Close Quarters: A Novel (Zane Presents) (7 page)

“What if Ellis calls? You know he doesn’t like it when I don’t put him through.”

“I’m not taking
any
calls. That includes Ellis.”

“I hear you but—”

“No calls, Nadia.”

“All right. I’ll get you those forms.”

When Nadia left the office, I shook my head. How did Ellis have my assistant more worried about his reaction than about doing what I asked her to do? I didn’t want to probe Nadia about his behavior, but I would certainly inquire with Ellis about his conduct
when calling my office. I could only imagine him shoving his sense of entitlement down Nadia’s throat.

I managed to get through most of the morning uninterrupted. My only diversions were a few questions from Dave and Heather, two of the accountants on my staff. In total I had a staff of ten, half of them being accountants. Nadia was my assistant and we had two others that divided their time between accountants. A couple of interns were responsible for miscellaneous office duties.

My purse hummed with the vibration of my cell phone. I reached in the bag and checked the number of the incoming call. Ellis. Nadia wouldn’t put him through, so he dialed my cell. Typical. I silenced the phone and laid it on my desk. A few minutes later, he called again. I dropped the phone back in my bag. I gathered up my files for Omega Toys and tossed them into my briefcase. I headed down the hallway to the reception area and retrieved my trench from the coat rack.

“Nadia, I’ll be back in a few hours. If you need me, call my cell.”

I was meeting with Martin Sewell at noon and had to be back in the office no later than three for my next meeting. Martin was a talker and tended to discuss his family and his travels more than our business matters. It would be a hustle, but if I could keep Martin on track, I’d be back on time with minutes to spare.

My bag vibrated as I walked out of the door. I answered the phone, explained to Ellis that I was in the midst of an extremely chaotic day, and promised to call as soon as I found a free minute. I hurried to my car and off to Midtown Manhattan to meet with Martin.

• • •

I was in the kitchen preparing dinner when I heard Malik’s key turning in the lock. I added a pinch of salt to the shrimp.

“Hey, roomie.” Malik stood in the doorway, pulling off his tie. “Something is smelling good up in here.”

“I’m making garlic shrimp and rice.”

“Damn and a brother’s starving, too.”

“There’s more than enough for both of us. It’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

“Okay. I’m going to take a quick shower.”

I made a tossed salad and then set the table for two. I usually prepared enough food for Malik when I cooked, but our schedules were so different, we seldom ate together. After my day of back-to-back meetings, I was in the mood to throw down in the kitchen. I needed some comfort food. I grabbed my potholder and pulled a pan of hot cornbread from the oven. I slathered the golden brown top with butter and then cut it into hefty squares.

Malik wandered back into the kitchen barefoot, wearing an old T-shirt and a pair of sweats, his short, curly hair still damp. He plated the salad and went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Merlot. “Do you want wine with your dinner?”

I nodded. Malik reached into the cabinet and retrieved glasses. I scooped steaming spoonfuls of yellow rice into two bowls and ladled on generous portions of shrimp and garlic sauce. I carried the bowls to the table while Malik poured the wine.

We both sat at the table, said silent blessings and commenced to eating.

“I’m glad you cooked. I was going to run out for Chinese food.”

“How much of that can you eat? Don’t any of your women cook for you?”

“We don’t have those kinds of arrangements, Mel.”

“Since when is a meal an arrangement?”

“It’s simple. The women I see know that I’m not down for anything serious. The more we keep it casual, the better. Once a woman
starts preparing meals and doing girlfriend-type things for you, then she starts expecting you to be her man.”

“But you miss out on so many things. What about spending time with someone special? Don’t you get lonely sometimes? Not being able to share dinner with someone? Not cuddling up to someone at night?”

“That’s what I have you for.”

I rolled my eyes. “Will you be serious?”

Malik laughed. “Yeah, sometimes I want those things, but most times I don’t. I’m not ready for a commitment. There are too many things I want to do first.”

“Like what, more women?”

“Funny. No. Like start my own business.”

I stopped eating. “I didn’t know you wanted to do that.”

“No one does, except my dad, and now you. I’ve been working on my business plan and scouting out locations for my office.”

“I had no idea.”

“There’s a lot more to me than you think, Mel.”

Malik explained how he felt stifled at his current job. Told me how, over the years, he had proven himself an irreplaceable asset and yet they had failed to recognize it until now. He was finally assigned a major client and was working on the project with a coworker named Kai.

“What was that I just saw?” I asked.

Malik looked over his shoulder. “What?”

“I saw something in your eyes when you mentioned Kai.”

“You better slow down on the wine.”

“I know what I saw, Malik. There was something in your eyes that was hardly professional when you were talking about her.”

“Damn. You don’t miss a thing.”

“No, I don’t.” I laughed. “So you obviously like this girl.”

“We’ve spent some time together.”

“Listen to you, trying to be all evasive. If you’re working on an account together, I know you spent time together. Have you asked her out yet?”

“We’ve been out.”

“Okay . . .and?”

“Mel, you and I live two drastically different lifestyles. You do the relationship thing and I don’t.”

“What does a relationship have to do with taking someone out on a date?”

“You expect me to engage in some olden-day courtship, but for me, life isn’t like that. Kai and I went out, we’ve already fucked, and since then we’ve fucked some more.”

My mouth fell open. I wasn’t prepared for that crass declaration. “You mean to tell me within a week, you already slept with her?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Your coworker?”

“Yup.”

“The woman you have to work with on an important project?”

“Yes, Mel.”

“Now what?”

“Now nothing. We continue to work together and when we’re in the mood, we play together.”

I watched Malik’s face, observed the glint in his eye and the subtle smile that graced his lips. He could play it cool if he wanted, but something was brewing. I’d let it go for now. “I’m sure you know what you’re doing, but be careful. You know what they say about the dangers of dating coworkers.”

“For the record, I wouldn’t call what we’re doing dating. And as a black man, there are a hell of a lot more dangers for me to be concerned about.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

Malik refilled my glass while I fixed him another serving of shrimp and rice. I drank my Merlot, pondering our conversation. Malik was thirty-two years old. He wasn’t interested in a committed relationship because of his business aspirations. When would he be ready? Thirty-five? Forty? Fifty? How many men shared the same perception? What about the women who wanted more?

My eyes were transfixed on a spot on the table. Malik waved his hand in front of my face. I refocused on him. “Do you ever plan on getting married?”

“If I meet the right woman. I’m not anti-marriage; right now, I’m just pro-career.”

“Can’t you have both?”

Malik shook his head. “Women get accustomed to spending a certain amount of time with their man. I have more time to spend with someone now because I’m working for Newport and Donner. Once I start my own agency, my time is going to be severely limited—which equates to instant trouble. The same woman that was living in bliss and completely happy with the relationship will be complaining that her man is never around. Whining that he doesn’t have time for her. When all along this man is out there busting his hump trying to do something positive, to make a better life for himself. I’m not going to put myself in that predicament.”

When I met Ellis, he was already well-established, his lifestyle set. Admittedly, I accepted his schedule, but the desire to have more time together was still there. Malik was fooling himself. Perhaps the woman wouldn’t speak up or complain because she was aware of his lack of accessibility from the beginning, but there are bound to be repercussions when a woman is unfulfilled on any level.

“What about you? Are you planning to marry Ellis?”

“If he asks me.”

“You won’t be happy.”

“Why would you say that?”

“That’s not the life you want.”

“Since when are you an expert on what I want?”

“I know what you need.”

I ignored Malik’s smirking face across the table and dared to ask the question. “What do I need, Malik?”

He leaned forward and poured more wine in my glass. “I think we both know the answer to that.”

My face grew warm. I cleared my throat. “You ventured to make such a bold comment. Tell me what I need.”

“Two things. To loosen up and an open mind.” Malik got up and started clearing the table.

I turned in my chair to face him. “That’s not what you were going to say.”

“Yes, it was.”

“I can tell you were thinking something else.”

A fleeting smile touched Malik’s lips. He turned around and began washing the dishes. If he was thinking something different, he wasn’t going to tell me. Maybe he was trying to leave it to my imagination to figure out what he meant.

I
rushed home from the office to get ready for dinner with Ellis and his mother. She was hosting an intimate dinner party at her Fifth Avenue penthouse apartment. Ellis was sending a car service to pick me up at seven. I had been to enough of his mother’s events to know the appropriate attire. I pulled my little black Michael Kors dress from the closet and carried it to the bathroom. I wanted the steam from the shower to knock out any wrinkles in the fabric. I gave myself a pep talk while I lathered up. I would not let Ellis’s mother get to me tonight. Even if she worked my nerves, I would be as sweet as candy.

I performed a final inspection in the full-length mirror on my wall. Hair styled in a tight chignon, dress flatteringly showcasing my curves without being tight, sheer black stockings, three-inch heels and my small beaded bag. Almost perfect. I fished my diamond studs from my jewelry box and placed them in my ears. Perfect.

I turned off my bedroom light and went to the living room to wait for the car service. My stomach was a bit unsettled, a side effect of spending the evening outside of my comfort zone. When Ellis’s father was alive, he would compensate for his wife’s uppity behavior. I could always count on him to be warm and inviting. We would discuss a range of issues from the state of the black community to White House politics to sports. He would inquire about my business and even referred a few of his colleagues as
clients. It was a pleasure to be around him; I looked forward to our discussions. His wife, on the other hand, had one favorite topic—what was going on in her world.

The driver called up to let me know he was outside. I slipped into my mink, a Christmas gift from Ellis, then locked the door behind me. A town car waited at the curb. I had to tell Ellis, in the beginning of our relationship, not to send limousines to pick me up. If we were traveling together that was one thing, but when I was riding alone, I preferred not to be so pretentious. Besides, I felt silly having that much car to myself. It took some time, but he finally relented and obeyed my wishes.

I arrived at my destination faster than I would have liked. I checked my face in my compact before we stopped in front of the luxury apartment building. I placed a tip in the driver’s hand as he helped me exit the town car. A doorman dressed in a black suit with a jacket resembling that of the leader of a marching band, held the door to the lobby open as I passed. I walked over to the gentleman sitting at the desk in front of the elevator bank. I gave him my name and he granted me access to the elevator strictly reserved for the penthouse.

Caroline, the Harlow family maid for more than three decades, greeted me as I stepped off the elevator into the foyer.

“Good evening, Ms. Melina,” she said.

“How are you, Caroline?”

“Just fine—”

“Lina, you’re right on time. Cocktails and hors d’oeuvres are just being served,” Ellis said, walking over to us. He kissed me on the cheek and then helped me with my mink, handing it to Caroline. He grabbed my hand and whisked me into the study. I quickly surveyed the room. A small party of eight, including myself and Ellis. I recognized Ellis’s godparents from his father’s funeral and had met his mother’s best friend Vivian and her husband
Joseph at prior dinner parties. I was not familiar with the other gentleman in the room. Daniella, Ellis’s sister, was nowhere in sight. Light music played in the background. Ellis led me over to his mother, standing next to the fireplace.

She excused herself from her conversation and gave me a brusque hug. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it, dear.”

I air-kissed both of her cheeks. “There was a bit of traffic on the way over,” I lied.

She walked in a circle around me. “Aren’t you just stunning?”

My smile mimicked her tone. “Thank you, Bebe.”

Bebe slipped her arm around my waist and walked me over to the bar that was set up in the far corner of the room. I looked back at Ellis, who seemed oblivious to the fact that I was being lured away.

“I’ll have a mineral water,” she said to the bartender. “What are you drinking, dear?”

“The same.”

“Come now, have a cocktail. What’s the point of attending a party if you don’t have a drink or two?”

I reminded myself to play nice. “I’ll have a martini.”

The bartender handed me the drink. He smiled politely and then clasped his hands in front of him, waiting for his next order. I noted his uniform—black slacks with a crisp white jacket and a bowtie—and the way he unassumingly stepped back a few paces to remove himself from our conversation. I could only imagine the discussions he’d overheard.