leaving Mother, but she assured me she would be all right. She’s having dinner at Vivian and Joseph’s. I figured she would fare well with her best friend. Daniella went to the Bahamas with a few of her sorority sisters.”

If I knew Bebe, and I did, she was not pleased that her son was with me and not her on Thanksgiving Day. I had to admit that I felt a sense of compassion toward Bebe. Her first Thanksgiving without her husband had to be difficult. He’d only been gone four months. Ellis and I rarely talked about him. I followed Ellis’s lead. If he wanted to discuss him I did, if he wasn’t in the mood, then I didn’t mention Dr. Harlow.

On a day like today I had to be the bigger person. I’d make an effort and call Bebe later. There would be no harm in my wishing her a Happy Thanksgiving.

“How has Daniella been holding up?” I said.

“My sister wants to take a semester off from school.”

“She only has a year left.”

“I managed to bribe her out of it.”

“With what?”

“Guess.”

“Thanksgiving in the Bahamas.”

“With five of her friends. They’re staying at the Four Seasons Resort Great Exuma. All expenses paid.”

“It’ll do her good to get away.”

“I told Daniella to enjoy herself, but I also expect her to use the vacation to regroup. I will not have my little sister dropping out of college.”

I laid my head in Ellis’s lap and peered up at him. In his father’s absence, he’d really stepped up his role in Daniella’s life. With thirteen years separating them, he was old enough to tell her what to do but young enough to understand what she was going through. I’d observed them together on numerous occasions and appreciated the respect they had for one another. They loved each other as siblings, but interacted more like a mentor to a mentee. If Ellis wasn’t instructing her on the importance of education, he was drilling it into her that she needed to be preparing herself for business ownership. He insisted that she work at Harlow Pharmaceuticals during her summer vacations and, if she didn’t resist, during her Christmas breaks. Ellis was firm with Daniella but not smothering. Dr. Harlow was the exact opposite. Daniella was his little princess and he treated her as such. He spoiled her, but she never took advantage of him. Daniella adored her father. He didn’t need to be stern or cajole his daughter to do the right thing. She did what she was supposed to do just to please him. Daniella did not fit the classic mold of a spoiled rich kid.

Ellis brushed a lock of hair from my face. I put my hand over his and held it to my cheek. I loved his brown eyes. This man was going to be the father of my children. I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of father Ellis would be. He had never been overly expressive when it came to his emotions. Ellis had a reserved, slightly businesslike nature. He never quite let go. What happened
with me and Malik in the supermarket would have offended him to no end. I chuckled at the thought of me in the shopping cart.

“What’s funny?” Ellis asked.

“Oh nothing. Just thinking about something that happened in the supermarket the other day.”

“Tell me, what happened?”

“Malik and I were in the store—”

“No need to say anymore. Malik’s involvement guarantees some sort of buffoonery occurred.”

I wanted to argue, but I couldn’t; he was kind of correct. “Take a chill pill, Ellis.”

“A chill pill? What, are you borrowing some of Malik’s colorful colloquialisms?”

“Do you know how old that phrase is? It was around long before I met Malik. He is not responsible for every bit of slang that passes through my lips. Haven’t you
ever
used slang?”

“I try not to. It serves no purpose in business, so why start bad habits that are hard to break?”

“You act as if I said a dirty word. I said chill pill. What’s so awful about that?”

“Lina, you cannot go around spouting such nonsense.”

“I can’t?” I pouted my lips, and seductively whispered, “Chill pill.”

“Now you’re being silly.”

“I know a few more dirty words. You may want to cover your ears.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Stop hatin’, Ellis.”

“What kind of way is that to talk to someone? Am I supposed to know what you mean?”

“Fo shizzle my nizzle.”

Ellis opened his mouth to say something and then began laughing.
I started to laugh with him because I knew I sounded silly. “You see, Ellis, slang can be fun,” I said mockingly.

“I still think you spend too much of your time with that hoodlum.”

Our feel-good moment evaporated.

“I rarely see my roommate. We’re on two entirely different schedules.”

“Not good enough. I want you out of there. Have you started making arrangements to vacate your apartment?”

I yawned dramatically, then closed my eyes. “I’m checking into it,” I mumbled.

“Lina, I have been very patient when it comes to this matter. I expect you to get your things packed and move to Long Island with me.”

“I will,” I said, yawning again. “I’ve just been busy at work.”

“Do you need me to send someone over to help box everything up?”

“Don’t pressure me, Ellis. I’ll take care of it.”

“Then take care of it. I mean it, Lina.”

I turned on my side, face away from Ellis. He was going to harass me to death until I moved in with him. I wasn’t ready to move. I needed a well-thought-out argument to persuade Ellis that my living arrangement was just fine until we got married. I’d mull it over for a few days and then approach him with my rationale for staying put. The motion of the limo and the drone of CNN news lulled me to sleep.

We were crossing the Delaware Memorial Bridge when I woke up. Ellis had dozed off, head back on the headrest. Traffic was relatively light, considering it was a holiday. If we continued at this rate we’d be in Silver Spring in two hours. I reached into my bag for the paperback book I had stashed inside. It was a suspense novel Charlee had passed on to me. She gave me all types of books
that she read on her frequent flights to the West Coast. I’d been meaning to start this particular one for the past few weeks.