“Well, you see, I have a six-month-old daughter,” Kendra replied. “And my grandmother looks after her during the day, so I really have to get home.”
“Why don’t you bring her with you?” Peyton suggested. “The community center has a day care.”
“They do?”
“Yes, they do,” Peyton replied and widened the circle so the other students could hear. “And they need all of your help. They’ve lost their summer volunteers and would like us to start right away.” Peyton rallied the troops. “Can you all come with me this afternoon? I believe there is some preliminary paperwork that you have to fill out before getting started, as well as having to attend a new-volunteer information session. And I’m sure if we discuss your situation, it shouldn’t be a problem, Kendra.”
“You mean you’re coming too?” Kendra asked. “Why? You’re the professor, you don’t need extra credit.” Several students chuckled.
“I’m coming because I want to help,” Peyton returned. “I practice what I preach.” Half a dozen faces smiled back at her. She’d won them over. “I’ll see you all back here at four p.m. sharp and we’ll head over to the center together.”
“Why are you smiling like a cat that just ate a canary?” Malik inquired when Theresa poked her head in his office later that afternoon. Theresa was beaming like a neon light. It was clear she was proud of herself.
“Oh, I just found us a group of volunteers from NYU,” Theresa answered. “They’ll be stopping by any minute for a new-volunteer information session.”
“Wow, you sure didn’t waste any time,” Malik said. He couldn’t recall a time when Theresa had moved so quickly, which meant she had something up her sleeve. “What gives, Theresa?”
“Nothing,” Theresa said, smiling. “We needed help and I got it.”
“You sure did,” Malik said. “You’re a gem, Theresa.”
“I know.”
The phone rang and Theresa picked it up. “Great, thanks,” Theresa hung up the receiver. “The volunteers are here.”
“I’d like to meet them.” Malik rose from his chair. “You know, introduce them to the center.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea.”
“Aren’t you coming?” Malik asked.
“No, uh, I have a lot of work to do.” Theresa backed out of the door. “I’m sure you can handle it.”
“All right.” Malik eyed her suspiciously one final time before walking down the hall to the meeting room. He found over a dozen young men and women listening to the volunteer coordinator go over the application process, which included a photo and videotape release, NY State central registry check and professional and personal release forms.
Malik was proud to see today’s youth giving back to the community. It warmed his heart—until he saw the woman sitting in the front row holding center stage. What is Peyton Sawyer doing here?
When the volunteer coordinator, Denise Burke, looked up and saw Malik at the door, she waved him forward. “I’d like all of you to meet Malik Williams, the director of the Harlem Community Center.”
When Peyton heard his name, her heart jolted. No, say it isn’t so. How could he be the director of the center? Peyton wished she could snap her fingers and disappear. Instead, she sat with her attention towards Denise Burke. She saw him glance her way out of the corner of her eye as he walked towards the front, but she kept her eyes straight ahead.
“Thank you all…” Malik emphasized the word as he stood beside the coordinator “…for coming. It really means a lot.” He touched his chest. “Just to give you a little history, the Harlem Community Center was founded in nineteen fifty-eight, and more than five hundred families and children use the center each and every day…”
Peyton couldn’t hear a word Malik said, because she was fixed on the man himself. She studied him underneath hooded lashes and watched as he tossed back his dreads when he became exuberant. Even in faded blue jeans and a T-shirt, Malik had a swagger about him that caused Peyton to feel flushed. Why was she having such a strong physical attraction to this man? She couldn’t understand it. She’d never thought of herself as someone unable to control herself, but Malik Williams was causing all sorts of heated sensations to flow through her body.
“The center is here to inspire the young people in this community to use education and leadership to transcend difficult circumstances,” Malik continued. “I am one of those people, ladies and gentleman. I, along with several of my close friends, grew up using this center, and today I’m privileged to work here and give back to all the community that contributed to my success. That being said, I welcome you to the Harlem center and hope you enjoy your volunteer experience. If there is anything that you need, please feel free to come and see me. My door is always open.” Malik bowed and then headed for the door, but not before saying, “Professor Sawyer, a word if you please, outside.”
Peyton thought about ignoring his request as if she hadn’t heard him, but several curious sets of eyes were looking at her, so she had no choice.
“What are you doing here? And what kind of game are you playing?” Malik asked, once the doors had closed.
Peyton’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“I wasn’t good enough for you to talk to, let alone spend time with, but now you come into my center acting like you’re here to help people?” Malik’s voice rose slightly.
“It’s not an act,” Peyton replied sternly. “I had no idea you were director when I picked this establishment. I wanted to volunteer as I’d done in Ohio, and give my students some practical experience. That’s it, nothing more. You’re just angry because I turned down your offer to show me around New York.”
“And the only reason you turned me down was because you were attracted to me,” Malik replied with a smile.
Was it that obvious? Peyton wondered. “I am not,” she lied.
“I think you’re scared.” Malik came towards her until he was inches away from her face. He watched her take a step back. He was so close, he could smell the exotic scent of her perfume. “Scared of going after what you want, scared of dating someone different than your norm, scared of dating outside the box.”
She didn’t like that he’d hit the nail on the head, and yelled, “How dare you!” She realized just how loud she was, when several of her students turned and stared at her through the glass, so she lowered her voice. “You don’t even know me.”
“What I know is that I will not play a game of cat-and-mouse with you, so consider your services no longer needed.” He turned on his heel and began walking away, even though he desperately wanted to pull the scared little professor into his arms and kiss her senseless.
He didn’t get the opportunity because Theresa came storming towards him. “Malik Williams, what’s going on here? I heard loud voices.”
“You can’t fire me. I’m volunteering!” Peyton stomped her foot.
Malik turned around. He hated that even her pouty face was so damn sexy. “I am the final word at this center, Ms. Sawyer,” Malik yelled over his shoulder before sauntering past Theresa into his office and shutting the door behind him.
“He can’t fire me, can he?” Peyton asked, turning to Theresa. “I mean, I’m here to help. I want to help and be here with my students.”
“He is the director,” Theresa said, shrugging, even though inside she was dying to laugh aloud. Everything had worked better than she’d hoped. Peyton had ruffled Malik’s feathers again, which meant he found her more intriguing than the other women in his life. “But I can talk to him if you’re serious.” Theresa stared back at Peyton. Did this woman have the fortitude to handle a man as strong and bullheaded as Malik?
“Of course, I’m serious. I believe in helping the community,” Peyton replied. “I can give you several references at other centers, shelters and hospitals where I’ve volunteered.”
Theresa smiled. “Once he calms down, I’ll talk to him. Just fill out the paperwork, and by the time you come back
I’ll have it all worked out.”
“Thank you.” Peyton squeezed Theresa’s hand. “You’re a lifesaver.” She went back inside to finish listening to the information session, while Theresa thought about how she would continue to stoke the flame.
“Malik, you’re being unreasonable.” Theresa barged into his office several minutes later. He was sitting with his mentor, Andrew Webster, the former director of the community center.
“Andrew, it’s so good to see you, sweetheart.” Theresa came forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “When did you arrive?”
“A few moments ago,” Andrew returned. Even at sixty-five, Andrew looked as healthy as a horse. At six foot six, he towered over most men, including Malik, which is why he’d always managed to put the fear of God into him as a youth.
“Andrew just dropped by to discuss the upcoming ‘Feed the Homeless’ event before we were interrupted,” Malik said, eyeing Theresa.
“Well, if you weren’t acting like such a horse’s behind,” Theresa retorted, “I wouldn’t have had to interrupt you.”
“What’s going on?” Andrew looked at his two former colleagues.
“There’s a volunteer that is not suited for the center,” Malik responded. He had no problem discussing the situation with his mentor. He valued Andrew’s opinion. Because of him, he’d taken an interest in community service.
“Does he or she have a criminal background or health issues?” Andrew inquired.
“Well…not that I know of.” Malik had no real cause to disapprove of Peyton Sawyer, other than that she was a tease.
“She’s a great candidate,” Theresa spoke up and closed the door behind her. “She’s a professor at NYU and has encouraged many of her students to volunteer at the center. They’re in orientation right now.”
“So your beef is personal?” Andrew asked.
“She turned him down for a date,” Theresa revealed.
Andrew turned to Malik. “So she damaged your ego. Is that it?”
“Before she knew who I was, she insulted me. Peyton Sawyer probably thought I was a lowly bohemian, and beneath her, a college-educated professor. I don’t want that kind of person at the center. The people here need help. I won’t have her making them feel inferior.”
“Don’t you think you might be overreacting a tad?” Andrew asked. He’d known Malik for years and this wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen his protégé’s quick temper. “You do recall your behavior a few months ago with Quentin, don’t you? Why don’t you go talk to the woman—you know? See what she’s truly about before you leap to judgment. I think you could stand to learn a lesson from the past.”
Trust Andrew to be so rational, so logical. Malik supposed that’s why he looked up to him. Andrew had been the only father figure he had ever had. His biological father had skipped town shortly after he was born, leaving his mother to raise him on her own. That’s until she hooked up with his stepfather Joe Johnson. Did growing up in Joe’s shadow give him his fiery temper?
“Fine, I’ll talk to her,” Malik conceded, “but I make no guarantees.”
“That’s all I ask,” Theresa said, and then winked at Andrew.
NYU was Malik and Sage’s old stomping grounds. He loved the carnival-like atmosphere of Washington Square Park, with the dog-walkers, skateboarders, musicians and chess players. He’d called ahead to find out Peyton Sawyer’s next class time and headed straight there. Class hadn’t yet started, so Malik was able to blend in with the other one hundred or so students waiting to hear her lecture.
Malik was surprised when Peyton arrived in a short black skirt that revealed a generous amount of leg, and a sleeveless blue knit top that showed off her buff arms. Instead of prim and proper in tweeds and a button-down shirt, like most NYU professors. Malik was sure all the young men in the room were salivating just as he was.
Malik was mesmerized as he watched Peyton lecture for the next hour, and not just because of her sheer beauty, but more so because she showed a genuine passion for her work. He rarely saw that kind of enthusiasm. Her students’ response and the discussion were a clear indication of how much she stimulated their minds. Malik was impressed.
“Your first paper will be due in two weeks. In a few days, my assistant will have the lecture notes online.”
Malik waited until after most of her students had filed out before approaching Peyton.
Peyton was packing up her books when she felt a presence behind her. She whirled around and was shocked to find Malik Williams standing there. “What are you doing here?” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she realized how accusatory she sounded. Could it be because Malik looked like he could easily fit in with the Greenwich Village crowd, in cargo pants and a tight T-shirt? The shirt revealed his muscular arms and tight abs.
“Sounds familiar, huh?” Malik asked. His tone suggesting that he’d been as disconcerted as she when he’d found her on his turf.
Peyton ignored him and threw books into her satchel. “What do you want, Malik?”
Malik bowed his head. “I’m here to apologize. I was wrong about your intentions.”
Peyton turned back around. “You’re admitting you’re wrong?”
“Yes, I am.” Malik stood up straight. “I was wrong about your reasons for coming to the center, and after sitting in on your class and hearing how passionate you are about serving the community, I’m here to tell you that you can volunteer at the center.”
Peyton chuckled. Should she be grateful that he’d had a change of heart? Perhaps. But he hadn’t been completely off the mark, either, when he’d said she was scared of her attraction to him. She had never felt that kind of instant attraction. Not even with David; their relationship had been more of a slow burn. “I fully intended to do that. With or without your blessing, but I will accept your apology.”
“Thank you,” Malik said, smiling. “And if you let me, I’d like to make it up to you. How about a cup of coffee?”
“Are you asking me out again?” Peyton asked.
Malik took a deep breath. She really wanted to bust his chops. “I am asking you out for coffee.”
Peyton debated with herself. Should she go? It was just coffee, after all. Perhaps if she went out with him and satisfied her curiosity once and for all, she could get back on an even keel. “All right.” Peyton threw her satchel over her shoulder. “Lead the way.”
Malik and Peyton took a short walk through Washington Square Park to Caffe Reggio. Always crowded, they managed to grab an outside table just as a couple was leaving. “Good looking out,” Peyton commented.
“This was always a favorite hangout of mine when I went to NYU,” Malik said as he helped her into her chair.
“Thank you.” Peyton inhaled deeply and received a whiff of Malik’s musky cologne. He smelled darn good.
A waitress appeared several moments later and took their order. Malik ordered a cappuccino and a cannoli and Peyton couldn’t resist ordering their homemade tiramisu with her caffe latte.
“How did you get in the community service field?” Peyton asked, making polite chit-chat.
“Because I experienced firsthand how difficult it was for my mother, a single woman, to raise a child on her own. She didn’t have the resources that are available today. If she did, maybe things would have turned out differently.”
Peyton was curious about Malik’s comment, she wondered if it had something to do with the fact that he and his friends frequented the center in their youth; but when he didn’t expound further she didn’t press for more details. The waitress came back and placed their coffees and Italian pastries on the table.
“Would you like anything else?”
“No, we’re good for now,” Malik replied, and the waitress departed.
“So, how long have you been director at the Harlem center?”
“For about five years, since my mentor retired.”
“Sounds like he was a big influence.”
“You’ve no idea,” Malik
replied, sipping his cappuccino. “Sometimes though, it feels like I’m fighting an uphill battle. We always need more equipment, more supplies, more food…” His voice trailed off.
“But you persevere,” Peyton said.
“Yes.” Malik nodded. He’d never stop fighting. “But we could use a corporate sponsor dedicated to our center. Anyway, enough about me.” Malik turned the tables. “What made you decide to pack up your bags and move to New York? Usually, only starving artists hoping to catch their big break purposely move here.”
“Not necessarily true,” Peyton replied. “Sometimes people move because they need a change. When I put some feelers out and found that NYU had a position, I applied. Of course, it helped that my brother lived here.”
She grew reflective. “My mother is a teacher too, and she’s always been passionate about giving back. She used to take me with her to the homeless shelters, and if there was an event going on at my school, like a clothing or food drive, she was all over it.”
“Sounds like she’s a phenomenal woman.”
“I respect her a lot. She’s inspired me to volunteer, which is why I came to HCC.” Then she added, “I had no idea you were the director.”
“And if you did know you would have run in the opposite direction?” he wondered aloud. “What is it about me that disturbs you, Peyton?”
The way he said her name was like a soft caress, and it sent a little shiver up Peyton’s spine. He was staring at her so intently, waiting for her response, that Peyton lost her words.
“Is it because you’re married or otherwise engaged?” Malik asked the question he’d been dying to ask since they’d met. Peyton wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but that didn’t mean anything these days.
“I’m single,” she said softly.
“So there’s no reason why we can’t spend time together?”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing now?”
“Coffee during the day hardly counts,” Malik countered. “How about we take it slow, and when you’re ready we’ll go out on a real date.”
Peyton breathed a sigh of relief. “I think that could work.”
This Time for Real Page 3
