A Champion's Proposal

by Tina Martin

  He licked his fingers, then said, “You’re right. I don’t want to miss out on a nice property because of a few hundred bucks. It is a ridiculous fee, though.”

  “I agree to a certain extent. Some associations are better than others.”

  “Do you live in an HOA community, Jemisha?”

  Jeez. Why had the way he said her name sounded so sensuous? She looked up at him, holding his gaze briefly. “No. From what I gather, they used to have one in the area and then it fell by the wayside.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “Yeah.” She smiled. “Lucky me.”

  He smiled, admiring her attentiveness to her work. He asked, “What drove you to this field of work?”

  “I’ve always enjoyed designing and redoing spaces. I think from there it grew into a love of looking at these beautiful houses and helping people buy their dream homes. It probably sounds weird but every time I tour a different house, I get a sense of excitement, almost like I’m the one moving in.”

  “That’s nice. It’s admirable for one to be dedicated to their work.”

  “Look at that—we agree on something.” Jemisha took a sip of wine.

  Mordecai raised his glass. “Hallelujah.”

  * * *

  Jemisha had successfully stuffed herself with riblets and steak fries. It was the kind of meal that could put a person to sleep instantly, not to mention the two glasses of wine she’d consumed. She tried to make her case that it was her turn to pay for the check, but Mordecai wasn’t having it. He’d took out a credit card and sent the waitress away with the billfold. When the waitress came back, he signed the receipt.

  Jemisha stood up, stretched and yawned audibly, so out of character for the otherwise by-the-book, uptight real estate agent, Mordecai thought. He stood up, took her hand into his. She didn’t try to snatch it away – another oddity he noticed. Maybe two glasses of Chardonnay had her a little too relaxed.

  “Are you good to drive?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she said squeezing his strong hand. “I only had two glasses of wine. Why wouldn’t I be, Champ?”

  Champ? Did she really just call him Champ? “You’re acting a lil’ strange right now.”

  “I’m not acting strange. I’m relaxed,” she sung. “Laid back and relaxed.”

  “I think you’re too relaxed. I’m calling you an Uber, baby.”

  “I don’t need an Uber, baby,” she said laughing and continuing toward her car after releasing his hand. “Thanks for dinner.”

  She hit the chirp to unlock the doors.

  “Then I’m following you home to make sure you get there safely.”

  “Oh, that won’t be necessary, Mordecai. Trust me. I’m fine.”

  “Maybe so, but it’ll give me peace of mind knowing you arrived safely.”

  She shrugged. “Whatevs. No sense in arguing with a determined man is there?”

  “No, it’s not.”

  Jemisha got into her car, starting it up immediately.

  He proceeded to get into his. This was actually happening. He was following her home. Now he knew he was feeling her. He had a strong will to make sure she made it home safely, even at an inconvenience to himself. She lived on the opposite side of town and honestly, he knew she wasn’t drunk. A lil’ buzzed, maybe, but not intoxicated. She was driving just fine, well until she flew across a speed bump, but other than that her driving was flawless. Just like her…

  At her house, he got out of his car and followed her to the door.

  “See, I told you I was good to drive.”

  “You ran off the road a few times,” he teased.

  She laughed. “I did not.”

  “Nah, I’m kidding but you sure tore up that speed bump something awful.”

  “That’s how I always drive over speed bumps for your information.”

  “Now I see why your license plate is hanging off the back.”

  She chuckled. “Hush, Mordecai.”

  “I thought for sure it would go flying off when you smashed that speed bump.” He laughed.

  “You’re silly.”

  “And you like it, don’t you?”

  “No,” she responded, smiling. “Anyway, I’m going to go get comfortable and relax for the rest of the evening. Thanks for dinner. I think I have a better idea of what you need in a house now.”

  “So, I can expect you’ll have more houses for me to check out on Monday?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I’ll be waiting for your call.”

  “Or email.”

  “Or both,” he said.

  Jemisha unlocked the door. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight,” he said, glancing at lips he wanted so desperately to kiss, but practiced patience – a hard thing to do when he’d so easily gotten whatever he wanted from whoever he wanted. He was finding out though that when the woman was worth it, patience was a must.

  All in due time, he thought as he sat in his car, then backed out onto the street.

  What an evening.

  He had a chance to look at houses, feeling a level of excitement. He was taking steps to advance his life. In the process, he’d learned some things about Jemisha. She was serious about her job but taken out of the work setting, she was more laid back. It was the laid back version he could relate to the most. It was the side of her he could easily get to know. But there were so many things about her he wanted to find out and soon. Like, why was she single? A woman as smart and gorgeous as her surely would’ve been snatched up by now, right? And how was she doing with being away from her family and running a business in another city? Another state? And most importantly – how could he get her to open up to him without coming on too strong? He didn’t want to run her off or do anything to damage their business relationship. He only wanted her to help him find a house. No one else would do. Therefore, he had to tread softly.

  Chapter 9

  It was never a good sign when she woke up with a headache. After she got home last night, she’d taken a hot bubble bath, lit some candles and sipped on more wine. She was convinced the three glasses of wine were the source of her headache.

  Hoping hot coffee would help, she showered and then sat at her kitchen table, taking small sips. Her dinner with Mordecai immediately came to her mind. His smile. Playfulness. That dimple – lawd, that dimple! She gripped her coffee cup thinking about how his eyes bounced from her eyes to her lips last night when he made sure she’d arrived home safely. She’d told him goodnight just to get away and breathe. And even as she laid back in a bathtub full of warm water and bubbles last night, he was all she could think about.

  And now her mind was occupied with more thoughts of him. What were his Saturdays like? Where did he go after they parted ways last night? Did he go home? Or was he out clubbing? Picking up women? Blinding them with his superb smile and unmatched charm?

  Ugh. Why was she even thinking about him?

  Probably because she actually had a good time with him again. Yesterday, she was living freely and having a good time – not punishing herself for the actions of her ex. But the cautious side told her she was being reeled in again – fooled by a man who would be no good for her. A man who didn’t know how to be careful with a woman’s fragile heart. As much as she enjoyed spending time with him, she knew she needed to be cautious – to reestablish their working relationship somehow.

  She tapped her fingertips on the wooden tabletop. What to do?

  Her cell phone intruded on the pitiful morning strategizing session. She was already rolling her eyes and sighing heavily before she looked at the phone, answering with a lazy, “Hello.”

  “Good morning, darling. How are you doing this fine morning?”

  Now she wished she’d glanced at the display before answering. That way she could avoid another beat-down session from her mother.

  Goodness…..

  She loved her mother dearly, but she’d been sliding some shots in lately about Jemisha’s decisions. She claimed to be supp
ortive, telling Jemisha how she should follow her dreams and whatnot but when that dream involved moving to another state, her tune changed. She’d been calling ever since just to see if she was, in her words, making it, or if she needed to come running back home. Mama Rayford would be all too welcoming.

  “I’m fine, Mom. How are you?”

  “I’m doing good, but you don’t sound like you’re doing all that well, honey.”

  Jemisha frowned. “You got that from a simple question?”

  “Jemisha, you know I can read you like a book. Plus, I can hear the inflection in your voice.”

  Jemisha internalized a sigh and upped her demeanor to a more cheery tone when she said, “I’m doing great, Ma.”

  “Did you sell any houses last week?”

  “No, but I picked up an eager client.”

  “Umph,” her mother grumbled. “One client…”

  “Yes—better than zero clients.”

  “It ain’t that much better. You know the door is always open if you need to pack up and come on back home—where you belong.”

  There she goes with that again…

  “Sweetheart, cut her some slack. Let me see this phone,” she heard her father say to her mother. “Hey, Misha.”

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “You gotta excuse your mother. She’s still hoping you come back.”

  “I know. I just wish she wouldn’t wish for me to fail. I need all the support I can get right now.”

  “She doesn’t want you to fail. She only wants you back here with us. She loves you, dear. We both do.”

  “I know. How are you, Dad?”

  “I’m making it.”

  “Are you still working on the boat?” she asked. A few months before she moved, her father had purchased an old boat that he was restoring. It was something to keep him busy. If only her mother could find something to occupy her time.

  “Yes. The boat is coming along fine. I’m going to have your mother out on that thing in no time.”

  “Are you sure about that? Mom didn’t seem like she was all that excited about getting on a boat.”

  “She wasn’t, but she hasn’t been excited about anything since you left.”

  “She needs to find something to do with her time. Like, what about a book club, or bingo night? Oh, I got it! A sewing club. She likes to make those cute crochet blankets, doesn’t she?”

  “Yeah, and she hasn’t done that in a while. I’ll try to sweet-talk her into getting involved in that again.”

  “And you keep working on your boat, Dad. When I come back for a visit, I’ll take a ride with you?”

  “Okay, Misha. We’ll speak again soon. Love you.”

  “Love you back. Bye.”

  She rewarmed her coffee and was right back to thinking about Mordecai again.

  Ugh. Stop it, she chastised herself, but she couldn’t stop it. He’d told her some things about his father and mother. Now, she was intrigued. What went on in his life that made him the man that he was? How did he maintain enough focus to open two gyms if he was such a bad boy? How was his relationship with his mother? With his sisters? With Harding?

  When her phone rang again, she made sure to check the display this time before answering. She picked it up and said, “Hey, Savannah.”

  Savannah giggled. “Um, hey.”

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Because you sound like you’ve been dragged over the hills and through the woods? You alright?”

  “Jeez—you sound like my mother. I’m fine, well besides one slight problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I was out with Mordecai for dinner yesterday after I showed him a house and now I can’t stop thinking about him.”

  “Mmm hmm…I knew this would happen. I knew it!”

  “You knew what was going to happen?”

  “That you’d fall for Mordecai.”

  “Who’s falling for Mordecai?” Harding asked in the background.

  “You better not tell Harding nothing,” Jemisha said between clenched teeth.

  Savannah laughed again. “Look—I told you it was going to be difficult to avoid him since you’re basically holding his hand throughout this home-buying process. Why don’t you just set those silly lil’ rules of yours off to the side and actually see what my brother-in-law has to offer?”

  “Because he has nothing of substance to offer,” she said, knowing full well it wasn’t the truth. He had substance. He had a story. He had drive. Determination. Those were all good qualities for a man to have, weren’t they?

  “How do you know that, Misha? Because of what you heard?”

  “You said it yourself! He’s a ladies’ man.”

  “Well, I don’t know Mordecai all that well just because I’m married to his brother, so I can’t give you a true rundown of the man, but do you know who can?”

  “Who?”

  “You. You need to determine what kind of man he is for yourself. Don’t listen to what everyone else has to say. Form your own opinion.”

  It was as if a lightbulb had gone off in her head. Her eyes brightened. She’d conduct her own lil’ experiment with Mordecai.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey,” Jemisha said. “I’m still here.”

  “Why’d you get so quiet?”

  “Because you just gave me the perfect idea. I’m going to take your advice, Savannah. I’ll determine what kind of man Mordecai really is.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “Easy. He acts like he’s feeling me, so I’ll use that to my advantage—give the playboy a run for his money.”

  “Again, by doing what?”

  “By conducting my own experiment. Forget the rules. The rules ain’t workin’ on him, anyway. The rules to Mordecai is like putting dead batteries in a flashlight—they just won’t work. But I know what will work. Experiments.”

  “What the heck are you talking about?”

  “I’m going to act a pure fool, and show Mordecai a new bummy version of me. That way, he’ll want to leave me alone. Ain’t gon be no more chasing the girl that has issues. Certainly, he can’t handle a woman who doesn’t have it all together like a plastic flippin’ Barbie doll who laughs at his every joke and blushes when he showers her with compliments.”

  “He’s showering you with—”

  “Hush, Savannah—I’m strategizing here.”

  Savannah laughed. “That’s what you call this?”

  “That’s what men like him want, right? Perfection. In some way, he thinks that’s what I am because I carry myself a certain way and have my own business. Now, it’s time to put on my game face. Operation Make-Him-Run is in full effect.”

  Savannah chuckled. “I can’t with you.”

  “What? It’s a good idea. That way, I get to see what he’s really made of.”

  “Sounds like to me, you done lost your mind.”

  “That’s exactly what Mordecai will think the next time he sees me,” Jemisha said rubbing her hands together. “This is going to be fun.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do. Give Harley a kiss for me. I have to get plottin’. Oh, and not a word of this to Harding. I can’t have nobody sabotaging my plan by giving Mordecai a heads up.”

  “Okay. I won’t say a word.”

  “I mean it. Not a single word, Savannah.”

  “Girl, I’m just going to pretend like this conversation never happened. A few days from now, you’ll be calling me in distress because this mess you done cooked up either ain’t working or has gotten out of hand.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Jemisha said then hung up the phone. She immediately logged into her laptop and said, “You want to see more houses, huh, buddy? I got some coming right up for ya.”

  Chapter 10

  “Something smells good up in here, Ma,” Mordecai said as he made his way to his mother’s kitchen. She was at the stove. Amira was sitting at the table, attentive to her phone.

  “Ay, put
the phone down at the dinner table, girl,” he said, teasing her.

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t come up in here barking orders.”

  He walked over to Amira, squeezed her shoulder then kissed his mother on the cheek as she stood at the stove.

  “Ah, man…don’t tell me you made my special mac and cheese.”

  “Your special mac and cheese?” Florence said, chuckling.

  “Yeah…the kind with the cornflake crumbs baked in it.”

  “That’s exactly what I made.”

  “I knew it was going to be a good day today,” he said. “I knew it!”

  It was a good day anyway because it was Sunday. He’d see Jemisha tomorrow. It was only a matter of time before she sent him an email with more houses to see and soon after, he’d talk her into hanging out with him again.

  “I know you didn’t wake up thinking it was going to be a good day just because Mama cooked some macaroni,” Amira said.

  “I didn’t, but I’m glad to find out she did, now stay out of my business, lil’ girl and put that phone down.”

  She paid him no mind and continued looking at her phone. Amira was thirty, six years younger than him, but it wouldn’t matter if she was six years older – Mordecai was extremely protective of his sisters. Since they never had a full-time father around to be that protector for them, he took on the role and even tried to assert himself and his opinions even though they were grown, capable women.

  Amira returned her attention to her phone as Florence took plates from the cabinet.

  “Ain’t this something…I got two big, grown children who are sitting right here and won’t even make the plates after I’ve been slaving over this stove all afternoon.”

  “Sorry, Ma,” Amira said jumping up. “I got it.”

  Mordecai applauded. “See all the good you can do when you put that phone down?”

  “You keep running your mouth, Mordecai, and you’re making your own plate.”

  “I don’t need a plate. All I need is that casserole dish.”

  “Oh, please. You wouldn’t eat all of that if you could. You might mess around and pop an ab out of place. Can’t have that, can you? Gotta keep the women thinking you’re about something.”