“You told me to call. To schedule a meeting with my father. Did you not mean it?”
“No! Yes! Of course! Yes, I did. I’m sorry!” He paused, taking a moment to stall the rise of nerves. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m glad you called, though.”
“My father is anxious to have that conversation with you.”
Davis chuckled softly, remembering the other man’s exuberance. “When is he available?”
“Are you able to meet with him tomorrow morning?”
“I can. Does ten o’clock work for him?”
“That would be perfect.”
“Will you be joining us?” Davis asked, a hint of hope in his tone.
There was a moment of hesitation as Neema seemed to ponder the question. “I’m not sure,” she finally answered. “I may have another commitment.”
Davis nodded, his head bobbing slightly even though she couldn’t see him through the phone line. “Maybe you’ll consider having dinner with me tomorrow night?” he asked.
“Dinner?” There was a wide sliver of surprise in her tone and her response sounded almost as unexpected as his question. “You want to have dinner?”
Davis chuckled. “Why not?”
“Because we don’t know each other like that.”
“But that’s how we get to know each other. Every great relationship starts with a first date!”
Neema laughed. “Who said anything about a date?”
Davis laughed with her. “We can call it a meeting if that will convince you to join me.”
“You’re rather brazen, aren’t you?”
“Actually, I’m very much an introvert and quite shy. But I come out of my shell when I need to, and I imagine I need to if I’m going to convince you to let me wine and dine you.”
“My father taught me to be wary of men with silk tongues.”
“Your father is a very smart man. And I think he likes me. I’d venture to say that he would approve of me taking his beautiful daughter to dinner and a movie. I could always ask him for his permission, if you prefer.”
Neema laughed again, heartily. “That won’t be necessary,” she gushed. “And who said anything about a movie, too?”
“Too soon?”
“You’re a funny man, Davis Black.”
“I have moments. And I really am a good guy, so give me an hour or two of your time and let me show you.”
“I’ll have to think about it,” she finally said.
“Is this a good number to reach you on?” Davis asked, eyeing the ten digits highlighted on his phone screen.
“Now you plan to stalk me?”
“No, not at all! It’s just in case I need to plead my case to convince you to say yes to dinner.”
Neema giggled. “Good day, Mr. Black!”
“It was a pleasure speaking with you, Ms. Kamau. I look forward to seeing you again soon!”
Disconnecting the call, Davis pumped a fist in the air. His day had started shakily but was quickly looking up. Neema’s melodic tone with the barest hint of an accent had been like the sweetest honey in his ears. And despite his initial fumbling, once he’d recovered from the surprise, the conversation had gone well.
As he started the engine, checking for traffic before pulling his car back onto the road, he didn’t pay any attention to the silver Mercedes that pulled in behind him, the redhead named Ginger sitting in the driver’s seat.
* * *
Neema couldn’t help thinking that working the night shift was like the kiss of death for her career. Stepping out from behind her desk to ride shotgun for eleven hours with Nicholas Toppo, an overnight reporter, was painful at best. Everyone called the popular nighttime news jock Tiger for his obsession with the game of golf, but he was more slothlike than anything else. Everything about the man was slow. He rarely walked with any sense of urgency, took forever to get to a punchline in his many stories and by hour three had worked Neema’s last good nerve because he talked nonstop. The police radio in the car chattered with static he often ignored for the Candy Crush game on his phone. For the life of her, Neema couldn’t begin to understand how he still had a job. Were she to work in the same manner, she would have been escorted to the exit door without so much as a polite farewell.
Despite his questionable work ethic, he had taught her a lot. They’d been partnered together many times previously. She’d gotten to know him well and considered him a good friend. He’d welcomed her into his home, introduced her to his family. His wife was a delight to know and the two often went shopping together. Neema didn’t have many female friends and enjoyed the camaraderie, the two women often laughing about Tiger and his antics. The couple had four children, three daughters and a son, who all called her “Auntie Neema.” He treated her like a little sister, and she trusted him, even when he did get on her nerves.
Since their night shift had started, they had caught an exclusive: the story of a carjacking gone awry. When that was done, they followed two gunshot victims to the hospital, made late-night calls to public information officers, chatted with witnesses and drank coffee like they were guzzling water.
She was grateful for the moment of silence when Tiger pulled into the parking lot of a 7-Eleven on Dearborn Street for a restroom break, the abundance of caffeine sidelining his colon. Neema made her own beeline for the women’s room. Once she and her bladder were well with each other, she purchased a large cup of coffee and a bag of Ruffles cheddar and sour cream potato chips. Returning to the car, she settled back in her seat for what would prove to be a lengthy wait.
Checking her phone, Neema saw that she had a multitude of incoming messages. A smile lifted her lips ever so slightly. Davis Black had left her one voice message and had sent her two text messages. He was persistent, she thought, amused by his jovial plea for her to say yes to having dinner with him.
Under different circumstances, she wondered if she would be as hesitant to reply. When she considered the news story she hoped to write, an exposé that might tarnish his good name and cast a light on his wrongdoings, she had to give serious thought to how that would play out if she started dating him. Not that she believed dinner would be a prelude to anything romantic between them. Because Neema wasn’t looking for romantic. “Not at all,” she said out loud as if she needed to convince herself. “This is all about me getting a story and making a mark in my career. Nothing more,” she stated as she looked around to see if anyone was watching her talk to herself.
She reached for the foam cup that rested in the cup holder and took a sip of coffee. The beverage was freshly brewed and hot. Besides, she thought, why would a man like Davis Black be interested in dating me? Neema shook her head. She laughed heartily. “’Cause I’m all that and a bag of chips!” she said aloud. “Dammit, that’s why!”
* * *
By the time Tiger returned to the car, his expression smug, Neema had started to doze. Startled from the trance she’d slowly slipped into, she gave him a wry stare, annoyance furrowing her brow.
“Did you have you a good nap, darling?” he said teasingly.
“I’m not your darling,” Neema snapped, noting the time. “What happened? I was starting to think you fell in.”
Tiger laughed. “Sometimes a man just needs a little quiet time with a magazine and the palm of his hand.”
Neema grimaced. “That’s just nasty!”
He pointed an index finger at her. “Because you have a dirty mind. I was talking about turning the pages.”
She rolled her eyes skyward.
“Oh, what? I bet now you want to go run and file a harassment complaint against me. I made a joke. I can’t help how you took it.”
“I took it how you intended it. Why are you men such pigs?”
He shrugged. “Not all of us. Just an occasional one or two, and usually it’s because we’re trying to hide
our own inadequacies.”
“You’re lucky we’re friends or I would file a complaint.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know why you don’t find me funny. Most people think I’m hilarious!”
“Most people don’t know you like I know you. So, don’t make jokes like that. Your locker room humor is best left in the locker room.”
He laughed. “So, what’s new with you? You’ve been oddly quiet tonight.”
“Like anyone can get a word in with you,” Neema quipped.
“Nah! I’m not going to take ownership of that. You have never had a problem having your say. That’s how I know something’s up with you. So, what is it?”
Neema shrugged. “Nothing’s changed. My life is as boring as ever.”
“You dating anyone?”
She shot him a chilly look.
Tiger laughed. “I only ask because Heather will ask me. Personally, I don’t much care if you’re making some poor guy’s life miserable. But that wife of mine will give me grief if I don’t ask and give her something when I get home.”
“I hate you!”
He blew her a kiss. “Right back atcha, my friend.”
“No, I’m not dating anyone,” she said.
She suddenly thought about Davis Black and his request to have dinner with her. She gasped. Loudly. Her cheeks flushed with heat and she could feel Tiger eyeing her intently.
His smile widened. “You don’t lie well. Who is he?”
“It’s no one. And I try not to lie at all, thank you very much.”
“There’s something you’re not telling,” he said, his tone ringing with amusement.
Neema changed the subject. “What do you know about Alexander Balducci?”
“Please, tell me you are not dating that criminal!”
“He was having dinner last night at my father’s restaurant. I was thinking there might be a story there.”
“Be careful, please. Balducci is notorious for his crimes, but he’s never been caught because he works very hard not to get his own hands dirty. The man is deadly, but no one will turn on him.”
“Why is that?”
“They’re scared. Balducci doesn’t play nice. I thought for sure he’d go down last year in that sex trafficking scandal. Everyone knew he had something to do with it, but one of his kids took all the blame.”
“I doubt his son took the blame. He could have just been guilty.”
“Trust me, rubbing Balducci the wrong way could get you hurt. That’s not a man you want to play games with. His kids won’t even roll over on him! So, why are you asking about him?”
“Just curious,” Neema answered. She thought briefly about sharing what she’d seen but decided against it. She didn’t have enough information to give any credibility to her suspicions. She also didn’t want to risk anyone trying to usurp her lead and steal her story, even if she did consider them a friend.
The police scanner suddenly crackled with a call coming in over the radio. Gunshots and a body near the downtown area required a heavy police presence. Neema tossed Tiger a quick look as he revved the car’s engine, spinning the vehicle out of the parking space. As they slid into traffic, her friend called her name.
“Yes?”
Tiger gave her a bright smile. “So, who is he? You know you can tell me!”
Neema laughed heartily and ignored the question.
CHAPTER 4
Davis was pacing the floor, barely able to contain his excitement. He was a good hour from his morning appointment with Adamu Kamau and hopeful that the man’s beautiful daughter would be joining them. She hadn’t answered any of his messages and he couldn’t help but think he had become a full-blown nuisance with his persistence.
It had been a good long while since any woman had captured his attention. Unlike his brothers, Davis was not as popular with the ladies as they were. Since high school, he’d bombed with the opposite sex more times than not. He was the brother who would get tongue-tied around women, even stumble over lines he’d practiced alone in front of the bathroom mirror.
His last relationship had survived all of six weeks. Fiona owned a chain of women’s clothing stores that catered to females who weren’t a size two. She’d been attractive, and bossy, and he’d been intrigued. Things had gone well between them right up until the moment he’d introduced her to Ellington.
They’d run into his family while dining out one evening and his brother had stopped by the table to say hello. Ellington had been ultra-charming, and it had taken all of ten minutes for Fiona to dismiss Davis from her life, hoping against all odds that his sibling would return her interest. She’d been obnoxious about it, flirting with his brother as if Davis weren’t even there. She’d thrown herself at Ellington. Hard. Davis’s only saving grace was the loyalty he and his siblings had for each other. Ellington had shut her down. Equally as hard. And that night had been the last time either of them had seen her.
Now, here he was, excited at the prospect of seeing Neema again. His excitement had manifested into nervous energy and he suddenly couldn’t sit still. He moved to the window to look out on the street. The day was overcast and the temperatures had dropped substantially. Despite the weather forecast that predicted a twenty percent chance of light rain, it felt like snow was in the air. A gust of wind blew debris across the street, a candy wrapper landing on a small patch of grass at the edge of the sidewalk.
Davis returned to his oversize desk; he had a ton of work that he could be doing. Starting with figuring out his schedule for the month. He already had two interviews on his calendar, desperately needing a new assistant. Then there was the town hall meeting for an incumbent senator, a ribbon-cutting for a new business opening, and the kindergarten fun run at the neighborhood elementary school. He also couldn’t forget his questionable art gallery jaunt to buy the requested artwork for Balducci. Between his responsibilities to the city and the hopes he had for his social agenda, his mother had called a family meeting. A gathering he had no intention of attending.
Davis loved his family and his mother was everything to him. But, admittedly, he was having a difficult time now that the dynamic of their family tree had shifted so drastically. He kept circling back to his mother having such a vicious secret that would never have come out had her back not been up against a wall. In Vegas, his brothers had joked that, despite them all being displaced in the family lineup, he was still the baby of the family. But now, being the eighth kid in line for the family inheritance instead of the seventh, his slice of the Black family pie had gotten a little slimmer.
He hadn’t found their teasing amusing. Not that he was at all concerned that his mother’s new son would somehow usurp his position in the family, but having held her in such high regard, everything about his mother’s secret now tarnished the gold pedestal he’d placed her on. He had never before felt that his mother was imperfect. Now, suddenly, the matriarch was as flawed as anyone else. Davis heaved a heavy sigh, suddenly feeling bad about the thoughts that had sprung into his head.
He reached for a folder atop his desk and began to shift through the paperwork inside. There were at least a dozen proposals that needed his attention, so he figured he would read until the Kamau family arrived. Reading specs would keep him focused and out of his feelings.
* * *
It was a few minutes past the ten o’clock hour when Neema and her father stepped through the door to Davis’s office. He stood abruptly, moving toward the entrance to greet them. Mr. Kamau was fussing, unhappy that they hadn’t arrived fifteen minutes earlier. An apology streamed past his lips as he rushed to shake Davis’s hand.
“No apology necessary, sir. I know that traffic can be a bear this time of the morning.”
“You are too kind,” Mr. Kamau stated. “My Neema said you would understand.”
Davis turned, locking gazes with the young woman. Her dus
ky orbs shimmered, the light dancing across her dark complexion. She wore a simple white blouse beneath a tailored navy-blue jacket with denim jeans. A vibrant orange-and-white scarf was draped stylishly around her neck and gold hoop earrings complemented her closely cropped hair.
She is the most beautiful woman, he thought.
“Good morning, Neema,” he said, his full lips lifted in a warm smile. He felt himself blush, suddenly embarrassed that he was feeling adolescent-giddy.
Neema smiled back. “Good morning.” Her soft tone was like a gentle brush of air against his ear. “It’s good to see you again.”
There was a moment of pause as the two stood staring at each other. Davis didn’t miss the look the patriarch was giving them as he glanced from one to the other, his eyebrows raised.
Davis cleared his throat. “Why don’t we have a seat?” He gestured toward the two upholstered chairs in front of his desk. “Can I offer either of you a cup of coffee?”
“No, thank you.” The two chimed in unison as they sat. Neema’s father reached a large hand out and patted his daughter’s shoulder.
Davis moved behind his desk. “So, Mr. Kamau, you said you were concerned about the drug activity on your street. Have you reported it to your local police precinct?”
“We have done that. Yes. And it has been much improved, although there are moments with these young boys who think that fast lifestyle is their only option. They are rude and disrespectful! They will sometimes cuss their own mothers. It is shameful! I believe that it is important we give them other options.”
“I agree, sir. It’s already been proved that positive social outlets allow young people to refocus their attention in a healthy manner. You may not be aware, but we have the Chicago Youth Centers here, which is dedicated to supporting at-risk youth in the city. There are currently six locations, one right here in Humboldt Park. They’re doing some amazing things with our kids.”
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