by Jamie Pope
“That does sound positive. I could see myself logging on to an app like that.” MJ smiled. “And what else has been going on at the conference?”
Mimi smiled and excitement sparkled in her eyes. “A lot of good ideas in our early sessions. There’s even talk of a No More Mistresses website that would list all of the married men pretending to be single on dating websites.” Mimi kicked off her shoes. “Enough about me. Why was Nic here?”
“Business. He wants to do a citywide jazz fest and I’d be handling the marketing for it. We’re just sketching things out right now. But it sounds like it could be a great idea.”
“I hope it’s successful for your sake. But Nic can hug and kiss my—”
“Got it, Mimi.”
“I forgot to tell you this morning, but Jamal asked about you over dinner.”
MJ smiled and Mimi pointed at her. “What?”
“You and Jamal. What’s that all about?”
MJ sucked her teeth. “Jamal and I are just friends. He’s a foodie, despite the fact that he looks like he eats nothing but protein bars. We were going out Saturday night, but I got a call from a client because of some negative social-media reviews. We had brunch Sunday morning. Then he had to set up security at a venue for a concert or something.”
“So, this thing with you and Jamal is still light and fun or...”
“Stop it. Because for the last time, we’re just friends.” And Michael wondered if they would ever be more than that. If she was honest with herself, she’d admit that she wanted to be more than Jamal’s friend, but she also knew his reputation as a ladies’ man, so she kept her heart as guarded as possible. The last thing she would be was another name on his list of conquests. And she wasn’t about to get her heart smashed again by expecting too much from a man who didn’t know what he wanted.
* * *
Jamal loved his family, especially his grandmother Ethel. Every Monday, she called him to make sure he was taking care of himself—as if he was a teenager away at boarding school. And every Monday, he looked forward to his early morning conversations with his beloved grandmother.
But at this moment, he needed to get off the phone. A blast from his not-so-distant past had just made eye contact with him.
“Gran, I have to go,” he said as he saw a woman walking toward him with a smile on her face. How was it that the one morning he decided to go out for breakfast, he ran into Loony Lu-Lu, also known as Lucy Becker? The wannabe Atlanta socialite couldn’t fathom that Jamal rejected her advances and she couldn’t take no for an answer. And she always seemed to show up out of nowhere like a ghost of bad dates past. Jamal had gone out with Lucy only once. They’d attended a concert where she spent most of the night on her phone Tweeting and taking selfies for Instagram. It was a boring date, and when she outlined her plans for being on a reality show, Jamal knew he’d never go out with that crazy bird again.
Too bad she hadn’t gotten the message.
“Jamal, I do wish you would settle down like Brent. Look at him and Mimi, just as happy as they can be,” Ethel said.
“Gran, how do you know that they’re happy?”
“Because I read her blog! Anyway, go ahead and do whatever it is you said that you had to do and make sure you get me some fresh crawfish for my Savannah boil this year. I know that stuff you brought last year was frozen.”
Jamal chuckled, surprised that his grandmother read Mimi’s saucy blog. He remembered how Brent had gotten all out of sorts when his wife had written about their kiss on that infamous blog. “All right, Gran, fresh crawfish and settle down like Brent. I’m going to give you a call tomorrow.” He disconnected the call and bit back a groan. If Jamal thought he was going to get away from Lu-Lu, he was wrong.
“Jamal Carver,” she exclaimed, “you could’ve invited me to breakfast and I would’ve gladly accepted. Now you had to eat alone and where is the fun in that?”
“Hello, Lucy. Being alone is always fun—best company ever.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin and dropped it on the table. Rising to his feet, Jamal reached for his wallet and left enough cash to pay for his breakfast and tip his waitress. “Well, I’m off to work. Have a nice day,” he said.
“How about we have a nice night, together?”
“I’m good,” he said then headed for the door. Jamal silently cursed himself out for ever going out with Loony. He’d known his lips were dangerous, but he’d kissed her anyway. And she’d fallen head over heels. If only he had that effect on Michael Jane’s sexy ass.
Sighing, he unlocked his Ford Mustang and slid behind the wheel. MJ had been the star of his dreams since they’d met at his buddy’s cookout last year. Despite her masculine name, Michael was all woman, with dangerous curves he wanted to ride like the wind. And those expressive brown eyes. Sometimes, he’d just stare at her to watch the golden flecks in them. MJ’s dimples were another reason why he’d always tried to make the caramel beauty smile.
But she had wanted to keep things light. Normally, he’d be all for that, but something about MJ made him look for more. Was his gran right about it being time to settle down?
When he arrived at his security firm in the heart of downtown Atlanta, he focused on the breakdown in coverage at a concert his firm was providing security for where a deadly shooting had happened. He needed answers and someone was going to lose their job today. Jamal prided himself and his company on keeping people safe. His reputation wasn’t going to be sullied by people not doing their jobs. And then there was always the possibility of a lawsuit.
Better call Brent after this meeting, he thought. Jamal walked into the conference room and looked around at his staff. Three of the men had been with him for a decade, and two of the guys had come highly recommended from his marine buddy, Walter Ramirez.
“What in the hell happened last night?” Jamal demanded.
“J,” Harry Mancini began, “I was in charge last night and I take full responsibility for what happened. Around twelve thirty, the crowd started clearing out and I let two of the guys go home. Then the rest of us had to do security detail for the talent. We had no idea that there had been an argument.”
“How did a weapon get on the premises? We were supposed to be checking cars as well! Did you guys not pat folks down?” Jamal asked, disappointed that he was going to have to let Harry go. But he’d dropped the ball big-time.
“We were, but...”
“No buts, Harry. What happened last night was unacceptable and you were in charge. A life was lost. I have no choice but to let you go.”
Gasps filled the room, but Jamal wasn’t finished. “The rest of you are off duty until further notice. I can’t have people on my team who don’t follow the rules. We’re the First Line of Defense and last night we were worse than rent-a-cops.”
Harry rose to his feet and headed for the door. “Jamal, I’m sorry about what happened, but these guys don’t deserve this punishment.”
“And that’s not your choice to make.”
Jamal waited for the men to file out of the room before he dropped his head on the table. What he did had to be done but it still wasn’t easy to do. Pulling out his cell phone, he called Brent.
“What’s up, Jamal?” Brent asked when he answered.
“I’m in trouble,” Jamal began. “Or potentially in trouble.”
“What’s her name?”
“Bruh, this is serious. First Line of Defense was the security company at that concert over the weekend.”
“Oh, shit. And people are talking about suing you already?”
“No, but it’s only a matter of time. This is America and after the tragedy comes the lawsuit.”
“Yeah, but they will probably go after the promoter and the artist first. That’s where the money is.”
“Still, my guys failed to do their job and I feel responsible.”
> “Don’t say that to anyone else. I know you take your job seriously and you have an impeccable reputation, but you can’t save everybody and no one is going to hold you responsible.”
“That’s what you say until someone files a lawsuit.”
“If they do, then you know I got your back. Stop borrowing trouble.”
“You’re right, but I had one of my top guys running the point on this concert and I had to fire him today.”
“Damn, that was harsh.”
“So was not following my rules. But whatever. I’m going to go do some paperwork.”
“Dude, this is not like you at all. What’s the real problem?”
MJ.
“Who said I had a problem?”
“Your actions and your attitude. The last time I saw you act like this was during the... What’s her name?”
Jamal groaned. “It’s MJ.”
“I knew it. I thought you guys were just kicking it and having a good time?”
“And I thought I could handle that,” Jamal said. “Any other woman, I would’ve been good with that, but there is something different about Michael.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t want you. Forbidden fruit is always the sweetest.”
“Says the man who married his former client. I guess you would know.”
“I’m going to chalk that up to you not getting any and being jealous. You know nothing happened between Mimi and me before I settled her case. Not that it matters now, because she’s my wife and whatever I did worked.”
“I know. As a matter of fact, I should send your wife a few dozen roses to get her to help me win MJ over.”
Brent broke out into laughter. “You know if you ask Mimi for help, you might end up fodder for her blog.”
“Umm, I forgot about that. You know my gran reads her blog. Still, I don’t know how and why Michael has gotten under my skin the way she has,” Jamal said. “I feel like I’m one step away from being Loony Lu-Lu.”
“Is that woman still after you?”
“Sadly. Like they say, it’s the ones you don’t want who are always chasing after you.”
“That’s what happens when you have too many ones,” Brent said. “I got to go, but I can tell you this—I might be having lunch with my wife and her best friend at the new Sunshine Café in the West End around one thirty.”
“You might be getting a six-pack of craft beer to relax with this weekend. I’ll see y’all at one thirty,” Jamal said.
After hanging up the phone with Brent, Jamal felt a little better about everything.
He glanced at the clock on the wall and realized that he had too much time on his hands to sit there and think about Michael. So, he logged on to his computer and pulled up his rules-of-engagement document for his employees and printed it out. He didn’t want any more excuses about not knowing what to do.
Copyright © 2017 by Cheris Hodges
ISBN-13: 9781488013836
Tempted at Twilight
Copyright © 2017 by Jamie Pope
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