by K. L. Brady
To think she once loved Cody, a man she now wanted to annihilate. A time existed when the passion between them consumed her mind and body. They had a rhythm better than clockwork. They'd survived the depths of hell and despair, leaning on one another as they endured the losses of grandparents and a mother. They were connected through love and survival. They were balms to each other in times of trouble. They were everything to one another...and then nothing.
Cody had moved on to a new someone, and now so should she.
Except Kyle was no ordinary someone, no ordinary man. He displayed old school mannerisms in a modern time.
He exposed his brand of gentleman in the little things. He cared about the details, like maneuvering her around puddles to spare her feet the sloshing soaks, saving her from sniffles and colds. He also kept post on her street side to protect her from the splash of passing vehicles.
During their revealing and chatty stroll, the rain, the pangs in her stomach, even Cody became inconsequential. She was hungry but not for anything she'd order from a menu.
Her resistance to the possibility of a future with Kyle weakened as she ceded control and allowed him to lead them along the cobblestone walkway to their next location. With every step they took, tiny breaches formed in the barriers she'd built around her heart forced her fortress to crumble and tumble. But she realized she'd forgotten to ask one very important question.
"Uh, exactly where are we going?"
"We're going to eat. Food,” he replied with a wink. "I want to spoil you, if that's okay. I've watched you from afar for years, always taking care of others, always putting your team first. I'd like to be the one who helps you put yourself first,” he said with a wink.
Me first. That's something new and different.
She wondered how he could deliver such knee-shaking sexy winks. Must've been the lashes. Also, he'd said nothing but the truth. She'd prioritized everyone else's needs over her own. Kyle helped her see what she really wanted: dinner and Keep It Real Cards, in that order.
"The perfect spot's up the block."
"I can't wait."
A few steps later, Tessa wish they'd arrived someplace else. Anywhere but here. Her panic set in—hard and fast. All the air left her lungs as she gasped. "This is...this is Ruth Chris."
"Wow. That's not quite the reaction I expected. I was aiming for something more along the lines of yum or a thumbs-up," Kyle said. He stopped in his tracks and peered into her eyes. "It's not the prime rib, is it?" She didn't see him or hear his voice. "Hello? You hate it. Who doesn't love steak and potatoes?"
"Potatoes." She'd drifted off but snapped back to the present. "Oh, I'm sorry. Here is fine, exactly what I needed. Something to stick to my ribs."
In her peripheral vision, she caught him leaning to catch a glance of her backside, as they entered the vestibule. He allowed her to enter first. "And hopefully those hips," he mumbled in a sexy tone, continuing from her ‘stick to my rib’ comment. Then he added a lustful grunt. "Mhm!"
Her ears warmed and, from the inside out, she glowed red from blushing. Ruth's posh, modern decor appeared dark under the low, iridescent lighting. Polished cherry wood tables covered in linen and topped with china and mini lamps flanked the bar, but her eyes searched for one spot—the spot.
Just walking inside required more strength than she believed she possessed.
She managed the feat by convincing herself that of all the seats in the entire restaurant chances were slim that they'd wind up at "the" table.
Yet, here they were—headed straight toward it, the one with the perfect view of the city lights, the spot where it all happened.
The one spot she hoped never to see again. The place she would always remember but wished she could forget.
"Is this okay?" the waitress asked. Kyle echoed her server's question, probably sensing her reticence.
"It's okay." She stretched her tightened lips into a thin smile and lied, "This will be fine."
It wasn't, and the end of dinner couldn't come soon enough. Only then would she be fine again. She had a dragon to slay to build any semblance of a relationship with Kyle. There was no better place, she supposed.
Tessa had barely breathed in the scent of au jus before the waitress returned bearing hot crusty bread and took their orders. Kyle kept a watchful eye on her, the gentleman he was.
"Are you sure you want to stay here for dinner? This night hasn't gone as planned, certainly not as I planned. I can take you home if you'd like."
She struggled to pull herself from the past that surrounded her. She stormed away from Cody at ThaiPhoon only to find him here, again—the best of him and the worst of him. A vision of Chandra snapped her out of her thoughts, and Kyle’s voice broke through the fog.
"I want to stay here. You couldn't be more perfect tonight. I just wasn't expecting Cody to show up."
"Me, either. He told me you guys have some history."
"The acquisition scraped the scab off of an old wound. Rest assured, in this case, history will not repeat," she said. "I'm a bit loopy because I'm famished. I'll recover quickly after I scarf a basket of bread and enjoy a nice bottle of wine."
"My superpowers are limited, but they can handle that."
"Just don't use 'the Force' to feed me," she said with a chuckle, calling back to his Storm Trooper outfit. The laugh broke the ice and eased them back into the comfort zone. So did Kyle's next move: placing the order for more bread and wine before excusing himself to the bathroom.
After taking in the beauty of his rear view, she turned her focus to the city lights. In the slit of silence, her mind drifted to her last visit to Ruth Chris's, the moment everything changed between Cody and her.
The night had begun in pure perfection, starting with a night sky as clear as Tessa's love for Cody. With immense pride and anticipation, she had entered Ruth Chris on his arm.
For months, he'd promised to treat her to a pricey meal. He requested she dress in her Sunday's best. The time had come to celebrate. He'd received his first real paycheck from Hart after completing the first of many acquisition deals. The small companies would later combine to make Hart a publishing giant.
After plying her with prime rib and Patrón, he was ready to celebrate something bigger than the sale, unbeknownst to her.
"Now that I've got you right where I want you—"
"Where's that? Drunk and too fat to run?" she had asked.
"I was going to say satisfied. But, yes, I had to square you away first. You know how you are when you're hangry"—he’d begun—"anyway, what I wanted to say is that...we, you and I, we've been through so much together. You mean everything to me...the world."
Tessa assumed the syrupy speech was from a man trying to get lucky later. She wondered if she should tell him he could've stopped at the Patrón. He held his palm open like an invitation and she placed hers inside his to accept.
"As you know, we had a big win this week."
"We? No, baby. That was all you," Tessa had said.
"I couldn't do it without you by my side. You make me feel like Superman, as if I can do anything, achieve anything. That's why I want you with me on the next leg of my journey."
"I'm sorry...my?'" Tessa asked. The conversation started with "we" and then shifted to "my" without so much as a pause or stammer. She continued, "I realize it's taken me some time to accept your whole commitment is more important than marriage concept, but—I thought we were in this journey together."
"We are...maybe my words aren't coming out right, but I'm hoping we can pivot a little," he’d said. "The thing is...after I sealed the deal on the acquisition, I accepted a new position—Senior Vice President of Hart Enterprises."
"Senior Vice...wow. That's...not exactly what we planned but—wow." She stumbled to find the right words to say. Only months ago, he groaned that he'd rather clean gum off the floors at Hart headquarters than accept a senior position. So, she didn't quite grasp the meaning of his speech. She squeezed his hand and forc
ed a smile. "That's a little more than a pivot. That's like a full one-eighty. But I'm happy for you, I mean if you are. I guess, I dunno, what does this mean for Sweet-Hard Cards?"
"Oh, we'll develop Sweet-Hart...eventually. As Senior VP, I'll have the power to establish a greeting card division, as we always dreamed."
"Well, yes, but...it won't be ours. It'll be Hart's. I'm not a Hart. I'm a Sweet."
He tightened his lips before exposing a thin smile. "See, that's what I want to talk to you about." He scooted his chair closer to hers and squeezed her hand. "My father, my entire family knows you're the most important person in my life, no matter how hard they try to pull us apart. If Uncle Brian hadn't started Sweet Media, we wouldn't be facing so much resistance from them. Sweet Media is the problem, not you."
"So, you're blaming him?" she’d asked.
"No, that's not it at all."
"Then what're you saying?"
Frankly, Tessa didn't need to know. Devon Hart held sway over his son to a degree that not even Cody yet realized.
Sweet Media wasn't the problem, either.
The righteous Devon Hart couldn't breathe if he didn't control his family, especially his eldest son. Mr. Hart had suppressed her father under his thumb and now Cody had succumbed to the same pressure. Only Cody seemed to forget their dream and embraced this new direction—or he'd been too blinded by money and power to recognize his father's manipulation.
Her heart broke a little. His love for her had given way to ambition.
He eased out of his seat, onto one knee, and pulled out a box. She'd never forget the Tiffany blue. Then he popped the top to reveal the heart-shaped diamond in a platinum setting.
She should've been elated, exploded from her chair and into his arms as she shouted a string of excited yesses.
But he'd spent a year convincing her they didn't need or want the commitment of marriage. The reversal not only shocked but confused her. What had motivated him to switch so abruptly? Furthermore, his whole "my journey" spiel excluded her and her dreams.
"Tessa, I need you to join me on my journey."
There he went again.
"I can't become the man I'm destined to be without you beside me, supporting me, and loving me. Spend the rest of your life with me. Please, give me the honor and privilege of being my wife."
His journey.
His life.
His wife?
A tiny taste of success had exposed his expectations and transformed the man she adored. How could she marry this stranger? Someone she no longer recognized? What would a big taste of success do to him? To them?
He offered his hand in marriage as a gift to her, as if inviting her to take a VIP seat in his cheerleading section. He made an offer he didn't believe she could refuse, but she viewed it as one that would force her round life into his square one.
She might accept a plan—how could she accept this plan?
A voice drew her out of her thoughts, the past, and back to where she needed to be—with possibility for the future.
"Hey!" Kyle said, waving his hand in her face in circular motion, jarring her out of her thoughts.
He startled her, made her jump. "There he is!" She forced some cheer into her voice, but she felt less than convincing. The warmth in his gaze said he viewed her differently.
"Didn't mean to scare you," Kyle said. "Looked like you were deep in thought. Anything you want to talk about? I'm a great listener."
She skirted that conversation like a rack in Prada.
"Don't you just love rainy nights? I never smile more than when I'm watching the drops fall," she said with a shrug. "My grandma used to have a country house with a tin roof. Rain showers poured music all over the house, like a lullaby. And she used to make these heavy quilts. Man, talk about some delicious sleep." She quieted. "Can you hear the music?"
"It's our song. I've heard it since the moment we met,” he replied.
She wanted to hold his hand, but something kept her from reaching for it.
"Raindrops cleanse, renew somehow." She smiled and her eyes brightened, both at the sight of him, and what was approaching from behind. "Ooh, the carbs and booze are here."
He poured her wine and served her several slices of bread slathered in butter. "Keep this up and you may just sell me on this Prince Charming act."
"It's not an act. And I'm only a prince when I visit Wakanda," he said with a chuckle.
He could be her Black Panther, anytime. Rawr!
"Here, with you, I'm just a man crushing on a pretty lady." His deep, sexy laugh played like rain on a tin roof. She could listen to him all night.
"Now, let's toast"—he continued—"to many more rainy nights...together."
Back in Georgetown, Tessa pushed the key in the lock of her townhome. She could feel the heat from Kyle's presence behind her. She opened the door and turned to her knight, a kind man who'd used charm and humor to transform a grim evening into a glorious reprieve from the madness.
"So, I had a wonderful time," she said.
"Wonderful?"
"Okay, well, eventful at the start. But then the rain and music...and then pretty amazing," she replied. "You sure know how to spoil a girl."
He pushed his body closer to hers and looked deeply into her eyes, keeping steady contact. He released an appreciative smile and winked. He'd gotten her attention, holding her hostage to his smoldering eyes and irresistible lips.
Her heartbeat quickened as he leaned in. She stood to her tiptoes and edged closer to allow him to cover her mouth with his, leaving her breathless, alive. Each body-part tingling, wanting.
This was the beginning of something wonderful.
She just wasn't quite sure what it was.
As they slowly parted, his warm gaze pierced her, and he left her with one final offering. "Amazing. Yes...you are."
Keep It Real Cards
A new job.
Congratulations!
Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time, we will reap if we do not give up. Galatians 6:9.
* * *
Let's Keep It Real—Whether it was your twerk or your werk, you finally earned a new title.
At least you’ll be working in the upright position from now on.
Cheers to you!
Chapter Seventeen
Cody
* * *
Cody had declared a silent war against Tessa and, using all of her words, she returned the favor. Hungover from the dinner debacle, Cody calculated his next move with her. He resisted his inclination to escalate the battle and wield his CEO powers to crush her, but the faint smell of defeat reminded him that if he'd made better choices they wouldn't have reached these contentious levels.
Cody approached Tessa's office door, tucking away the guns, and instead came bearing a proverbial olive branch. He'd braced himself for Tornado Tessa, but hoped her violent winds and rain had passed. They'd endured too many storms over the years. The time had come to recover and rebuild.
"Knock, knock." Holding a makeshift white flag—a #2 pencil, a sheet of copy-paper and a sloppy tape job—Cody pushed his hand through Tessa's door; she'd left it slightly ajar. He waved the peace signal from side to side hoping to catch her attention and maybe a chuckle.
As he waited for a sign of safe passage, he clenched his eyes shut. His murky actions and choices were his own, but he could've handled things better...differently.
He could've minded his business. He could've dismissed Uncle Brian's call, perhaps never picked up. He could have refused to write the check and kept his money in the bank. He could've convinced himself to be content with Chandra, the growing monotony of their routine, and her passive-aggressive bossiness.
He could've done all those things, but he didn't.
Despite the poor optics, he heeded the call, drained his cash flow, and acquired the company, knowing he’d need to appease the ungrateful owner who would curse him to the south side of hell for it.
Cody peered inside
in time to catch Tessa snorting at his peace offering. He couldn't tell whether she'd snickered or grunted like an angry bull. He took his chances and widened the gap until she acknowledged him.
Without a word or a smile, she waved him in and gave him "the hand" the second he cracked open his mouth.
"Door, please," she barked. Her tight-faced expression suggested she'd rather giftwrap her company in a pink bow than entertain his nonsense.
He closed the door and tipped to her guest chair, taking careful quiet steps.
“So you’re surrendering before I have an opportunity to lob my first shot—a classic Cody tactic." She smirked at the flag. "That strategy won't win you any battles with me.”
"If I were the coward you believe me to be, I'd be barricaded in the safety of my own office, not standing within right-hook distance inside yours."
"My right hook. At least you remember the important things."
"Yes, your right hook and your Chuck Taylors. How could I forget?"
"Are you here to finish the job?" She huffed and nodded. "Your latest attempt to murder me in cold blood failed."
He let out a frustrated breath and shook his head no. "First of all, maim, not murder. Second of all, not so much maim as get your attention."
"Congratulations. Mission accomplished. I'm short on time. Let's get to it. Chop. Chop."
"Listen, the last thing in this world that I want to do is to hurt you...or go to war."
"ThaiPhoon? That was a guided missile if I ever saw one. Lucky for me I learned what not to order."
"Okay. Yes, I was dead wrong for recommending ThaiPhoon to Kyle. But you had a slight case of food poisoning back then, you weren't going to die."
"You ever had food poisoning? There's no such thing as a slight case. It's the grim reaper's appetizer."
Cody burst out laughing. Only one person could make him lose it at a time like this. He quickly pulled himself together.
"So maybe you exploded...everywhere. I'm sorry. I didn't know you were allergic to shrimp. In my defense, I only recommended ThaiPhoon after he mentioned his plan to take you to Ruth Chris. It's...you know. Impulse overcame reason, I suppose."
