Southern Love

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Southern Love Page 4

by Synithia Williams


  He shook his head. “Yes we do. My feelings won’t change.”

  She looked at the ring on her finger. Maybe it was more than cold feet making her sick at the thought of marriage. “Perhaps we rushed into this.” When he didn’t reply, she continued, “I don’t know if getting married is the right thing to do.”

  He slowly took a step back but still did not speak.

  She began to pull the ring off, but he rushed over to stop her. “I realize you’re upset right now and that’s why you’re saying this.” When she started to interrupt him, he held up his hand. “Don’t say anything right now. I love you, and I’m not going to lose you. I’ll call you tomorrow, and we’ll discuss it then.”

  “Brad, we need to talk about this … ”

  “Not tonight. We’re both upset and may say things we don’t mean.” He kissed her briefly on the cheek. “I love you, and I’ll call tomorrow,” he said softly as he turned and walked out.

  Kenyatta looked down at the ring on her finger and took it off. She’d only worn it for less than twenty-four hours so no one would notice, but it felt as if she’d ended a long engagement. Or, at least she’d tried to. She couldn’t say that her and Brad were over, or that she wanted them to be.

  The sound of a car chase on the television was the only noise in her apartment. As she stood there, the doubts began to sink in. She wanted to marry and have a family. She wanted the kind of solid foundation her parents had, and that type of foundation didn’t happen by allowing lust to rule her decisions. It happened when two stable people trusted each other enough to build a life together. That’s why she’d stayed with Brad. Maybe she was overreacting. Brad was offering her something most women would be ecstatic to have — a man that wanted to take care of his wife was a dream. Wasn’t it?

  She turned off the TV and faced the silence of her home. Were her dreams less important than Brad’s? No. She’d worked too hard to build up her career. She’d given up passion, romance and other frivolous pursuits in order to land — and excel at — her dream job. She couldn’t sacrifice everything that made her happy just for stability, could she?

  Brad was the only man she’d let get close to her in years. Twice before her heart had been broken, and he’d come in and slowly gotten her to believe there were still good guys in the world. So what if he didn’t make her pulse pound or her breasts ache the way Malcolm did? Men like that didn’t want to take care of her; they just wanted to sleep with her. And what did Malcolm have to do with this anyway?

  She walked over and locked the door behind Brad, knowing that if he chose to come back, he could use the key he’d insisted on having after she’d agreed to marry him. She took a deep breath. Tomorrow was going to be a struggle. If she knew Brad, he would call both her mother and his to tell them she broke things off. Both his mother and hers would call and tell her she was making a mistake, and things would be better when she came to her senses. Maybe they were right. But unless Brad began to understand how important her career was to her, this wouldn’t work. No matter how safe, secure, and patient he was.

  Chapter 5

  Kenyatta arrived at work the next day ready to face whatever came her way. Her attempt to break up with Brad unnerved her. She was still unsure if it was the right decision, but she couldn’t tie herself to Brad if he didn’t support her. Getting married would only make Brad’s dream of a perfect life come true, not hers.

  As she walked into the office, she noticed a large bouquet of peace lilies on the receptionist’s desk. She walked over to admire them and smiled at the receptionist, Grace.

  “Well, someone must have done something good last night,” Kenyatta teased. “Who’s the man you’ve been hiding, Grace?”

  Grace smiled back at Kenyatta. “Sorry to disappoint you, but they aren’t for me. They just came and the delivery guy said they were for a Ms. Kenyatta Copeland. So, you must have done something very good last night.” Grace pushed her glasses back up her nose and tucked an errant blond curl behind her ear.

  She wasn’t surprised when she read the card. You don’t mean it, Brad, Kenyatta sighed.

  “I was not a very good girl last night.” Kenyatta said to herself.

  “Well, sometimes being a bad girl will get you flowers, too.” Grace said with a laugh.

  Kenyatta gave a weak smile in return and picked up the vase of flowers. She turned to go down the hall when Mr. Summers stopped her.

  “Oh, Kenyatta, I see you’ve received flowers.” He smiled at her and eyed the bouquet. He was a tall, thin man, with dull brown eyes, and thinning gray hair. “I remember when my wife and I were your age. We were so happy. I would send her small gifts as a surprise just because. I see that Brad is from the same school of thought.” He winked at her. “Good man.”

  Kenyatta nodded as he walked away and once again started down the hall. Three more coworkers stopped her, commenting on her beautiful flowers and how lucky she was to have a man like Brad. She wanted to throw the flowers out the window and scream. If Brad wanted to show everyone how great he was, he succeeded.

  Once she was in her office, she placed the flowers on the table in front of the window. She turned around and was startled to find Malcolm standing in the doorway. He reminded her of a dark knight in his charcoal gray silk suit, matching blue shirt and tie. Why did he always have to look so good?

  His gaze left her and focused on the flowers. “It looks like Brad is reminding everyone why you’re marrying him.” He walked across the office to stand beside her. “They are lovely.”

  Although he spoke of the flowers, he was looking at her.

  She blushed in embarrassment. “Yes, they are nice. We had a fight last night, and he thinks this will make things better.”

  She didn’t know why she volunteered this information; she never told Malcolm any personal business between her and Brad, but the words flowed without thought.

  “The perfect way to say I’m sorry is with flowers. It’s very original.”

  Kenyatta heard the sarcasm in his voice and came to Brad’s defense. “They’re peace lilies. He’s clever.”

  “No, he’s not trying very hard. He’ll send flowers to say I’m sorry instead of coming to you like a man, maybe with flowers in hand, and telling you he’s sorry and that you shouldn’t break your engagement.”

  “How do you know I — ”

  He pointed at her hand. “The ring is missing. So I guess congratulations were a bit premature.”

  She touched her hand self-consciously. “Nothing is set in stone. I wouldn’t say we’re completely over.”

  The corner of his mouth twisted but he changed the subject. “So, are you still prepared to take on the challenge of presenting?”

  Kenyatta turned and faced him fully. “Yes, more today than yesterday. I promise to do my best not to let you down … or the company.”

  Malcolm frowned. “You won’t let us down. You’re one of our best associates. That’s why I’m giving you this opportunity. Why would you think you might not do a good job?”

  His praise surprised her. Although he’d given her the perfunctory “Good job” before, he’d never told her she was one of the company’s best associates. “Thanks, Malcolm. That means a lot, especially coming from you. Someone questioned my abilities yesterday, and it’s hard to shake off feelings of inadequacy.”

  Malcolm’s eyes locked with hers. “Whoever questioned your talent is a fool. You are great at what you do. You’ve accomplished a lot in the few years you’ve worked with us — not to mention your work in graduate school. Don’t let anyone say you’ll deliver less than one hundred ten percent because it’s simply not true.”

  Happiness bubbled within her. This was what she needed, someone to support her, not tear her down. Too bad it was Malcolm, she thought. She wouldn’t read more into the exchange than necessary. He was simply praising hi
s employee, not wooing a woman he was interested in. Still, she smiled before turning back toward the flowers.

  She opened her mouth to tell Malcolm that Brad was the fool when the telephone rang. She moved from his side to answer the phone.

  “Kenyatta Copeland,” she said into the phone.

  “What is this nonsense about you breaking up with Brad? That man loves you, and he’s better than those other fools you’ve brought around here. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want a man to take care of you. Do you plan for your job to keep you warm at night?” Adele Copeland fussed over the phone in her usual overly dramatic way.

  Kenyatta turned to Malcolm who was still standing near her window. “I’m sorry, Malcolm, but I need to take this. Can we finish later?”

  “Sure, I’ll catch up with you before lunch. I need to ask you about the Cayce project.”

  As he walked out of the office, Kenyatta turned her attention back to her mother.“Mom, please try to understand. He’s not supportive of my career.”

  “What’s wrong with a man wanting his woman at home running things? I stayed at home and raised you. And you do love him, Kenyatta. You can’t just fall out of love with someone within twenty-four hours.”

  “Mom, it wasn’t in the space of twenty-four hours. Brad and I do complement each other, but this has been an issue for a long time. Last night it really hit me that Brad is never going to change.”

  Adele sighed. “And why would you want him to change? He has a great job, he adores you, and he wants to take care of you. Those are not the qualities you want a man to change.”

  Kenyatta was thankful her mother didn’t notice her avoidance of the topic of loving Brad, but rolled her eyes as she tried to think of a way to convince her mother that it was just as important to have someone who supports your dreams. It was a hopeless battle. Her mother had imagined her with Brad from the moment her father brought him home for dinner. She was sure that before he even asked Kenyatta to marry him, her mother was making wedding plans.

  “Mom, if you want me to be happy, you’ll try and understand that — ”

  “If I want you to be happy, I’ll convince you that you’re making a huge mistake. Even your father thinks that you’re not behaving rationally, and you know how much he usually goes along with your little schemes,” her mother snipped. “Kenyatta, all I’m asking is for you to truly think this over, and don’t give up this relationship without thinking it through. I know you want to advance your career, and I know that you like your independence, but this is a good man. A good man who loves you, wants to marry you, and take care of you. Don’t break things off without thinking of all the consequences.”

  Her mother made a valid point. She was upset last night when she told Brad she couldn’t marry him. He was a good man, but was he the good man for her? Until she made up her mind, she would not argue with her mother.

  “Okay, Mom, I understand. I’ll think things over while I’m out of town next week.”

  Kenyatta could hear the smile in her mother’s voice. “That’s all I ask. Well, I won’t keep you longer than necessary. I know you’re very busy, so just give me a call this weekend.”

  “Sure, Mom. Tell Dad I said hello.”

  “I will. Goodbye, Kenyatta.”

  Kenyatta hung up the phone and wanted to scream. This was just the beginning. She could expect a call from Brad’s mother before the day was over. That phone call came right before lunch, and it was like talking to her mother all over again. He loves you, he wants to marry you, and he wants to take care of you. Kenyatta’s frustration blossomed like the flowers Brad had sent. Since when did a twenty-eight-year-old woman need someone else to be solely responsible for her care?

  Between the phone calls came more surprises from Brad: candy, balloons, and a teddy bear. She knew he was trying to break down her resolve, and as much as she hated to admit it, his ploys were weakening her arguments.

  After she got off the phone with Brad’s mother, she sighed and put her head on her desk. She wouldn’t survive too many more of Brad’s antics. Her stomach growled, and she looked at the clock. The conversation with Brad’s mom had taken forty-five minutes. She hated going to lunch after 12:30. The crowds were always awful.

  She took a deep breath and sat up just as Malcolm walked into her office. He looked at the assortment of items delivered to her and laughed. She remembered what he said earlier about Brad not coming to apologize in person. He hadn’t called yet, which wasn’t unusual when they fought. He tended to let things cool off before seeing her in person. He was probably waiting for the words of their mothers to sink into her thoughts. Still, seeing the situation through Malcolm’s eyes allowed her to understand why it would appear weak.

  He gestured to the items in her office. “You’ve had a busy morning.” He crossed his arms and leaned against her door. “I thought you might like to do lunch?”

  Kenyatta looked at him and all the thoughts from her conversations with her mom and Brad’s mother slipped from her mind. He looked calm and composed, as if nothing could rattle him. She wished at that moment she had an ounce of his composure because she wanted to break something.

  “Sure. I really could use the break.” She stood up and stretched, not realizing the movement caused her shirt to strain against her chest. When she looked back at Malcolm, he was looking at her breasts and her nipples tightened in response. She turned away from him quickly and pretended to look for something in her desk.

  “Who else is coming?” she asked.

  “Just us.” When her jaw dropped, he smiled. “I thought we could discuss the trip next week.”

  Feeling conflicted about having lunch alone with him, Kenyatta tried for her most professional tone to hide her nervousness. “That’s fine. Where would you like to eat?”

  “Let’s try the new deli on Main. They’re busy, but I don’t think the noise will prevent us from getting some work done.”

  Kenyatta grinned. “Always thinking about work? Just admit you want to try the new place.”

  He winked. “You’d be surprised to know how much I don’t think about work around you. It’s safer to pretend otherwise.” He stood up straight and cleared his throat. “I’ll meet you around front in five minutes. Don’t take too long,” he chided as he turned and left.

  Kenyatta felt as if he’d knocked her off center. Why would he say something like that? she thought. He couldn’t be flirting with me, could he?

  It was one thing to be attracted to the boss who ignored you, quite another to be attracted to the boss who flirted with you. She reminded herself to focus on work. She was determined to hide how much he affected her.

  Five minutes later, she met Malcolm in the reception area of their office. There was no hint in his expression that he’d given any more thought to what he’d said only a few minutes earlier.

  They took the elevator to the first floor. Their office was located in the middle of Main Street, so it was an easy walk to many nearby restaurants. Downtown Columbia was a mix of old storefronts with three-piece suits hanging in the windows, offices, shops, and restaurants stuck in nooks and crannies along a tree-lined street. It didn’t have the nightlife similar to the downtowns of other capital cities — most of that was in the Five Points or Vista areas — but it was still a vital part of the city.

  They passed the time with idle chitchat about how hot it was — the humidity was especially intense — and if either had plans for the weekend. It didn’t take long for them to walk the three blocks to the new deli the others in the office recommended. Kenyatta released a sigh of relief when the air conditioning hit them as they entered. They ordered at the counter and snagged one of the tables along the windows overlooking Main Street.

  They stuck to neutral topics before moving on to discuss what they should expect at the conference the following week. Kenyatta tried ha
rd to concentrate on what he was talking about, but became distracted every time he licked his lips after biting his sandwich. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. It was as if she’d forgotten all the reasons he was wrong for her after just a few flirtatious exchanges.

  “Did you talk with Grace about getting a flight on Monday?” he asked as they finished their sandwiches.

  “Not yet. I’ve been on the phone all morning. I’ll get with her this afternoon. I’ll admit I’m not too thrilled about flying. I’d rather drive.”

  He smiled at her. “Are you afraid to fly?”

  She returned his smile and sat back. “I know it’s silly, but yeah. It just feels unnatural. Being up there with nothing underneath my feet. I much prefer the interstate.”

  “Flying isn’t my favorite thing either, but I do it so often, I’m used to it. Would you rather rent a car and drive down together?”

  “You’d really do that?”

  He nodded. “I wouldn’t have offered if I weren’t serious.”

  Eight hours in a car with Malcolm. They wouldn’t be able to spend that much time talking about work. She couldn’t imagine spending that long in close contact with a man she found too attractive for words — a man who was exactly what she didn’t need. No, she thought, there is no need to torture myself like that.

  “Thanks for offering, but I’ll be fine with flying.”

  He shrugged. “No problem. I thought I’d offer. Is Brad coming down with you?”

  The question surprised her, especially since he commented on her lack of ring earlier. “No, he’s not coming down.”

  “I’m surprised.” He leaned forward and let his gaze travel along her face. “Brad seems like the type of guy who would want to keep close tabs on you.”

  His study made her self-conscious but she didn’t look away when his eyes returned to hers. “Why would you say that? He doesn’t have a reason to keep tabs on me.”

 

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