Tender Touch

by Emery, Lynn

  “We’ll see. Now are we ready for coffee?”

  “Bye, Jade. Damon, we’ll see you next week,” Clarice called to them as she passed by. The others in her party waved as well.

  “I’ll be there,” Damon called back.

  “Bye, Mama.” Jade’s cheerful goodbye was genuine, much to her surprise.

  “Now I’ve got some of the best Jamaican coffee you ever want to taste. Shall we?”

  “I thought you meant...”

  “No demands, remember? I promise not to bite.” Damon stood up and held out his hand. Jade took it and followed him out.

  The drive took them through an exclusive neighborhood of luxury town homes and garden homes. Jade watched the tail- lights of his Mercedes Benz. Woman, you have lost your mind going over to the man’s apartment. Jade waited behind him at a red light. Damon waved to her, smiling in his rearview mirror. Yet she did not think of turning the car down a street and running off into the night. That would be rude, she reasoned. She dodged the thought that she was curious to see where he lived. The tiny warning voice so familiar said he might be a crazed pervert for all she knew.

  “Now I’m really tripping,” Jade murmured. “Why do I have to add mad drama to everything? This is a normal invitation to end a pleasant evening with a congenial cup of coffee.”

  Jade considered the change of heart toward her mother’s obvious intention to insert herself into Jade’s love life. Clarice would no doubt try to interfere. Of course her mother would see it as helping nurture a desirable match. Still Jade did not feel the annoyance or grim resignation her mother’s machinations usually inspired. Somehow she felt in control this time. With Damon the pace of their relationship would not be dictated by anyone—not even so formidable a woman as her mother. That she could think of having a date over to her mother’s home without getting a sick, dizzy spell was proof positive of the magic Damon Knight had worked on her. When she got out of her car to walk with him, Jade giggled.

  “Okay, share the joke.” Damon led the way into his living room.

  “I was just thinking of my mother. She’s probably already planning next Wednesday’s dinner. I get shivers at the thought of what she’ll come up with.” Jade could well imagine Clarice would pull out all the stops to impress Damon.

  “Can’t cook?”

  “Oh, she’s a great cook. But she has made matchmaking her mission. And not just for her daughters, though we’re her top priority.” Jade shook her head.

  “That simply means she loves you and wants the best for you.” Damon brought her a cup of coffee.

  Jade had seldom seen her mother’s efforts to mold her in that light. “I suppose so. Still, it can be very aggravating.” When Damon sat close to her on the sofa, she forgot her mother. And everything else.

  “Tell me about it. My father can be a real bull when he decides he knows what we should do. Trent, my younger brother, still hasn’t been forgiven for not joining the family business.”

  “I see.” Jade did not see anything but the even color of his skin. The delicate scent of his cologne—she played a game of trying to identify it—was like heated spices. Better think of something else quick or I’ll be all over him. “I love your place.” She took regular breaths in an attempt to slow her racing pulse when he turned away to look around.

  “Thanks. My own feeble decorating efforts.”

  Jade admired the earth tones of red, forest greens, beige and brown that blended so well. The sofa was brown fabric with a pattern of leaves in fall colors. The carpet was a dark green that blended well with the green and brown draperies. Several small African sculptures were arranged with great taste on the tables. She admired two prints of popular black artists that were on the walls. He used a few items to great advantage. The apartment was individual and inviting.

  “Don’t be so modest. I love what you’ve done.” Jade’s heart began to thump hard when a swell of a mellow blues tune floated from the compact disc player. Johnnie Taylor’s voice flowed like warm honey, making her squirm. When Damon came back to sit beside her again, Jade sat rigid with determination.

  “I’m glad you like my place. Maybe that means you’ll visit often.” Damon sat relaxed with his arm across the back of the sofa. He did not attempt to touch her.

  “Yes, it is attractive.” Jade was too flustered to respond to his last statement. She made a great show of looking at her watch. “Goodness, I hadn’t realized how late it is. I’d better be going.”

  Damon pulled her arm to him before she could get up. He held her arm and took his time staring at the watch face. Looking into her eyes, he stroked her skin. “Umm, only nine. You have to rush off so soon?”

  Jade’s throat went dry. Words would not come. For several seconds she sat transfixed by his hypnotic gaze. “Well, I’ve got lots to do at the office,” she said, forcing her voice to work. “Uh- hmm, I need to get an early start before Bill gets there.”

  “I see,” he said in a quiet voice. Damon’s gaze never wavered.

  “Once he’s in the office, things get so hectic,” Jade said in a small voice. Her heart was beating so hard, she was sure folks in the next apartment must hear it.

  “Guess you can’t stay a little while longer.” Damon leaned toward her.

  “I really should be going.” Jade’s voice was no more than a whisper as Damon touched her bottom lip with his thumb. His warm breath brushed her cheek as his face came within an inch of hers. She shivered. “Damon.”

  “Yes,” he murmured. Slowly he teased her by rubbing his bottom lip against hers.

  Jade could not stop the gasp she uttered as a blast of hot energy surged down her back to spread through her hips. The desire to have his hands on her body left her weak, too weak to pull away when his tongue flickered over her mouth. He kissed her with a slow, sweet searching moment of his lips and tongue. But soon urgency took control as his hands gripped her shoulders tighter. Jade could feel the rest of the world slip away until there was only the touch of his skin and the warm, tangy scent of him. Her mind filled with a kaleidoscope of pastels that swirled. All she wanted was for this to go on forever. She wanted more than to just be with him, she wanted to be inside him. No, she needed to have him inside her. Close was not enough. This man moved her to a place so wondrous, so delicious it was almost supernatural. His large hands moved with a gentleness that drove her wild. Damon was not just holding and kissing her, he possessed her the way a powerful spirit might possess a poor mortal. The certainty that they were meant to be together, emotionally and physically, flashed into her consciousness like a blinding bolt of lightning.

  “Jade, baby,” Damon moaned. “You taste so good.” He kissed her face and neck.

  She wrapped both arms around him. “We shouldn’t...” Yet even as she spoke, she pressed her body to his.

  Damon nuzzled her cleavage. “Take it slow, you mean?” he said in a soft voice.

  “Oh, my—I mean yes,” Jade said. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it. When he kissed the base of her throat, she melted into him again.

  “Don’t make me wait too long,” Damon whispered in her ear before leaning back against the cushions. A sheen of perspiration made his face glisten. He took out a handkerchief.

  “Mercy, mercy me.” Jade got up from the sofa on legs like soft putty. She had to move away from the force of him. It was more than she could resist for much longer. Walking to the fireplace, she sought to steady herself by holding on to the cool marble of the mantel. Her back was to him.

  “Please don’t be angry with me. I know I got carried away,” Damon said in a voice laden with anxiety after several long minutes of silence.

  “Damon, it’s so fast.” Jade wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

  “I’m sorry, I went too far. But please don’t turn away from me.” Damon stood beside her but was careful not to touch her.

  “What?” Jade blinked with confusion. The haze of desire still clouded her mind.

  “How can I explai
n it?” Damon paced in front of the sofa. “I feel like a man stumbling out of the desert to find a cool stream of spring water. A little sip only makes me that much more thirsty for you.”

  “Damon—”

  “I know. Getting heavy is not on your agenda right now.”

  “Damon...” Jade was so full of emotion that all she wanted to say crowded her mouth until she could not say anything. The old fear that she was not worthy of him slammed back with a vengeance. This was too good to be true, which meant it could not, would not last. She backed away from him. “Maybe I’d better go now.”

  Misery painted his features with a grim frown of resignation. “Have I lost you?” he asked.

  Jade could not bear to be the cause of that look. She came back to stand before him, a hand on his arm. “No, no! It’s just that I need some time to sort through all I’m feeling.” She gave him a smile of reassurance and touched his cheek. It was hard not to pour out her heart to him.

  Damon placed his hand over hers. “I don’t want to do anything to make you go away.” He smiled at her with a gleam of amusement in his eyes. “Besides, I need a little time to recuperate from you, too. Now I truly understand the expression ‘You rock my world.’ ”

  Jade laughed. “I can testify myself, brother-man.” She planted a chaste kiss on his chin then moved away fast before the spark ignited between them again. She picked up her purse and coat on her way out. “I’ll see you soon.”

  He was beside her in a few long strides and stood close. Damon brushed her face once more then opened the front door. “Count on it.”

  Chapter 5

  Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice.” Lang shook hands with Damon.

  They were in Damon’s suite of offices in the Knight-Cormier Building. An office complex built with financing from both of his grandfathers in 1960, not long after his parents were married, it was three stories high. Titus Knight wanted his son to make a big impression on the business community. Aubin Cormier wanted his new son-in-law to continue to provide for his much treasured youngest daughter in the style she was accustomed to and deserved.

  Located in the heart of what was known from the early thirties as the heart of the black upper-crust business district, it was made of gray brick with large windows facing the street. A large sculpture by Frank Hayden, a leading black artist, greeted visitors as they entered the lobby. Prints of famous paintings by Henry Ossawa Tanner, Clementine Hunter and others lined the halls leading to offices. Tenants included attorneys, an insurance company and even a black dentist. Damon’s offices were on the top floor with a nice view of tree-lined Harding Boulevard.

  “No problem, Bill. Have a seat. Now what can I do for you?” Damon sat opposite Lang in a dark red leather chair that matched three others arranged around a cherry wood table set in an alcove of his spacious office. A window let in late winter sunshine that brightened the room.

  Lang accepted a cup of coffee from Damon’s secretary, Marius. “Thank you, son. I think it’s great the way you’ve given jobs to the young brothers in need.”

  “Marius has done well for himself. He’s got more of a focus than ever before.”

  “Marius is from Easy Town, right? Gangs have really gotten to be a problem in that area.”

  Damon gave a solemn nod. “One of his brothers is on death row at Angola State Prison. I think Marius has made up his mind to live a different kind of life.”

  “Good for him. Good for him.” Lang took a sip of coffee. “This place never goes out of style.” He gazed around the office building.

  Damon wondered about the purpose of this visit. Just what was Lang leading up to now? He’d known him since they were teenagers, and disliked him for just as long. “Bill, you didn’t come here to talk about gangs or admire my office building.” He sat back and waited.

  Lang smiled. “Still the same serious, get-to-the-point Damon Knight. How long have we known each other? Sixteen, seventeen years?”

  “Longer. We met when we were juniors in high school. Then again at Morehouse.” Damon remembered how the fresh-faced young man could charm his way into any woman’s bed or gain the trust of other men.

  “Yes, those were some good times.”

  “Mostly,” Damon replied. He also remembered how he learned that Lang was willing to do whatever was necessary to get what he wanted. Lang would not break laws, if he could help it. But bending rules or changing them to suit his needs came easy to William Jefferson Lang.

  “You’re still not holding a grudge about that incident with the vice chancellor are you? Man, we’re grown-ups now. Besides, I talked you out of trouble.” Lang put his cup down.

  “I didn’t have anything to do with faking those lab results in the first place. And Thomas St. George was expelled, while you were only suspended for two semesters.” Damon wore an expression of displeasure. Thomas had gone home in disgrace. He’d later completed his education at a small college in Virginia.

  “Wonder how old Thomas is doing?” Lang seemed curious but not the least bit regretful that the impressionable young man had suffered because he’d been led into trouble by him.

  “Quite well,” Damon said. No thanks to you. “He’s running his uncle’s hardware store chain in West Virginia.”

  “Splendid.”

  ‘Bill, I’m still wondering why you’re here.” Damon now wanted him out of his office.

  “There have been several meetings with Mike and Steve Franklin about the grant that you haven’t attended. Why?”

  “I didn’t think it was appropriate to meet with them just yet. I thought we were going to set up a steering committee to include community members.” Damon had explained all this to Mike Testor when he’d called him a month ago.

  “We’re working on it.”

  “Apparently key decisions will be made and then handed to them to be rubber-stamped.”

  “Certainly not. But as a businessman you know that not everything can be done by committee. We’d never get this project rolling if some groundwork was not done to help them get a solid start.” Lang was all reason.

  “What kind of groundwork?” Damon wore a skeptical expression.

  “Starting with a policy and procedures manual for their review; but first putting together an orientation for them. This committee could become a permanent advisory board. These are just a few of the details we need to discuss,” Lang said. He sat forward with an earnest look to his suave features. “Let’s get down to the real deal, Damon.”

  “Which is?”

  “You don’t trust me.” Lang held up a hand to forestall a reply. “With good reason, I admit. But like I said, I’ve grown up a lot since college.”

  “Look, I’m not accusing you of anything.” Damon was still wary. He’d seen Lang in action too many times over the years.

  “You don’t have to, brother. All I’m asking is that you look over my career for the last twelve years.”

  Damon could not dispute him. He’d watched Lang rise in state government with a solid reputation for getting things done. “You’ve done some good things,” he said finally.

  Lang sat back. “I’ve been active in the community. I want to change some of the things that have gone wrong for all poor people, though of course the plight of black people touches me at a deeper level.”

  This time Damon sat forward. “Which is why we can’t afford to lose any opportunity to reach out. Conservatives have been more successful than most folks realize in cutting back on programs. But so-called liberals have gone along with a lot of their agenda as well.”

  “We’re in total agreement. So you’re afraid I’ll do something to squander a chance to make an impact?” Lang raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Steve Franklin has a reputation for putting profit before quality services. With his interests in nursing homes and psychiatric hospitals, he’s made millions.” Damon stopped short of mentioning recent revelations about overbilling Medicaid funds. Four psychiatric hospitals run by Franklin’s health
care company were responsible for much of it.

  “Steve can be an aggressive business hound, sure. But his facilities have come through audits and survey reviews with only a few minor citations.”

  Damon knew this was true since it had been reported in the newspapers. Even with a lot of digging, investigative reporters had not turned up any wrongdoing that involved Franklin. Maybe he was being too paranoid. Lang was right, they were almost twenty years older now.

  “I’m sorry, but it’s just that those folks are so used to having their hopes crushed,” Damon said. “Too many grants end up providing high-paying jobs for a few of the already-haves.”

  “I’m going to be straight up, Damon. We need you because the people around Gracie Street, Easy Town and Banks trust you. For our efforts to really be effective, we need that credibility factor. If you ever have any questions about something we’ve done, don’t hesitate to ask. You’ll be kept fully informed.” Lang’s tone was decisive and meant to inspire confidence.

  Damon still hesitated. “Eddie should be more of a player than I.”

  “Of course Eddie can represent you. I know how busy you are running one of the most successful black businesses in the state. I don’t expect you to make every meeting,” Lang put in quickly.

  “It’s not so much that...” Damon thought of Jade. Lang was right about his time being at a premium with the stores and Gracie Street Center activities. But Jade was now an important factor. She worked long hours and so did he, but Damon had no intention of missing out on such a fabulous woman. Meeting with Lang and the others would take precious hours away from his already scarce private life.

  “Besides, the best way you can know we’re doing the right thing is to be present. Right? And we’ll meet at my office, which is just a ten-minute drive from here.”

  The prospect of seeing more of Jade turned Damon’s hesitation into decision. “When is the next time you get together?”

  Lang smiled broadly. “Next Thursday at ten-thirty. We should be through by lunchtime at least.” He stood up and pumped Damon’s hand. “I’m glad we had this talk. We’re going to make a great team, Damon.”