by Rhonda Bowen
“No.”
Portia headed into the living room to grab her purse. Logically, she knew what her mother was saying made sense. But she couldn’t have a logical thought when it came to the man who provided half her DNA. God was working in her, but He still had a long way to go.
Yvonne followed her to the door quietly. “I am sorry the evening had to end this way.”
Portia shook her head. “Not your fault.”
“Even so, I’m sorry.”
Portia looked up and caught the weariness on her mother’s face. It was a look she knew very well. It was one her mother used to carry daily when Portia was younger. But she hadn’t seen that look in years, not since her father left.
She reached over and hugged her mother. “I’m sorry, Mom. I can’t do it.”
On the drive home, Portia replayed the conversation with her mother in her mind. So he was back, interfering in their lives again. She squeezed the bridge of her nose hoping to alleviate the tension that was building there. She honestly hadn’t thought about him in years. Not actively anyway. She had practiced pretending he didn’t exist; pretending like she didn’t know he was only two states away; pretending like she didn’t know his son played in the NFL and that he had a daughter who should be graduating from college soon; pretending like it didn’t matter that he was probably there for their important moments but hadn’t bothered to be there for hers. And she had pretended for so long, that it had almost become reality.
Almost.
She wished she had just ignored her mother’s phone.
All her wishing faded to the back of her mind, however, as she turned the corner onto her street.
“What in the world?”
Her usually quiet avenue was traffic jammed with cars. In the distance, she could see several sets of flashing blue lights. As she edged closer, her heart hammered in her chest. Police cars were parked right in front of her home. She picked up her cell phone and dialed her brother’s number.
“What’s up?”
“Are you okay?” Portia could hear the panic in her own voice.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m over at Jordan and Naomi’s.” Derek’s voice turned serious. “Are you okay?”
Portia let out a sigh of relief. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just turned onto our street. There’s a whole bunch of police cars near the house.”
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” Portia put the car in park while still a few houses away from her own. “Let me find out and call you back.”
The early November air snuck between the layers of her clothes. She pulled her fall jacket tighter as she walked. A few of her neighbors stood on the sidewalk near their cars watching the scene ahead. As she neared her home, she noted that the squad cars were not parked at her driveway but the one beside it.
“Excuse me. Can someone tell me what’s going on?”
A heavyset man in uniform stepped forward. “Miss, do you live at this house?”
Portia folded her arms against herself as the wind whipped her hair away from her face. “No, but I live at the one right next to it.”
“You live at 43?”
Portia nodded. “Yes. My brother lives downstairs and I live on the second floor.”
He frowned. “I’m Officer Peters. Miss, you better come with me.”
Portia followed the officer past the cars and up the steps of her neighbor’s home. Creepy Carl’s home. Portia stepped gingerly through the entrance, trying not to touch the walls or anything else. She wrinkled her nose at the weird musty smell. Did Carl never open a window? Through a doorway to her left, she could see two officers looking in drawers and through stacks of papers. Officer Peters ignored them and headed straight up the stairs. He went into the room at the top of the stairs. When Portia followed, she realized it was a bedroom.
“Were you familiar with your neighbor Carl Bleaker?” Officer Peters stepped over clothes, shoes and books on the floor.
Portia followed in his footsteps. “No. We never interacted. If we had to, it was always my brother who spoke to him. I always found him a bit...”
“Weird?”
“Creepy was actually the word I was going for.”
“Well, your instincts were probably right.” Officer Peters opened the closet. Portia walked in and found herself looking at a blank wall with a small hole the size of a grape a foot above her head. She needed to stand on a chair to look through. When she did she gasped.
“I’m assuming that is your closet,” the officer said.
“Oh my goodness! He’s been watching me this whole time?”
The officer sighed. “Probably. We think he inserted a mini camera through there and hooked it up to his computer. The hole would have been right where your lighting fixture is so you wouldn’t have noticed it. As long as the light is on in your closet, he has a pretty good view of what’s going on. I’m really sorry.”
Portia glowered. “Where is that, perve? I could kill him! I can’t believe he was watching me this whole time.” Her eyes widened. “He could have stuck a gun through there and shot at me.”
“Maybe, but it’s unlikely.” Officer Peters said. “From what we could tell he was more of a voyeur. He was spying on the neighbors on the other side also.”
Portia shuddered as she followed the officer back down the stairs. “We’re still investigating to see what else he might be into. But if you want to file charges—”
“I absolutely do!” Portia cringed. “That perve.”
“I figured as much. Wait here a minute. I’ll have someone take your information.”
The officer was about to step away when a thought struck Portia.
“Officer Peters?”
He turned around.
“How did you find out about Creepy Carl?”
“Someone called it in earlier today,” Officer Peters took off his glasses and rubbed them on his sleeve. “Anonymous tip.”
Anonymous.
Right.
Portia dug into her pocket for her cell phone. She really should call Derek, but there was another call she wanted to make first. The phone answered on the first ring.
“Wow. Today must be my lucky day.”
“Khai,” Portia walked the few feet over to her front steps. “Did you happen to know that there are cops on my street arresting Creepy Carl and going through his place as we speak?”
“Is that so? Gotta love NYPD. Outstanding police force.”
“Indeed,” Portia sat on her front steps. “You wouldn’t know why they’re arresting Carl, would you?”
“Probably for voyeurism and stalking. Did you know he’s on the sex offender list in another state? You never know who’s living next to you.”
“You tipped off the police, didn’t you?”
He chuckled. “All that matters is you’re safe.”
Safe.
A warm tingly feeling stirred in her middle at Khai’s words. She sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. She knew without a doubt she was going to regret the next words out of her mouth.
“One date.”
“Say that again?”
She couldn’t help but smile at the delight in his voice.
“You heard me.”
He let out a satisfied sigh. “I do love the way you say thank you.”
“Then you’ll love this part even more. This is your last chance. If you screw it up, not only am I never dating you again, I’m firing you.”
He laughed. “Derek must let you do all the business negotiations.”
“Good night, Khai.”
“Good night, beautiful. Be ready Saturday night at six-thirty.”
She ended the call and dropped her head into her hands. Khai and her. On a date. Such a bad combination. She had to be crazy to do this again. What was even crazier was that she could hardly wait for Saturday to come.
Chapter 4
Portia checked herself in the mirror one last time. The forest green dress she decided on had three-quarter length sleev
es and went all the way to her knees with a gold zipper that ran the length of her back from the neckline to the hem. It would have almost been church appropriate except that it fit like a glove - nice and snug.
Maybe too snug.
She could stand to lose a pound or two. Couldn’t she?
No. Stop it.
She pushed the thought out of her head and turned away from the mirror before it could wreak havoc. She looked great. She was a perfectly healthy size. Before her thoughts could get anymore warped, she walked out of the bathroom towards the top of the stairs where her purse and shoes were already laid out. She leaned against the wall to put on her shoes. Her fingers brushed against a post-it note, which subsequently floated to the ground. Portia stooped to pick it up even as her eyes scrolled over the handwritten lines.
This is what the Lord says: “Cursed is the one who trusts in man, who draws strength from mere flesh and whose heart turns away from the Lord.”
With one shoe on and one off, she sat on the top step and reread the text from Jeremiah 17:5 again. She almost had it memorized having seen it every morning since she placed it there the Sunday prior. With the nature of her life, she usually found that trying to read chapters a day did nothing for her. But picking one Bible text per week and letting it ruminate in her mind was effective.
Cursed is the one who trusts in man...
Well, that wasn’t a hard one. She had never been one to depend on others. Her therapist thought that was part of her whole problem. But if you left things to people, they sometimes didn’t get done properly. Who wanted to chance that?
...who draws strength from mere flesh and whose heart turns away from the Lord.
Hadn’t that been the picture of her life when Anorexia first got a hold of her? Trying by her own strength to make herself into the image she had in her head. But she never seemed to get there, was never quite good enough. And she’d carried around that feeling of unworthiness like a painful injury that refused to heal.
But today was different. Today, she knew her worth. She was a sister, a daughter, a friend, and a business woman that people depended on. They needed her, and that made her life worthwhile.
The doorbell rang. She smiled knowing there was a gorgeous man on the other side waiting for her. She slipped on her other shoe, grabbed the matching purse and headed down the stairs.
Unexpectedly, butterflies filled her stomach as she reached for the doorknob. Why was she nervous? It wasn’t as if she and Khai hadn’t gone out before. Even outside of that, they often shared banter at events involving Solid where they had to be together. Tonight should be no big deal.
She opened the door and found Khai waiting on the other side, dressed in a dark suit and gray tie. She felt her breath lodge in her throat.
Okay, so maybe it was going to be a big deal.
She had never seen him in a suit, or with his hair slicked back like that. He was gorgeous. And she was in so much trouble.
He whistled. “Wow. I knew you could work a dress but...” he shook his head. “You look amazing.”
Portia let herself soak in the compliment. She appreciated the look in Khai’s eyes as he looked her over. She smiled and stepped out into the cool evening, running her hands over his silk tie. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”
He smelled amazing. As always. She was going to have to watch herself tonight. She closed the front door then allowed him to lead her down the steps to the Infiniti Essence waiting at the curb.
“Another rental?” Portia asked.
He smiled as he reached for the door. “It takes me a while to commit to a car.”
Portia smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
She took a step towards the open door. Before she could get any further, Khai stopped her with an arm around her waist. She lost her breath once more as the space between them went from feet to inches.
“What are you doing?” Her voice squeaked.
Khai smiled. His green eyes were a swirling mist daring her to come in. “Well, just in case the rest of this night doesn’t go well, I’d like to get dessert out of the way first.”
She met his gaze without moving. “Betting against yourself, Khai?”
Her heart pounded fiercely as he moved in closer, his eyes centering on her mouth. “Just being realistic about my odds.”
She didn’t try to stop him when his lips descended on hers, brushing across them lightly before adding pressure. He teased them open, teasing her heart into a tizzy. Is this how white boys kissed? Or was this particular white boy just a natural expert at what he was doing? She didn’t know, and her brain was too busy shorting out for her to think about it. It was making her do things that Portia usually wouldn’t, like scrape her fingers over the dusting of a beard on his jaw line and tuck herself into his arms.
All of her senses were suddenly awake, alive to every sensation. The heat of his body surrounded her. The minty coolness of his breath. The tiny growl in the back of his throat when she finally kissed him back. She felt everything all at once and the combination was delicious. He was delicious. For a moment, Portia forgot that she was supposed to be making this hard for him.
He pulled back breathless, his eyes simmering coals under hooded lids. “You know, we don’t actually have to go out for dinner.”
She ran a thumb over his lips. She wiped away traces of her lipstick, giving herself time to catch her own breath. “You’re taking me out to dinner, Khai. A good dinner. I deserve a do-over.”
He nodded as his eyes watched her sink into the front seat. “Yes, ma’am.”
***
“Full disclosure? I totally took you here in an attempt to impress you.”
Portia sighed. “Full disclosure? I am totally impressed.”
She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as he led her up the steps. From the corner of her eye, she could see him looking at her again. The same way he had after she let him kiss her, and again in the car on the ride over when she let him put his hand on hers as it rested on the armrest between them. She wanted to laugh out loud because she knew exactly what he was thinking. Who was this woman and what had she done with Portia?
The Portia he knew always made him keep his distance. But the Portia tonight was different. The Portia tonight just wanted to enjoy the company of a handsome man who was attracted to her. Two years had passed since a man had really kissed her. One kiss from Khai had dispelled all the notions in her head that she hadn’t missed it. She was going to be careful. Extra careful. But she was going to enjoy herself, because knowing Khai, he would mess it up and then she would have to make good on her promise to him, which meant it might be a long time before she had a night like this again.
Besides, it wasn’t every night you got to go to the opening of Pour Deux. Based solely on a philanthropic concept, a protégé of Chef Gordon Ramsey had opened this eclectic, upscale restaurant.
“How did you even get tickets to this thing?” Portia asked as he led her through the open doors behind a swarm of other well-dressed guests. “I heard it was completely sold out. Oh my goodness! Is that Chef Ramsey, himself?”
Khai chuckled. “Probably. But I wouldn’t stare if I were you. You know how brutal he can be.”
“I was so impressed when I heard about this place,” Portia said leaning close to his ear. “The idea of five star chefs preparing meals for the homeless is brilliant. Good food should be available to everyone, not just those who can afford to drop a hundred dollars per plate.”
“I am more impressed with the part where they get those who can afford it to pay for it. At least now when I see the exorbitant price I know I am really feeding two people instead of just one.”
Khai handed over their tickets to a hostess.
“Please, wait just a moment. Your waiter will be with you shortly to guide you to your table.”
Portia looked over at Khai and raised an eyebrow. “Our own waiter? Fancy, fancy.”
Khai cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, did I hap
pen to mention that this is a dark event?”
Portia frowned. “You cannot mean what I think you mean?”
He gave a little nod as he grinned. When the waiter appeared in night vision goggles, Portia knew her fears had been accurate. She grabbed his arm.
“Khai, no!”
He tucked his hand over hers. “Come on. It will be fun. Not your typical first date. But we are way past first date levels, don’t you think?”
She glared at him.
He held up his hands. “Okay, okay. We can leave and find a boring little restaurant. I mean, if you’re scared I wouldn’t—”
“I’m not scared.”
He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Who said I was scared?” she squeaked.
He dropped his eyes to her hand. She was gripping his arm so tight, her knuckles were white. She let go and sucked in a deep breath. “I’m not scared. I would...uh...I would love to do this.”
The side of his mouth quirked up. “You sure?”
She nodded, unsure if she had any more words left. But she did take Khai’s arm again as they headed into a dark lit lounge area.
“Oh, this is not so bad,” Portia mused as their waiter led them over to the bar.
“This is just the introduction,” Khai whispered. They sat with several other guests at the bar, sipping drink samples while they waited for the rest of their party. Portia smiled and nodded at a group of two women and a man who would also be sitting at their table. Apparently eating with strangers was part of the dine in the dark experience. As they waited for instructions, she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. In the dark? Unable to see anything, not knowing what she was eating? Who did this? This was crazy. But it was also a little exciting. She had never been on a date like this before. She glanced over at Khai who had struck up a conversation with the man next to him. She smiled. He definitely got points for creativity.
