Before she could catch her breath, the two men were headed in her direction. Davis didn’t look happy. She could only begin to imagine what his brother may have had to say about her. She wasn’t sure what was coming or how she’d have to handle it. She took a deep breath and held on.
Davis moved to her side, an arm sliding possessively around her waist. His smile had returned, replacing the strife on his face just minutes earlier. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take so long.”
“It’s fine,” she said. She instinctively stepped closer to his side, sliding easily into his body heat. “Are you okay? You look frazzled.”
He shrugged. “I’m good,” he said unconvincingly.
Neema’s gaze shifted to the other man.
Davis continued. “Neema, I’d like you to meet my brother. This is Mingus. Mingus, this is my new friend, Neema Kamau.”
Neema gave him a nervous smile. “Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Have we met before?” Mingus questioned, his gaze narrowed ever so slightly. “You look familiar.”
She nodded. “Not officially, but you were at my family’s restaurant with your brother the other evening. I was working that night. You probably saw me there.”
Mingus gave her a nod. His expression was stoic, but something shimmered in his eyes. Something that exacerbated Neema’s already jittery nerves.
“We may have run into each other another time, too,” she said.
“My brother gets around, so anything is possible,” Davis interjected, oblivious to the rise of tension between the two.
Mingus didn’t say anything, his silence speaking volumes. Neema slowly smiled, her eyes still locked on his face.
“Neema and I were just headed out to get some dinner. Would you like to join us, big brother?”
Mingus shook his head. “I have to pass. I have work to do tonight. You two go have fun.” He gave his brother a fist bump. He gave her one last look. “I’m sure we’ll meet again, Neema. In fact, I’d bet on it,” he concluded before making an about-face.
Neema took another deep breath. Despite the Hail Mary that Mingus had just afforded her, she was suddenly feeling like her good time may have come to an abrupt end.
“We should be going, too,” Davis said, gesturing toward the door.
“Do you need to say goodbye to Gaia?”
“We’re good,” he replied, throwing a glance at the young woman who stood in the midst of admirers, explaining the why behind another painting. “I’ll give her a call in a day or two.”
“What about your paintings?”
“They’ll deliver them to my office when the show is done.”
Neema moved to the painting of Davis. The imagery was hauntingly beautiful. Gaia had captured his quiet spirit in the vibrant turquoise color. He was staring off into the distance, his expression contemplative and serious. Her affection for Davis was evident in every stroke. The reflection gave viewers pause and provoked conversation.
“It really is a beautiful painting,” Neema said. “I lost count of the people who wanted to buy it and were disappointed. Did you pose for it?”
“No,” Davis said with the shake of his head. “Gaia used an old photograph.”
“I really like her. She’s an amazing talent, and she’s very sweet.”
“She has moments,” he said, one eyebrow quirked. “But why don’t we get out of here? I’m ready to get something to eat.”
Neema smiled. “That sounds like a plan to me!”
Davis reached for her hand, holding tightly to her as they crossed the room and headed out the door.
* * *
Despite his best efforts, Davis was having a hard time focusing. He was wearing his emotion on his sleeve and he was certain Neema could read his angst. Things had started out smoothly at the gallery. Buying paintings for Balducci had been easier than he’d initially imagined, right up to the moment Ginger had brushed up against him to whisper in his ear.
He’d been shocked to see her there and he hadn’t done a good job hiding his surprise. He recalled their conversation, allowing it to play over and over again in his head. Ginger had leaned her body against his, standing so close that her perfume had burned his nostrils. She’d purposely teased him, dragging her manicured fingers down the length of his chest, and then she’d whispered in his ear.
“Don’t trust him,” she’d said. “Balducci doesn’t care about his daughter. He’s setting you both up.”
“What do you mean?” Davis had whispered back, concern rising like a tsunami about to crush a shoreline.
“Just be careful,” Ginger had reiterated. Then, like that, she was gone.
The entire exchange had left him looking like a deer in headlights. It had shaken him far more than he wanted to admit. Trying to maintain his composure had been challenging at best. Mingus stepping in had kept him from completely embarrassing himself. And now he couldn’t stop thinking about Ginger’s warning, a sense of foreboding knotting his intestines.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Neema was asking, pulling him from his thoughts.
They were sitting in a booth at Original Soul Vegetarian restaurant, the East 75th Street eatery being one of Neema’s favorites. She had recommended he try the battered tofu, down-home collard greens and corn bread. Davis hated that he couldn’t get out of his head to enjoy the meal and the company.
“I’m sorry, Neema. I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”
“You haven’t, but you look like you could use a friend right now.”
Davis gave her an appreciative smile. “Thank you, I just...it’s...well, I...” he stammered, not sure what he wanted to share or say. His encounter with Ginger had thrown him and he was finding it difficult to dismiss her warning.
Neema persisted. “Does this have something to do with your friend? The redhead from your dinner meeting the other night?”
“Her name’s Ginger. But we are not friends. I really don’t know her. We met for the first time at my meeting with Mr. Balducci.”
“Oh! It seemed like you two were well acquainted.”
“No, not at all. She’s was...well...” He turned a brilliant shade of red as he realized how it must have looked to everyone else in the room with Ginger up against him like they were lovers in a relationship. He suddenly felt like a complete and total jerk. “Neema, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I didn’t realize Ginger would be...” His voice fell off and he shook his head, unable to find the words to describe Ginger’s behavior. “I definitely didn’t mean to embarrass you, if I did,” he concluded.
Not that she would admit it, but Neema had been in her own feelings about the close encounter. Something like jealousy had swept through the pit of her stomach as she’d watched the two of them together. The other woman’s boldness wasn’t something she witnessed often, and it had been off-putting. In conjunction with her anxiety about his brother Mingus outing her, it was a wonder she was still standing, she thought.
“I wasn’t embarrassed,” Neema said aloud, “not for myself, anyway. But I could see that you weren’t comfortable.”
“I wasn’t, and I admit I probably didn’t handle it well.”
Neema giggled. “She’s definitely thrown you off your game. My grandmother once said that women of questionable virtue can easily take a man to his knees and, once there, him being able to get back on his feet becomes a challenge he won’t always win. I didn’t understand it then, but it’s starting to make more sense.”
Davis paused to give her comment some thought before he answered. “I imagine your grandmother probably had a lot of wisdom that she shared. Is she still living?”
“No. She passed a few years ago. My mother took up the mantle and now I get regular tidbits of wisdom from her.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your grandmother. I imagine she was
a very special lady,” he said, reaching across the table to hold her hand.
His touch was warm and gentle, and slightly disconcerting. Neema found herself staring at the length of his fingers as they slowly stroked hers. Heat simmered beneath his fingertips, sending waves of warmth through her body. She took a deep inhale of air and answered. “She was. And she would have liked you!”
“I have that kind of effect on mothers. They tend to like me a lot.” His smile was smugly teasing.
“I imagine they do!” Neema said, laughing heartily. “So why are you still single?”
Davis sat back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why am I still single? Good question!”
“Do you have a good answer?”
“I’m still single because I believe marriage is forever, and for me, forever requires the right woman. What’s your excuse?”
“I haven’t found the right man.”
“Then it’s a good thing we found each other when we did!” Davis said. He was grinning from ear to ear, his mood having shifted substantially.
Amusement flushed Neema’s face. “You’re quite the comedian, Mr. Black.”
Davis leaned forward, clasping both of her hands beneath his own. He stared into her eyes, his gaze sweeping her face. His tone dropped like a seductive breeze between them. “I’m very serious, Ms. Kamau. I like you. I like you a lot, and I’m excited to see where we can go with this relationship.”
Her breath caught in her chest and Neema had no words. She chuckled softly.
Me, too, she thought to herself. Me, too!
CHAPTER 7
“Hey,” Mingus said, startling Davis as he entered his home. His brother was sitting in Davis’s living room, his feet propped on the coffee table, a tumbler of bourbon in his hand. It was dark, only a faint stream of moonlight shining through the sliding-glass doors that led to the rear deck.
Surprised, Davis jumped, cussing loudly. “You just scared the crap out of me!” he snapped as he switched on a lamp, illuminating the room in white light. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Just checking on you. I also wanted to check your security. It’s seriously lacking, by the way.”
“I’ve never had reason to be concerned about my safety.”
“Someone shot at you the other night. I think it’s time to be concerned. I’ll send a team over tomorrow to secure the house. And you need to remember to turn on your alarm.”
Davis dropped into a leather recliner. “Yeah, whatever.”
“How was your date?”
“What date?” He gave his brother a look, not interested in the interrogation that he felt was coming.
“She’s cute.”
“She is. I think she’s absolutely gorgeous.”
“What do you know about her?”
“I know that I really like her and that we’re taking our time getting to know each other.”
Mingus went quiet, pulling his glass to his lips to sip on his beverage.
Davis could see his brother’s mind working, the gears in his head on overload. “What do you know?” he finally asked.
Mingus shrugged. “Nothing...yet.”
“But you think you know something?”
“I think you just need to be careful. There’s a lot in play right now and I’m not sure we know who all the players are.”
Davis took a deep breath. “Neema’s good people. She wouldn’t hurt me.”
“So, you trust her?”
“Obviously we’re still getting to know each other, but yeah, I do.”
“Okay.” Mingus refilled his glass from the bottle that sat on the coffee table. He took another slow sip.
“You don’t think I should?”
“Again, I think you just need to be careful.”
“What do you think I need to do about Ginger? She seemed insistent that I not trust Balducci. It’s got me concerned.”
“I’m working on that. Word on the street is that she’s risen quickly up the ranks in his organization. When he’s not giving orders, she is. He’s not making many moves these days that she doesn’t have her hands in. You might not remember, but she was part of the trafficking case that Armstrong and Danni broke last year. She got a sweet immunity deal to flip on Balducci’s son.”
“And he made her his number two?”
“I didn’t say it made sense.”
“So, what should I do? She said I need to be careful, but I’m not sure what I need to be concerned about.”
“Just be smart. Keep your eyes and ears open, and don’t take any unnecessary risks.”
“You sound like Mom and Dad now.”
Mingus shrugged. “Whatever! Just don’t do anything stupid.”
“Does Armstrong have anything on who shot up my door?”
“Nothing new that I’m aware of.”
Davis leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting against his thighs. He dropped his head into the palms of his hands, trying to make sense of what felt like nonsense. Whatever was going on felt so much like nothing. His agreement to help Balducci wasn’t supposed to be about anything but helping Gaia. His friend was ten grand richer and her father now owned four paintings of his grandson. Someone had shot at him and Davis didn’t have a clue why. Was it random? Just one more notch on the criminal belt that plagued the city of Chicago daily? Or had he been targeted? And if so, why? What he did know is that none of it made an ounce of sense.
Mingus seemed to read his mind. “We’ll figure it out,” he said as he got to his feet, leaving his glass on the table. He moved toward the front door.
Davis thought about Neema and the concern that had seeped from her eyes. She’d been genuinely worried about him, sensitive to his mood and determined to help him feel better even though she hadn’t had a clue what his problem was. She’d asked and he’d avoided her questions, unable to explain without violating the promise he’d made to others. He was becoming adept at being evasive, but keeping secrets was not how he wanted to start their relationship. Especially when he wasn’t doing anything wrong that really needed to be kept secret. At least, nothing that he was aware of.
He looked up at his brother. “I hope so, big brother. I really hope so.”
* * *
“I think I messed up,” Neema said, cutting her eyes toward Tiger. Her friend was watching a YouTube video on his cell phone, the duo taking their first break of the evening.
“What did you do?”
“I met someone. A really great guy.”
“I knew it!” Tiger exclaimed excitedly. “So, what did you do?”
“He thinks I’m a full-time waitress.”
“Why?”
“He has a high-profile position with the city and when I first met him, I thought there might be a story there. I kind of went undercover.”
“You lied to him.”
“I just didn’t tell him the whole truth.”
“And now you like him.”
“I do. I really like him. More than I ever expected to like him. I can actually see us being in a relationship.”
“Yep! You’ve messed up!”
“You aren’t much help.”
“So just come clean,” Tiger said.
“I’ve been thinking about that. Trying to figure out how to do it without seeming like a horrible person. Because I feel horrible.”
“How long have you two been seeing each other?”
“Not long. Not long at all.”
Tiger tossed her a look. “I’d just tell him. What harm can it do? At least you’re not married for five years with two kids and you have to tell him a secret you’ve been holding on to since the day you met. Now that would not be cool!”
Neema shrugged, not answering.
“Who is he?” Tiger questioned. “Is it someone I know?
”
“You don’t know him.”
“I bet I do. That’s why you don’t want to tell me.”
“Exactly.”
Tiger laughed. “Look, you know better than anyone that I don’t do relationships well. Hell, my marriage is only working because of Heather. She’s the glue that keeps us together. She tells me what to do and I do it. It works, and we’re both happy. At least, I’m happy and I think she’s happy. You should talk to her. Do that girlfriend thing you women like to do. She’ll confirm that you really screwed this one up and then give you great advice on how to fix it.”
“Maybe I will. I just know I need to make things right.”
“It’s not the new city clerk, is it? I heard he was single.”
Neema rolled her eyes skyward. “It’s not.”
“That district attorney with the unibrow?”
Neema laughed. “Not him, either.”
“That’s good. I don’t know if I could do a double date with him and that furry creature on his face.”
“You’re such a fool!”
“I’m honest,” he said. “Besides, if you’d just tell me, we wouldn’t have to play this game.”
“I’m not telling you, Tiger.”
“If it is the DA, I understand perfectly. I wouldn’t tell that, either.”
A call suddenly came in over the police scanner, a dispatcher announcing a domestic dispute and hostage situation. The two listened as Neema adjusted her seat belt and Tiger downed the last of his coffee. He started the ignition and pulled the car into traffic. “It’s that dude running for mayor, isn’t it?”
Neema shook her head. “I said I’m not telling.”
“Well, did you at least get a story?”
* * *
When Neema hadn’t been thinking about getting a story, she was trying to piece together a story. For three days, she’d worked the night shift, then spent the morning helping her parents prep the restaurant for the day. Right after lunch, she hustled from point to point seeking answers to the whys of Alexander Balducci and Davis Black. Everyone she talked to or questioned had nothing but good things to say about the alderman and with the exception of Davis’s father, no one could connect the two men to each other. Between her research and work, she searched out moments to talk to Davis.
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