by Pinki Parks
“Had a long night officer?” Keisha asked as she moved to a bar stool.
Hunter titled his head and once again Keisha was treated to his assessing and all-enveloping eyes. A lock of his hair slipped a smidgen away from his left eye and a smirk tugged at his lips, “You could say that.”
"I'd ask why but I'm afraid it would be bad for my mental health." Forcing her eyes away from his Keisha took a sip of her coffee and while moving to a nearby high table and a barstool asked, "How much time do you have left?"
“Enough.” Hunter replied succinctly, “What do you have in mind?”
Carefully prying the sleeve of her cup off Keisha asked, “Since you already pegged me as a ball-buster from the coffee I drink, I’d like to return the favor and asses you.”
Hunter’s top lip lifted to give her a glimpse of white teeth and a sharp canine. “I doubt you can but, sure, go ahead, do your worst.”
Keisha met his eyes and didn't look away, "You're drinking a triple espresso, laden with strong and potent caffeine, which means you want to be alert at all times. You use that energy to feed your enthusiasm and sometimes you fall into obsession. You're clever, imperious and a bit overbearing at times."
This time Hunter’s face took on a sly but delighted look, “You’ve actually caught my attention. Keep going, I’m actually amused.”
Lowering her eyes at his slightly condescending tone she continued, "You don't have any pity or sympathy for idiots and you certainly don't really stick to rules. If it comes to the test you will break all the rules to get what you need. You don't like to lose and you dictate how your life is to be run, not someone else, not your boss, not your lovers or even the government, am I on the right track?"
This time Hunter braced his arms an inch away from hers and allowed his tone to drop to a tone that originated from the depths of his throat, “Amazingly, yes.”
Trying hard to not give away her attraction from that husky tone away with a telling dry swallow Keisha took another drink from her cup, “And from the way you move, you are ex-army; but not normal cannon fodder, I’m hedging on Marines of Special Forces, which one is it?”
“Semper Fi,” Hunter said simply, “Enrolled in the Corps at eighteen, served two years on soil and one term in Iraq.”
Leveling her look she nodded, “I guessed.”
Hunter then swirled his cup and Keisha couldn't stop her eyes from latching onto the fingers of his hand and blinked in surprise, "Your nails are shiny, are they polished? I would have never pegged you as a metrosexual."
At that Hunter let out a loud and deeply amused laugh, “Hell no, I’m not, I’m just the unlucky bastard to inherit my mother’s nails, they have this weird natural shine. How did you know all that anyway?”
Keisha attempted to shrug, “I guessed.”
Green eyes rolled, “Don’t try to play me for a fool, it’s clear you know some psychology but since you’ve so eagerly bared all my skeletons, how about some turnabout and I bare yours; it’s only fair play.”
“Since you’ve already declared I’m a ball-buster,” Keisha added as she reached for the muffin and nibbled the crusty corner, “I’m all ears.”
Hunter’s eyes flicked to the corner of her lips and reached up and used his thumb to wipe a tiny crumb off from her cheek. The moment the callused skin of his finger touched her face made Keisha stifle a gasp. To her disappointment, instead of tasting the sweet crumb, he simply brushed his finger off.
"As an only child, you grew up with a certain sense of expectancy, gained from the achievements of your parents. You felt like you had something to live up to, a legacy to continue. Since you're into numbers I assume that you stuck to your mathematician father more than your model mother and you grew more interested in the sciences than the arts. You prefer realistic ideals than fantasy, things that are more utilitarian and useful than frilly trivialities."
“Hm,” Keisha hummed, “And what is your reasoning for that?”
"That luxurious off-road vehicle you drive," Hunter said without even looking out the window, "That hybrid is not a typical choice for a woman your age. You prefer things that last and if it has no practical meaning you don't even give it a second look. And you're probably more comfortable wielding a gun rather than a cooking pot; am I right?"
“You’re getting there,” Keisha acceded while breaking a corner from the muffin and nibbled at it; making sure to use the tip of her tongue to snag a crumble at the corner. It took strong control for her to not show her delight at how his nostrils flared at the flick of her tongue. “Go on.”
“You grew up with the ideology to be the best at whatever you put your hands to. You’re smart, very smart, but you’re humble enough to not show it. I bet you didn’t speak out much in class or when you did your answers were simplified and not laden with the complex words dancing around in the back of your mind.”
“Very good,” Keisha smiled while handing the nibbled muffin to him, “You get a prize.”
"No thank you," Hunter said evenly, "I don't eat sweets but you do which is a real dichotomy. You like strong coffee with strong alcohol with a hint of sweetness, which I assume is how you like your partners. Strong and self-assured as you are but capable of tapping into their, quote, ‘sweet and sensitive side'. You like someone smart who challenges you but isn't conceited about it."
Keisha had to bow to that, “Well done, again,”
Hunter’s took in a gleam, “To continue, you analyze everything around you and you compartmentalize everything in its neat little folder in the library in the back of your mind which manifests in how you use material things.”
Keisha's eyes narrowed a bit, "How do you know that?"
"Your condo," Hunter said simply while softly spinning his cup, "Not a thing was out of place, the couch's cushions were all turned at a thirty-three-degree angle to the corner- exactly."
“I’m organized,” Keisha shrugged, “Sue me.”
“You are…now,” Hunter assessed, “But I’m guessing that your earlier years you weren’t. I’m betting you took some risks in your life but they didn’t work. You got burned and this is why you don’t play poker or Russian roulette with your life and you prefer to plan everything three steps ahead.”
Those last words reached down into her psyche and dug up something she would have preferred stay buried. To her small embarrassment, the way she shifted her head to the side only made it clearer.
“Who was it?” Hunter asked casually even though his tone took on a dark edge, “…I’m betting it was some old son of a bitch boyfriend.”
“Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies,” Keisha replied evenly while blatantly avoiding his eyes. “So now that we’ve strayed off course and dug into matters that have no real bearing, let’s get to what does. Have you made any leads and is there anything your department would like me to hand over? Any records, anything before the men in black come for me?”
A small furrow marked Hunter’s forehead and Keisha knew that he was debating on calling her out on her blunt avoidance of the topic or not. Eventually, he went with discretion.
“The investigation is still in its fledgling stage so I doubt the MIB would show up at your doorstep and even though I can’t think of anything right now, I’m pretty positive we wouldn’t have to subpoena you for any records.”
Keisha gave him a tight smile for her answer and brushed a tendril of her hair behind an ear just as his cell phone rang.
Letting out an aggravated huff Hunter answered the phone with a succinct, “Blake.”
Busying herself with her coffee Keisha tried to ignore the troubling memories that Hunter had inadvertently brought up. Yes, he was right when he assumed an old flame had burned her but he didn’t need to know the gritty details.
When he finished his call, he shot her a look that Keisha fancied to be regretful.
“You have to go, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
Keisha n
odded, “Before you do, let me ask you a question; do you think I’m innocent of this?”
“Are you?” Hunter replied blankly.
The only thing she could do was to look at him.
“I have to go,” Hunter laughed softly, “we’ll keep in touch.”
Mustering a smile Keisha nodded, “Inevitably,”
As he walked away she couldn’t stop her eyes from following him; noting his strong and determined stride and feeling the absent yearn in the bottom of her gut when he was gone.
Turning back to her coffee and the half-eaten treat she reflected on the last few minutes.
It was scary, no not just scary; it was downright terrifying how accurately they had assessed each other. The cohesive conclusion was that they were both strong individuals who didn’t settle for mediocrity and that in itself was an attraction. Hunter’s style was blatant but hers was more reserved.
It didn't help either that pulsing tension between them was a present, invisible but potent pulse in the air. She was sure they had both felt it. For her part, she knew she had been drawn and she could only hope the dark and husky timbre of his voice meant the same.
Keisha wondered if on the highly unlikely chance they did get together, would their strong personalities clash with a destroying explosion or would it make their relationship a smoldering and enduring fire.
But she was getting ahead of herself; there was no way that was in the cards now. Swallowing around the arid dryness of her throat Keisha managed a bereft sigh and fiddled with her half-empty cup, “I’m about to play with fire again, aren’t I?”
Chapter 3
Clad in only a large t-shirt and her tiny blue boy shorts, Keisha meandered into her stainless-steel kitchen in the dimness of six thirty the next morning and went right to the cupboard.
Last night had been a rough one; she had suffered little to no sleep all through the night and when she did it drift off; her sleep was filled with unclear dreams. She had woken up feeling like she was staring into something she should know, something important that was just right in front of her, but for all the powers that be, she couldn’t come up with what that was.
And that really bothered her.
Finger combing through her hair as the percolator bubbled with the life-giving almost ambrosia fluid named coffee, she leaned heavily on her arms and sighed. God, things were so paradoxical right then; externally everything about her seemed fine but internally her carefully controlled life was upended.
For more than half a year now she had made herself to stick to a routine; a schedule which mainly consisted of work, work and more work with some downtime sprinkled in when she could get away with it. The last time she had a night out with her girlfriends was over three months ago and even worse, she hadn’t had sex in over six months.
It wasn’t for a lack of propositions though. Every time she set foot outside the blatant interest men showed her were so inviting but she didn’t have the time to indulge. Or, that was what she told herself.
She gave herself a host of reasons, things like she was too busy with work and that new clients were popping out from the woodwork and she had to cater to them or that the men who came her way had this problem or that one and lastly, she just wasn’t interested.
Once or twice she had contemplated having a no-strings-attached one-night stands but knew she'd hate herself for it the next morning. Keisha knew that she was the kind of person who valued the steady pleasure of a real relationship instead of a fleeting lust of one night.
Speaking of relationships, Keisha buried her head in her hands at the memory Hunter had dragged out of the back of her mind. The old boyfriend that she had seriously believed she had been in love with, in love with enough to marry: Bryce.
Bryce Henri Dubois, a suave, deep mocha-skinned man four years older than she was that had rocked her world for the seven months they had been together. A graduate of University of North Carolina Bryce was a structural engineer and a native of New Orleans with a level of intelligence than bordered on illegal.
Fresh out of college Keisha had been hypnotized by the way his smooth Cajun accent had drawled ‘ma cher’- his darling-, plus the mind-blowing sex they had, had only wrapped his web tighter around her.
Her twenty-two-year-old self, had been on the verge of pledging her life to him but it had all crashed when his wife had shown up on her doorstep.
Outraged and devastated Keisha had confronted him with screams and tears and even though Bryce had sworn on his mother’s grave that he and Renee were just married in name only, she had packed up and left.
Three months had passed with her still wallowing in pain and betrayal until she had come to her senses and snapped out of it. Her company had been in the beginning stages when she had been with Bryce and then, with her now free time, she had put all her energy into making the green bud bloom.
A year later she with tired but happy eyes had watched the words, ‘Shafie Incorporated,’ being placed on the list of accredited and growing brokerages in the state. From then on, just like Hunter had said- damn it- she had played it safe with the men she allowed into her life.
With the men after Bryce, she had kept a part of her, the most sensitive and vulnerable part, back from them. There was just this part of her that she wanted to keep safe, free from the hurt and pain of being with the wrong person. Logic told her that it was inevitable to not get hurt but Keisha wanted to spare herself from the agony of betrayal once more.
The smell of coffee permeated the air and she grabbed a cup off the rack and poured out the dark liquid into the cup. Mechanically spooning in creamer and sugar she looked around at the kitchen that by its level of cleanliness could rival a hospital’s surgery.
It was all clean silver lines and planes and every surface was daubed with antiseptic pine scent. Keisha couldn’t really remember the last time she had made a mess inside it. Once upon a time she had loved baking, cupcakes, puddings and even pies. But now she was so caught up with her work that the love had dissipated.
Sighing, she shoved that concern on a second-place shelf as she had more important issues to deal with. Mainly, who could have gone and set her up for such a huge fall? She knew that with the level of technology now available, it was easier than ever to steal someone’s identity and damage a person. Any card reader could do it too, but she was sure that every time she swiped her credit card it was with a secure portal so what the hell had happened?
Sipping the drink, she analyzed the situation. The best she could come up with was that someone had opened an account for her with the excuse of being a proxy but still, that someone had to have her documents; passport, driver’s license or social security card.
She was double sure that any online sites she used were legit, so what the hell had happened? Once again, the feeling from last night, the unsettling feeling that she was missing something obvious, was there again.
Scrubbing her weary face with one hand Keisha sincerely wished that she had a way she could click her heels thrice and to make this problem just disappear so she could move on with her life. Shooting a look at the clock she silently washed out the cup and then went to take a shower. She’d order her breakfast at the office.
Disrobed and under the lukewarm spray, it was hard to stay her mind from thinking about Hunter. Tilting her head upwards she bit her lip and forced down a groan. Her mind was conjuring Hunter's intense look and magnifying it. She imagined that deep consuming gaze locked on her body as he mentally stripped her bare.
She knew there was no half-and-half with that man. If he went to do something she knew that he would do it with all the intensity inside him. Work or play or even making love; Hunter wouldn’t stop until he reached perfection.
If it came to that, could she really survive that level of concentrated passion? She rested her hand on her lower stomach and felt the deep trembles inside. Maybe not but God, she wanted him.
She wanted him kissing her, him touching
her, him over her and him inside her; but sadly, that was a real long shot. So, for sanity sake, it was best to let the fantasy go for now.
Taking a deep and settling breath Keisha shut the water off and so was the burgeoning daydream cut off too.
In her wide bedroom, one of the two in her fifteen thousand square foot condo, she slipped on her silky undergarments, her work clothes- a navy skirt suit this time-, did her make-up and hair and in a few moments, she was out the door.
Her company was less than fifteen minutes’ drive away, as her condo was just on the outside of the trade center, the epicenter of the financial sector of Queen's Land.
The day was another balmy blue-skied day which normally gave an ambiance of peace and tranquility, so why was it that as she approached she felt an ominous feeling settle in the middle of her stomach?
Parking in her spot Keisha grabbed her handbag and briefcase and left the vehicle. From the entrance lobby, she took the small elevator to the first floor still fighting the troubling sensation.
She stepped out into the main working space and ran an apprehensive look over the whole room. Everything seemed in place, all her employees seemed settled enough and the air wasn’t heavy so why was she still feeling anxious?
Making her way to her office she, saying her greetings to some people, passed Lila’s empty station and wondered where her PA was. She got her answer soon enough as she opened the door to see the young woman standing at one of her large windows and twisting her hands.
Instantly, that ominous feeling tripled but Keisha controlled it and settled her bags on the desk, “Lilia, what’s wrong?”
The assistant's eyes were large and shone with a sheen of water behind her glasses and then, with a hushed and cracking voice spoke, "Keisha, I…this morning, I intercepted a call from your lawyers, Anderson and Associates saying that they have been notified by the DA office about a suit against you for money laundering."
