by Pamela Yaye
Jealousy crawled up Rashawn’s skin. It was hard hearing her talk about another man. Cursing himself for asking about her ex-boyfriend in the first place, he smoothed a hand over his goatee. “Sounds like he had it bad. What happened next?”
“We got engaged after graduation. Eric kept asking me to set a wedding date, but I wasn’t ready. I wanted to wait until I got my practice off the ground.”
“Did he get tired of waiting and split?”
“No, no, Eric would never do something like that.” Her lips trembled as she pushed the words out of her mouth. “He died two years ago of a brain aneurysm. I tried to give him CPR, but he was…he was already gone.”
“Damn.” Rashawn gathered her in his arms. “I’m a jerk. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s not your fault. How were you supposed to know what happened?” Yasmin brushed away her tears. Her family and friends were supportive, but there was something about being in Rashawn’s arms that quieted her soul. “I’m doing better now. I’ve come to terms with his passing and I don’t blame myself anymore.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I lost my best friend to gang violence and as much as I like to think I could’ve saved him, I couldn’t.” Rashawn lifted her chin and held her gaze. His respect for her was boundless. She was a fighter who bested every trouble as it came. Losing her fiancé had been a devastating loss, but she hadn’t let it destroy her. She had picked herself up, nursed her wounds and kept going. “If we have faith, we shouldn’t be afraid of death because it brings us closer to God.”
“That’s beautiful, Rashawn.”
“I heard someone say that at Culley’s funeral and it stuck with me.”
“I can’t believe I’m crying,” she said, lowering her eyes. “The two-year anniversary of his death was last week and I managed to get through the day without breaking down. I thought I was coping with everything okay, but sometimes I’m so sad, I just can’t hold it in.”
“Say no more.” Reassuring her with a smile, he tightened his grip around her waist. “I know how it is. I’m just glad I could be here for you.”
“Me, too.” She sat up but didn’t move out of his arms. “Thanks for listening, Rashawn. I really needed that.”
“Anytime, Doc.” Rashawn wore a small smile. What he had to tell her would boost her mood. Determined to put the sparkle back in her eyes, he said, “I bet you’re wondering what I have to tell you.”
“Not really.” Sniffling, she cleaned her face with the back of her hands. Thinking about Eric opened old wounds, but she enjoyed spending time with Rashawn. He had some kind of hold on her and it felt good being with him. “Actually, I forgot about it.”
“Good.”
“But, now that you mention it, I am curious.”
Rashawn reached into his back pocket, pulled out a manila envelope and handed it to her. “This is for you.” Reading the bewildered expression on her face, he said, “Don’t ask any questions, just open it.”
Yasmin did as she was told. Inside the envelope was a letter and two Pro Bowl tickets. Her mouth fell open. “Oh, my God!” The paper shook in her hands as she scanned the letter. “You…you got them!”
“I sure did.”
“B-but how?”
Rashawn shrugged. “I made some calls to the powers that be and told them about the community center. Told them all the good things that were happening down there and that we needed a donation.”
Her face came to life. “And that worked?”
“No. I had to beg like a convict before the parole board!” He chuckled lightly. “I wish I could’ve done more but—”
Interrupting him, she said, “Done more? Rashawn, this is amazing!” She didn’t have on her reading glasses, but managed to read the letter without difficulty. “It says here that guests will have press passes, arena access, a chance to meet the captains from both teams, signed jerseys and seats in the press box.” Yasmin broke off, too excited to continue. Raffling off this once-in-a-lifetime Pro Bowl package would not only help the community center reach its financial goal, but would put them above and beyond the target.
Overcome with gratitude, she flung her arms around his neck. “Rashawn, thank you so much! You don’t know how much this means to me and the kids at the center.”
“You’re wrong, I do.” Tonight, his admiration for Yasmin was boundless. She was passionate about the projects being developed at the center and had a host of ideas for how to make things better. “I’m glad I can help. It’s time I stopped complaining about what’s wrong with our community and started being part of the change.”
Yasmin pulled away, a radiant smile on her lips. “I feel like I should do something special for you. I mean, you’ve done so much for me…and the kids.”
His eyes bore down on her, robbing her of thought and speech. “I know something you could do.”
Her smile slipped. Why did men always ruin a perfectly good moment by making things sexual? Rashawn had come through for her and single-handedly ensured the success of the fund-raiser, but that didn’t mean she was going to sleep with him. If his donation came with strings, then she wasn’t interested. She didn’t appreciate what he was implying, but before she could set him straight, he said, “I know it’s short notice, but I’m taking my nieces and nephews to Magic Mountain tomorrow and I’d like it if you could come. They’re a handful, especially the twins, and I could use another set of eyes.”
A slow smile formed on her lips. Rashawn never ceased to amaze her. He was unpredictable and knew how to keep things interesting. Yasmin had plans to go shopping with her mom tomorrow, but she could always reschedule.
“I’d love to tag along.”
Rashawn helped Yasmin to her feet. “I had a good time.”
“Me too.”
“Are you for real or are you just saying that?”
“I’m serious.”
“Show me.”
She leaned over and pecked his cheek. “There. Now do you believe me?”
“How about another one, over to the right?”
Laughing, they resumed their walk, their arms wrapped tightly around each other.
Chapter 10
Rashawn slid open the van door. During the hour-long drive, he’d implored his nieces and nephews to behave when they reached the park, but he wanted to give them one last reminder. Every year, he brought the kids to Six Flags and every year, their disobedience resulted in the group leaving early. This year, he wanted things to be different. He wanted to hang out with Yasmin and let her see another side of him. A sensitive side. In his experience, nothing impressed a woman more than a man who was good with kids.
“Okay, gang, we’re here. We’re sticking together, so no one run off. It’s a huge park and I don’t want anyone to get lost. Or worse—” he glanced around the parking lot and dropping his voice to a spine-chilling whisper, he murmured “—kidnapped.”
Behind him, Yasmin cleared her throat.
One by one, the kids filed out of the van. Their voices bubbled with excitement as they sprinted toward the amusement park entrance.
Rashawn locked the doors, tucked the keys into his pocket and fell in step with Yasmin. He perused the multitude of thrill-seekers and immediately spotted his nieces and nephews. Anticipating the mass of visitors and not wanting to repeat what had happened last year, he’d bought neon-green shirts and had the logo Team Bishop splashed across the front and back. The girls had made a fuss about putting the shirts on over their sundresses, but Rashawn had insisted they wear them.
“Did you like my speech?”
“If you were trying to scare them into behaving, I’d say you probably achieved your goal. Using the word kidnapped is a bit extreme, don’t you think?”
“Nope. The world’s changed a lot since I was a kid. I just want them to be safe.”
“That’s understandable,” she conceded, pushing her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. Spotting the kids, Yasmin stifled a laugh. “Looks like I spoke too soon. The t
wins are trying to scale the fence!”
Cursing under his breath, he grabbed her hand and shouldered his way through the slow-moving crowd. High-pitched voices and squeals of terror pierced the air. The scent of hot dogs, caramel popcorn and roasted peanuts drifted on the afternoon breeze.
For the rest of the afternoon, Yasmin followed the Bishop family around Magic Mountain, amazed they had the energy to run in the scorching heat. Anna Belle and Porsha, the youngest of the brood, stuck to her side like glue. The six-year-old divas-in-training were more worried about messing up their hair than joining their cousins on the waterslides.
“Let’s go on the Gyro Drop,” Miguel suggested, dumping his empty drink container in the garbage. “My homeboys told me it’s the scariest ride in the park. I gotta check it out!”
Carlito raced ahead. He stopped in front of the gate and pointed to the sign. “It says anyone under sixteen must be accompanied by an adult.”
“Then I guess you can’t go,” Rashawn said, his voice firm.
“Please, Uncle? My boys will diss me if I tell them I didn’t go on the ride.”
Rashawn rumpled the twelve-year-old’s hair. “Sorry, Miguel. Maybe next time.”
Yasmin stepped forward. “The kids have been great today. They deserve a reward. You go on and I’ll stay with the younger ones.”
“Why don’t we all go?” Vincente Jr. suggested.
“Yay!”
“Awesome!”
“I want to go, too!”
“That’s a good idea,” Yasmin agreed. “It’s been years since I was here, but I remember the Gyro Drop being a real screamer. I’m in.”
Rashawn coughed. “I’ll stay behind. You know, in case something happens.”
Yasmin studied his face. As a therapist, she often had to look beyond the surface to find the truth, but the expression on Rashawn’s was one of all-out fear. He was sweating profusely and his eyes were lined with panic. Either he was scared of heights or he’d suddenly come down with a case of the flu. “Are you okay?” she asked, when he dragged a hand down the length of his face. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”
“Me? Naw, I’m fine.” Rashawn plucked at his T-shirt. “It’s hot out here, that’s all.” He didn’t mind swimming with the kids or losing money at arcade games, but he hated extreme rides, especially ones that catapulted participants fifty feet in the air. Rashawn didn’t want Yasmin to think he was soft, but he didn’t want to die, either.
“You’re not scared are you, uncle?” Miguel asked, staring up at him.
“Of an amusement park ride?” Chucking off the comment, he thumped a hand to his chest. “I’m undefeated, remember? A championship contender, no less. Trust me, I’ve tackled far scarier things.”
“Then it’s settled. We’re all going on the ride.” Yasmin counted out the necessary number of tickets and handed them to the operator.
Rashawn was bound to get sick, but he wasn’t about to punk out in front of Yasmin. If she could stomach the staggering height, so could he.
“Uncle, do they have those sick bags in case I puke?” Smirking, Carlito knocked elbows with Vincente Jr. “I don’t know if I can handle it. My knees are shaking!”
“Cut it out, you guys, or we won’t be going.” His doubts returned with a vengeance. Swallowing his fear, he glanced warily at the ride dubbed the Shot of Terror. The only way to save himself was to persuade one of the younger kids to back out. “Are you sure you want to go on this ride, girls? It looks pretty scary.” His voice cracked but he quickly recovered. “Once they strap us in, there’s no turning back.”
“Let’s go!” Porsha seized his hand and dragged him through the gate.
Twenty minutes later, Rashawn stumbled off the Gyro Drop, with a headache and an upset stomach. The kids asked if they could take a spin on the Ultimate Ferris Wheel and he managed a weak nod. He didn’t care what the kids did, as long as he didn’t have to participate. His eyes were out of focus and his mouth was dry. It took all of his effort to remain upright, but when Yasmin asked him what he thought of the ride, he said, “Loved it.”
“Really?” She clutched his arm. “Me, too! Let’s do it again!”
His jaw went slack and the little color he had left in his cheeks drained.
Laughing, she rubbed a hand across his back. “I’m just teasing you, Rashawn. One ride on the Gyro Drop is more than enough for me.”
“There it is. My secret is out. I’m scared of heights.”
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she told him. “Everyone’s afraid of something. It’s only human.”
“Really? What are you afraid of?”
Yasmin paused. Rashawn had proven to be trustworthy and she felt comfortable talking to him. They had shared an intimate moment last night at Food Fest, one that had brought them closer together and she felt they were on the threshold of something special. Something real. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“You’re silly.”
“And you’re stalling. Come on, what is it?”
“I’m scared of being home alone.”
“Really?”
Yasmin channeled her gaze. “When Imani’s not home, I double-check all the locks and windows at least five times before I go to bed. I wasn’t always this way, but after Eric died…” Her voice faded.
“You don’t have to worry about being alone anymore. You’ve got me now and I’m not going anywhere.” Rashawn stopped. He stared down at her, a tender look in his eyes. Aligning his head to the left, he skillfully and carefully dipped his tongue into her mouth. Her skin was warm and her body responsive. Oblivious to the activity around them, he enjoyed the sweet taste of her lips. Seconds passed, then minutes, with no end of the kiss in sight.
“Look! Uncle’s kissing Yasmin!”
Yasmin recognized Anna Belle’s squeaky voice. Embarrassed, she tried to break away but Rashawn wouldn’t release his hold. Nuzzling his face against the side of her neck, he buried his fingers in her hair. “That was…nice.” Like Usher, he had it bad, and wasn’t ashamed to admit it. “I’m feelin’ you in a big way, Doc.”
“I like you, too.”
“This is more than just like.”
Concealing her smile, she said, “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll have dinner with me tonight.”
“Okay.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Remembering they weren’t alone, he glanced over at his nieces and nephews. They were swiping change out of a wishing pond. “Let’s get out of here before these little deviants get into trouble!”
Over the next month, Yasmin divided her time between the office and the community center. When she wasn’t counseling patients, she was on the phone with the caterer, the decorating crew or administration. Costs for the event had ballooned and she had been ordered by the planning committee to rein in the budget. With only days left before the fund-raiser, stress levels were high and the patience of volunteers was running low.
Turning right onto Staler Avenue, Yasmin took a sip of her hazelnut coffee. She needed caffeine and lots of it. Between the last-minute problems that crept up at the center and her issues with Niobie, it was turning into another tiresome week. Her assistant was one miniskirt away from a pink slip and utterly clueless about how her actions were affecting the business. Clients came into A Better Way Counseling Services to have their emotional and psychological needs met and being attended to by a heavyset girl playing dress-up like a video vixen scared them off.
In the past three weeks, not only had Niobie started wearing less and complaining more, her productivity had begun to suffer, as well. Just that morning, she had showed up an hour late. She didn’t apologize for her tardiness and offered no explanation. Then, when she was leaving at the end of the day, she asked for Friday off. She suspected her son had an ear infection and wanted to take him to see their family doctor. To keep from losing her temper, Yasmin had continued reading
the Medical Report Journal and channeled positive thoughts. It was either that or reach across her desk and shake some sense into the twenty-three-year-old. Had Niobie dressed in the dark? What had she been thinking when she’d left her house that morning? A therapy clinic was no place for a see-through blouse, gaudy bracelets and clunky sandals.
Yasmin sighed, her sleep-deprived body suffused with tension. She didn’t have children, but she understood the challenges working mothers faced. Balancing career and family was tough. She didn’t mind giving her assistant the day off. What bothered her was Niobie’s penchant for tight tops, short skirts and fishnet stockings. Yasmin didn’t want to fire Niobie, but she was tired of her sashaying into the office dressed like it was happy hour. The single mom was actively searching for Mr. Right, but A Better Way Counseling Services was no place to make a love connection.
Stealing a glance at herself in the mirror, her thoughts turned to Rashawn. A slow, easy smile graced her lips. Just the thought of him made her heart flutter. She had hoped to see him last week, but her furious schedule had left her with little personal time. Rashawn had attended the Men of Initiative program, and according to the other volunteers, had made a splash with the kids when he gave them free tickets to his upcoming match.
Yasmin hadn’t had time to go out during the week, but when Rashawn had said he wanted to see her, she had agreed to meet him at City Bar Tampa for after-work drinks. It would be the first time they had seen each other since their trip to Magic Mountain. They talked every day, but it wasn’t the same as being face-to-face. On the phone, he wasn’t nearly as playful or flirtatious and she missed seeing him.
Yasmin flicked on her signal and pulled into the left lane. A sleek, black car with tinted windows cut in front of her. Slamming on her brakes, she narrowly missed plowing into the luxury car. Coffee splashed on her, blemishing her crisp white blazer. Annoyed, she smacked the horn, imagining it was the offender’s face. The driver gestured in the rearview mirror, infuriating her even more.
