“Oh, hello, dear,” Bettye Goodwyn cooed and gave Jalila a dramatic kiss on the cheek.
Her father, God bless him, showed up at the dinner table in a suit and tie that he must have dusted off from his high-school-principal days. Too bad it was a little too tight after his retirement diet—i.e., a whole lot of all-you-can-eat buffets.
Jalila tried her best to hide her amusement, but when their normal meatloaf or lasagna dinner was replaced by some fancy French food her mother had never cooked before, Jalila excused herself from the table in order to have a good laugh in the bathroom.
Sidebar:
“So how do you feel about your daughter going on national television to find her soul mate?” Jon Krammer asks.
James and Bettye look at each other.
“Well,” Bettye says. “It is a little different. I have to admit I wasn’t too thrilled when she first told me.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s just not how we did things back in our day.”
James reaches over and covers his wife’s hand. “We just want Jalila to be happy,” he says. “And if this little experiment helps her find what she’s looking for then we’re behind her one hundred percent.”
Jalila smiled at her doting parents as the cameras rolled. Their happiness was so apparent it only deepened her desire to find the kind of love that they’d shared for thirty-five years. To her surprise an image of Keenan flashed before her eyes. She quickly shook it out of her head.
She wanted love…not lust.
The next day, Jalila was more prepared. She was up and dressed by 7:30 a.m., Cujo was in the backyard and she even had coffee made by the time the camera crew arrived. She was only dealing with half a crew because the other half was with Dontrell Smith, taping his preparations for today’s date.
Jalila didn’t know what was in store. Only that the date was going to last most of the day and well into the night. At noon, flowers were delivered and she had to do at least four different reaction takes before the director and Nitara were satisfied. Once that was done, she was finally allowed to open the note that came with the flowers.
“Hope you like water. Dress light,’” she read. Now what on earth did that mean?
At two o’clock, she found out. In all of her thirty years of living in Los Angeles, Jalila could honestly say that it had never occurred to her to go surfing. Something about playing in a polluted ocean with sharks didn’t quite tickle her fancy.
But today that was apparently about to change.
But Jalila wasn’t a fool. She didn’t have to be an Einstein to know that Dontrell chose to have their first date frolicking on the beach because he wanted to see her in a swimsuit.
When he picked her up, she was wearing an electric-blue bikini, a white sarong and heels.
“Oh, my…damn!” There was no need for a second take of Dontrell’s reaction.
“I assume that you like it?” Jalila asked, turning to give him a 360-degree view.
“What’s not to like?” He grinned and offered her his arm.
Sidebar:
“Man, when Jalila opened that door, my mouth just hit the ground,” a laughing Dontrell says into the camera. “I gotta hand it to her, she’s got a banging body. I think we look good together. Those other brothers don’t stand a chance next to me.”
Jalila slipped her arm around Dontrell’s bulging bicep and smiled openly at him. And though he was not at all hard on the eyes, in her mind she couldn’t stop comparing him to Keenan. Both men exuded an extraordinary amount of confidence and strength. However, Dontrell was a little more flashy, with his bulging muscles and formfitting clothes.
To be fair, Dontrell couldn’t have picked a more beautiful day to surf at Malibu. The sky was a blinding blue and the winds were a gentle caress. The camera crew took a few playful shots of Dontrell and Jalila walking on the beach, sometimes pretending that they were fascinated by something in the sky.
When it came time for her surfing lessons, Nitara produced a wet suit for Jalila to change into, and two new surfboards, made by some company who’d paid for advertising and product placement, were given to them.
“I don’t know about this,” Jalila said as she stood on the sandy beach with the water just high enough to cover her feet. “There are living things in there.”
Dontrell chuckled behind her. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” Holding his surfboard in one hand, he draped the other around her waist.
Despite his words, Jalila was anything but comforted, and the farther she crept into the ocean the more the frown on her face twisted in fear. The water was astonishingly cold and she kept thinking that something was crawling across her toes. It was gross and she was squealing like a teenager in a horror movie.
Dontrell apparently thought that she was adorable and loved that she kept clinging to him and bumping up against him. Eventually, she calmed down long enough for Dontrell to try to explain the tides and how they affected surfing. For beginners, it was best to surf at the lowest possible tide, which generally happened later in the day. But since she was with him, he promised to pay extra attention to her so that nothing would harm her.
When he delivered those words, his face was mere inches from hers. His eyes made it clear that he wanted to sneak a kiss, but Jalila demurely turned her head.
“Aaaaannndddd…cut!” The director, whose name Jalila couldn’t remember, waded out into the ocean in his own wet suit. “Let’s go back and hold the pose where you were staring into each other’s eyes. I think we can really work that with some music.”
Dontrell and Jalila nodded, but they were both clearly uncomfortable replaying—or faking—an extended intimate moment. The rest of the surfing lesson went from bad to worse or from funny to funnier, depending upon one’s point of view. Each time Jalila tried to follow Dontrell’s instructions on how to go from sitting to standing on her surfboard, she ended up doing some interesting backflips. These always resulted in her swallowing a mouthful of water or getting some nasty seaweed tangled in her hair. When Dontrell finally ended the lesson, Jalila nearly wept with joy.
Sidebar, camera one:
“I don’t know if she cared for the surfing too much,” Dontrell admits. “But she was a trooper. I’ll give her that.” He laughs. “I like a woman who’s willing to go outside her comfort zone. Take some risks. I’m really hoping that she’ll like the next part of our date. I’ve planned something really nice.”
Sidebar, camera two:
“I never want to see a surfboard again in my life,” Jalila says, pulling seaweed from her hair. “It’s not for me. It’s too dangerous. It’s gross. And there are living things crawling around your feet!” Jalila waves a finger straight at the camera. “Guys, just stick to walking on the beach. The women will love you for it. Do you see my hair? Now you know sistahs don’t like getting their hair wet!”
After a quick beach shower, a change into a long white summer dress and an emergency hair and makeup rescue, Jalila joined Dontrell for the next phase of their date. Turns out it, too, would be on the beach—a beach picnic. On a huge blanket, Dontrell had sprinkled rose petals. Beside it, he had dug a deep hole in the sand and lit a couple of fire logs.
The whole setup was beautiful. In the picnic basket were sandwiches, strawberries and even some marshmallows to roast over the open fire. Jalila was almost willing to forgive Dontrell for her horrible surfing lesson. However, after such an intense workout, she’d hoped for something a little more filling than sandwiches.
They quickly fell into easy conversation, but when the sun began to set, Jalila’s mind was transported to the sunset she’d watched with Keenan. She could almost taste those thick juicy steaks they’d shared, and instead of the light champagne she was drinking now, she craved the heavy tequila-laden margaritas she’d whipped up.
“Earth to Jalila,” Dontrell said.
“What?” She blinked and jerked her head toward him. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Yo
u zoned out on me,” he responded.
“It’s the sunset,” she admitted. “It’s my favorite time of day.”
He looked toward the sky. “Don’t be fooled by the colors. It’s just smog,” he said, killing the moment. “L.A. has the worst smog in America. If it wasn’t for the surfing I would have left this city a long time ago.”
Jalila loved L.A. “Where would you go?”
He shrugged. “Hmm. I don’t know. Maybe Florida or somewhere east.” He smiled at her. “Think you can see yourself in Florida?”
She shrugged, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “Florida is okay.”
He bobbed his head. “I’m looking at Miami to open my next club. They have nice beaches. And Lord knows, with a body like yours, you could put most of those hard-body babes to shame.”
She laughed at his exaggeration and decided to change the conversation. “So tell me something about you,” she said. “How come a man like you is still single in L.A.?”
He shrugged and took a long sip of his champagne. “I just haven’t found the right girl. You know, the one that’s hot enough to show off to your friends, yet sweet and innocent enough to take home to the parents.”
“Well, I don’t know about innocent.” She laughed.
“Don’t tell me that you’re one of those naughty girls.”
Jalila shook her head. “I didn’t say that either.”
Still smiling, Dontrell’s eyes narrowed on her. “Uh-huh. When was the last time you were with a man?”
“What?” She was suddenly acutely aware of the cameras.
“Ahh. Must have been recently,” Dontrell said, his smile entirely too cocky.
“You’re putting words into my mouth.” She tried to ruin the shot by looking straight into one of the cameras, but the director didn’t call “cut.”
“It’s all right. I understand that women have urges.” He reached for her hand. “It’s just that if we ever got serious, I would expect us to be in just a one-on-one thing.”
Jalila felt as if she was subtly being cast as a loose woman or something. “For your information, it’s been quite some time since I’ve with someone—intimately.”
His brows shot up. “Really?” Both he and the cameraman eased closer. “How long has it been?”
Feeling the pressure, she lied, “Two years.”
Keenan spent most of the day debating whether he would return to Mack Media and put himself through another night of editing with Jesse and Lamar. It wasn’t as though the guys didn’t know what they were doing and his jealousy was becoming too large to ignore—by him or by the guys at Mack Media.
However, his only other choice was to somehow convince Nitara to oversee the editing process. That was hardly fair since she spent most of her days at the actual filming. So, either he watched the taping in person or he sat in a darkroom and supervised the editing.
He couldn’t win.
He knew that tonight’s clips were centered on Jalila’s first date. He’d actually thought about having a few drinks or stabbing out his eyes before going in, but at the last minute he’d thought better of it.
When Keenan entered the studio, he didn’t miss the silent glances that passed between Jesse and Lamar. No doubt they anticipated another night of Keenan snapping their heads off. He vowed to do better.
But, when the footage started rolling, all bets were off. First of all, how was it possible that Jalila grew more beautiful with each passing day? And why did his body keep responding like a prepubescent teenager’s every time he saw her?
“Holy moly!” Jesse and Lamar exclaimed in unison when Jalila popped up in an electric-blue bikini that should have landed her the cover of King magazine. Lamar froze the footage and the three men sat there drooling like idiots.
Keenan couldn’t speak, and his erection now threatened to bust the seam of his pants. After a lengthy silence, he finally reminded the men that they had a job to do and they were wasting time. But as the footage of the date wore on, Keenan increasingly felt like he was on the verge of having a stroke. Every chance this Dontrell clown got, he was touching, hugging and trying to win a kiss from Jalila.
Whenever Jalila spurned muscle-head’s advances, Keenan’s chest would swell with pride while the little voice in his head cheered, That’s my girl.
Most of the surfing material was funny, but the intimate beach picnic was not. “Turn up the sound from camera number one,” he ordered.
Clip:
“So tell me something about you,” Jalila says. “How come a man like you is still single in L.A.?”
He shrugs and takes a long sip of his champagne. “I just haven’t found the right girl. You know, the one that’s hot enough to show off to your friends, yet sweet and innocent enough to take home to the parents.”
“Well, I don’t know about innocent.” She laughs.
“Don’t tell me that you’re one of those naughty girls.”
Jalila shakes her head. “I didn’t say that either.”
Still smiling, Dontrell’s eyes narrow on her. “Uh-huh. When was the last time you were with a man?”
“What?”
“Ahh. Must have been recently,” Dontrell says, his smile entirely too cocky.
“You’re putting words into my mouth.”
“It’s all right. I understand that women have urges.” He reaches for her hand. “It’s just that if we ever got serious, I would expect us to be in just a one-on-one thing.”
“For your information, it’s been quite some time since I’ve with someone—intimately.”
His brows shoot up. “Really?” Both he and the cameraman ease closer. “How long has it been?”
Jalila paused. “Two years.”
Keenan growled as he jumped up out of his seat, grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the studio.
Jesse and Lamar watched him leave and then shared a suspicious look.
“Do you get the impression that there’s more to this story than what’s on the monitor?” Lamar asked.
“Yes, indeed.”
Jalila was slowly falling asleep in the tub. She’d never known that a date could be so exhausting. Of course, if the camera crew hadn’t been there, their nine-hour date would have been reduced to about three. The thought of all those people coming back in the morning was a little too overwhelming. It had been less than a week. She still had three more weeks to go.
She reflected on her day and had to admit that as far as dates went, it had been one of her better ones. But was there a love match? She wasn’t too sure. Dontrell was nice, good-looking, but something was missing.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Jalila jumped.
Cujo started barking.
“Who in the hell?”
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Woof! Woof! Woof!
“Oh, good Lord.” Jalila got out of the tub and grabbed a short silk robe. As she raced to the front door, she realized the thin material was sticking to her wet body.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Woof! Woof! Woof! Cujo circled in front of the door.
“Who is it?”
“Keenan! Open up!”
Chapter 15
Jalila blinked. What in the hell is Keenan doing here? She peeked through the peephole to make sure it wasn’t one of her girls playing a game on her. “What do you want?” she shouted through the door.
“Open the door!”
“Why?”
“Open the goddamn door!” She jumped at the order. Maybe something was wrong. She quickly undid the locks and when she turned the knob, he shoved his way inside. “You got a lot of explaining to do.”
“Hey!”
Woof! Woof!
“What’s this bullshit that you haven’t been with a man in two years?”
Woof!
“Cujo, go lie down,” Keenan barked.
Cujo’s happy face fell as he turned and did as he was told.
Jalila watched in astonishment as she shut the door. “How did—?”
�
�Why on earth are you trying to lie on national television like that?” he charged.
Jalila tried to process what the hell he was yelling about. “I don’t see what the big deal is. You seem determined to act like that night never happened so why can’t I?”
He stepped toward her. “I never said—”
“You never said anything,” she shouted back. “You just crept out of here like a thief in the night and then started acting like I didn’t exist. Well, screw you. I don’t owe you an explanation why I didn’t brag from the rooftops that we fucked!”
“I never said—”
“Again, you never said anything!” She tossed up her hands and her robe threatened to spill open. “How in the hell did you think that made me feel? Do you even care?”
“Of course I care.”
“Yeah, I bet. Up until the time you had a half-naked woman draped across your desk.”
“Tenetria is my ex-wife.”
“That makes it all better.” Jalila’s face darkened as her chest heaved.
The latter catching Keenan’s undivided attention.
“You know what?” She turned and opened the door. “Just get out. Go.”
He didn’t move. He was too taken by how her anger had transformed her into a raving goddess.
Queen of His Heart Page 11
