by Imani King
“Well why don’t we go together? My treat!”
The sudden warmth in her liquid brown eyes bowls me over. She's positively glowing. Then her face falls. "But I could never take advantage like that -" she begins.
"It would be my honor," I smile, in what I hope is a magnanimous, but not smarmy way. "You’re not here for much longer after all. Unless you want to be, of course. I would be happy to do my part to help make your time here work for you.
“You brighten up the office, if you don’t mind me saying." As I say it, I realize it's true. There's just something so beautiful about the way her eyes sparkle, the gentle curve of her nose, and the smile playing on her soft, full lips. "And besides, you do great work," I add.
"Well then, who could say no to that?" She asks. Her practiced hands arrange a light scarf around her neck and brush her wild curls away from her face. She grabs her purse.
"How does Justine’s sound? I’ve heard good things," It's only two blocks away. Is that rude to propose a date so soon? The problem is, I've come this far and I don't think I can turn back. All I want to do is pick her up and take her home with me. If only I could...
"Perfect," her voice is smooth and soft, almost mesmerizing. I'm almost embarrassed to say so but I find my pants getting a bit tighter across the front, thinking of her lips speaking my name earlier. I turn away from her, a little embarrassed, and afraid she will see the heat in my eyes.
"Well this will be a treat," I say. "Are you close to your brother and sister? I’d like to meet them sometime."
"That sounds fun! We'll have to count on it!"
"Do they like skating? Do they have skates?" The pond behind my house is frozen over now. I always pictured my own little ones swirling around the ice.
"I'm sure they'd love it, but they grew out of their skates last year," she says, a wry smile on her face.
"No problem. We can pick some up before then," I hold the door for her and watch her go through it, her curves catching my eye a little too well. Dial it back, Nicholas, I tell myself. Don't embarrass the poor girl.
"Really?" There's a peal of hope in her eyes, a childlike happiness. After all, I remember, these aren't her children -- they're her brother and sister. Perhaps she would like skates as well.
"Sure. You too, unless you're a size 8.5." I remember my ex's skates that went unused. She won't need them. "I have an extra pair of those."
"I could be, with a pair of thick socks," she smiles. Adorably.
"We'll give it a try. Sometime soon, maybe Saturday," I grin back. Hell, I'd buy her a new pair if she prefers. I'd buy her an arena so she could skate every day if she wants.
"So you're originally from Texas?" She asks."What made you move to New York?"
"Oh, you know, work," I say vaguely. It's mostly true. Work and I guess, Stephanie, my ex. She was a true New York woman, Bergdorf's, Bloomies, everything. I didn't realize that she wasn't what I was looking for, but by the time I realized it, it was too late. "But I did end up falling in love with the city. And some of my brothers live here so it’s a pretty natural fit."
We are reaching the parking garage. "Did you want to walk or shall I drive?"
“I think it would be nice to walk,” she says, and her arm wraps around mine. I could stay like this forever.
We walk at a good pace down the avenue, which is still lit up with winter decorations, making it sparkling and beautiful - but the wind is biting enough that she snuggles in further to my side. I almost put my arm around her, but I don’t want to pressure the poor girl.
By the time we get to Justine’s, it’s started to snow a bit. Adisa tries to catch a few flakes in her mittens. I’m rather glad she’s not catching them in her mouth. Seeing her pink tongue would be a bit much for me to bear right about now.
The place is warmly lit, the mahogany wood glowing from the light of old lanterns. We hang up our jackets and squeeze into a booth with dark red leather seats. She is absolutely luminous in the seat across from me, and for a moment I am speechless, just staring at her beautiful mocha skin, sparkling dark eyes, and unruly curls. She looks ageless, almost - the eyes of a teenager, the poise of a woman, the innocence of a girl. Luckily for me, before long a waitress comes to the table and breaks the tension.
“Hey there, you two! What can I get you to drink?”
“I’ll have a bourbon on the rocks,” she says. I’m impressed.
“Make that two.” I look at Adisa with new eyes. “I thought you might be a bourbon girl,” I say.
“For sure. I don’t drink too much or too often, but when I do I like to enjoy it.” Her smile lights up her eyes, and I am consumed with the urge to kiss her yet again.
“Exactly my thought.” The drinks arrive and our conversation begins to flow a little easier, a little smoother. At one point I take her hand and play with her fingers a bit, and there is an electrical spark at a mere touch of our skin. In the soft light can see a glimmer of lipstick on her glass and I am mesmerized by the thought of her lips. She must think I’m ridiculous, fawning over her like this, but I can’t help it. She is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. But she seems to be sneaking glances at me as well. Her lashes hide her eyes for a moment and then she looks up at me, I am almost stopped dead in my tracks.
The two hours pass like two minutes, sitting with Adisa. I’ve never simultaneously felt so excited to be with someone and so comfortable. I wish our time didn’t have to end so soon.
We walk back slowly, her arm back curled around mine, in a companionable silence, watching the snow fall and land on our coats, then slowly melt into nothingness.
"I had a lovely time," she says, and smiles again, a light in her deep eyes. "But I have to pick up my little brother and sister for 7pm, so I’d better get a move on."
"Ok, well we'll talk about details for Saturday, but for now, is noon ok?"
"Wonderful," she says. Her skin glows. I almost can’t control the strong urge to gather her up in my arms and kiss her. First softly, then harder. Then all over. There seems to be a palpable electricity between us. But am I the only one who feels it? How do you tell?
"Great," I turn away. "See you later, Adisa with an A," I toss over my shoulder.
Her smile is bright against her mocha skin. "Bye, Nicholas," she says, before walking across the parking lot to her car. Damn, she is cute. And she said my name again. I want to jump in the air, I'm so filled with joy.
7
Adisa
I fumble with the door handle as I am getting into the car. I hope he doesn’t see. Those gorgeous blue eyes! Leaning my head back against the headrest, I try to take some deep breaths. I am shaking, thinking of how handsome he is. And when we were that close, I could even smell a hint of cologne - a woody, warm fragrance that invited me closer.
"Adisa, you're in trouble," I say to myself. Then I open my eyes suddenly. "And you're nearly late!" Looking at the clock, I worry I might not be able to make it to the school on time, and the kids will panic. Turning the key in the ignition, I expect the car not to leap into life exactly, but at least putter itself awake so that I can get to the kids' school. But nothing. Nothing happens. It's completely dead.
Oh great. What am I gonna do now? I reach in my purse and grab my phone, hoping I can get in touch with somebody. Anybody. A neighbor. I just don't want those kids to wait a minute longer than they absolutely have to. Things are hard enough. If I could just count on my dad, it would make things a heck of a lot easier. But now the phone is in my hand and I can't think of a single person to call.
But Nicholas pulls up beside me and again, I think his automobile is the shiniest, most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my whole life.
"Hey, everything ok?" He asks. There's a bit of concern knitted into his brow. God he's sexy when he wrinkles his forehead like that. Those dark eyebrows, those light eyes.
"Well, not really," I say. "My car won't start. I don't know what happened, but I have to get to school to pick up Darius and Chikae. I don’t wan
t to keep them waiting, especially since it’s after hours."
"Well, don't fret," he smiles. "I'm more than happy to give you a lift. I was just going to go home and knock about by myself in my house anyway."
"Are you... for real?" I ask. I can feel that my jaw has dropped open. I hope I don't look like a goldfish.
"Of course," he says. "I'd be happy to."
A million thoughts are running through my head. Do I really want to introduce him to my brother and sister? But it’s ok, he is my boss after all. Why is he doing this? Is he interested in me? What's that sparkle in his eye? Is he maybe, just being nice, and not interested at all? Am I crazy? Do I want him to see our house? Isn’t he married?
The main thing is, I don't really have a choice. No matter what I think about his offer, the most important element in my life right now is those kids. And if he drives me to pick them up, they're going to have the most stable resolution to this problem.
"Well, then, I'd be delighted," I say.
"Excellent." His smile beams. "Allow me," he says, putting the car in park and jumping out. In a moment he's opening the door for me, and I climb out, hoping he doesn't notice the discolorations on the seat, or the stray juice box that I keep pestering Darius to take when he leaves.
I get in and sink down into the most comfortable leather cushion that I could ever imagine. Each curve of the seat cradles my own, and the seat belt goes around my hips with a discreet click. The engine purrs into life tastefully, but with an understated power. SO this is what having money is like, I guess. Every part of your life envelops you, comforts you, takes you where you need to be.
We sail out of the parking garage, and gently into traffic, while music plays softly. I direct him to the school, when suddenly across the speakers there's a telephone call.
"Nicholas," barks the voice on the other end of the line. "I have news!"
"This isn't really a good ti-" Nicholas says, and if I'm not mistaken, there's a bit of a flush coming into his cheeks.
"You're divorced!" The voice brays. "The extra money worked, and she signed. You know what this means? The hell is over!"
"Um, thanks a lot, George,” Nicholas says, “but I have someone in the car right now." He’s definitely blushing. "Can I call you back?"
The voice sounds very mildly chastened. "Sure, call me back, asap."
"Will do." There's a click and then the soft music returns, and along with it a pregnant pause. He's divorced! That means he's available. How wonderful. A surge begins in my heart, warmly glowing, before suffusing through my body.
"Sorry about that," He flicks his eyes at me, for a second, as he negotiates the traffic.
"That's all right," I murmur. He's available. I don't want to embarrass him, so I just give him a few more directions.
"We really weren't meant for each other, Stephanie and I," he suddenly says. He looks at me, and there is a warm depth to his eyes. "It shouldn't have happened in the first place, and I don't hold it against her... It's really nobody's fault, but sometimes things just don't work out."
"Mmmm," I say, not wanting to comment. After all, he is my boss.
"Are you involved with anyone, Adisa?" he asks. "Forgive me, you don't have to answer that." He clears his throat, and I can feel a certain electricity between us, humming in the air between the seats.
"No, not really," I say. I look out the window. The last boyfriend I had was a guy named Jamal, who tended to show up an hour late for our dates and acted as if I were lucky that he even showed up at all. That didn't last, obviously. "Not for a while now." I look at his hands which clutch the steering wheel. They're big, masculine. His forearms look strong, capable. I want to caress them, pull his hand toward me, and hold it in mine. I look away.
"That's a shame," he says. “You’re such a lovely woman.” His voice is low now, and it seems like he means it’s anything but a shame that I’m available. I fight the urge to scoot over next to him. What is going on? Is he trying to ask me out for real? He clears his throat again. "Are we almost there?"
"Yes, just around this corner," I smile, and try to sound business-like. "This is really very kind of you, Mr. Corbett," I say. I'd blame it on habit, but it's really out of fear that I revert back to his full name.
"Nicholas," he says, turning to me. "I love how it sounds in your voice.”
That's it. I am about to grab him and plant the biggest kiss on his lips that he's ever had.
"Nicholas," I breathe. The tension in the car is so thick you could cut it with the proverbial knife. I am tingling.
He reaches over and touches my cheek, before turning his eyes back to the road. I feel like I am made of shimmering molecules. I guess I am, but I’ve lost any sense of my body. I’m simply all electricity.
"Here we are, on the right," I manage to say, and then I see them, looking so small under the streetlamp.
He pulls over and we look at each other, each of us letting out a small sigh. "I'll let them know we're here."
"Yes, good idea," he says, breaking our eye contact, and with it, the moment dissipates into the ether.
I open the door, and Chikae and Darius are running toward the silver steed that is his car, eyes wide with awe and surprise.
8
Nicholas
Keep it together buddy, I say to myself, but it comes across in my brother Rowan's voice. He used to try to look out for me when we were younger. I guess I was always a bit of a sensitive one, and he knew I needed that extra pair of eyes on my back, keeping me safe. We are not all that different, we Corbett brothers. What a group of boys our parents had back in Texas. And now we are scattered. Even if we live in the same city, like Dylan and I do, we are still far apart from one another in some ways. But we still have fun when we get together. And my brother Saint, he almost doesn’t count since he doesn’t seem to want anything to do with us.
Still the relationship between us all is nothing like the obvious love that I see in Adisa's family. Her brother and sister absolutely light up when they see her. Kinda like I do. I don't know what it is, exactly why she is so beautiful. It’s like the French mean by saying she has a certain ‘je ne sais quoi.’ It's not just her physical side, it's also her soul. Something ineffable that glows through her mocha skin. She's a kind person, a person with depth. And all that comes shining through when you see her with those kids.
After they finish hugging, and Adisa settles them into the car, I can tell that she is just about to introduce me when Darius blurts, in a way only a boy can, "Who's this dude?"
"Darius, he's not a dude, he's my boss," admonishes Adisa. He can't see it from where he’s sitting, but there's a gleam of amusement in her eyes. "He’s offered to give us a lift because my car broke down. Please give him the proper respect."
“Ok. Who's this boss?" He says, and now we can't help but laugh. "And where did he get this sweet ride?"
"I'm Nicholas," I say. "You can call me Nicholas."
"Nicholas," says the girl. "I'm Chikae." She squirms in her seat. "And I have to go to the bathroom."
"Can you hold it until we get home, or do we need to stop somewhere?" asks Adisa.
"Are we going straight home?" Her eyes frame her concern.
"Yes," says Adisa. "Straight home."
"Then I'mma be all right," she says bravely. "As long as it's straight home." Her voice is stern.
"Home, Jeeves," shouts Darius, with a sorry attempt at an English accent.
"Darius, respect," warns Adisa, as she cradles her head in her hands. But her shoulders are shaking with laughter. What an adorable family. It's so nice to be part of a family, even if it's just for a quick car ride home. I'm going to look forward to taking them to the property and skating on Saturday.
"Sorry Mr. Boss Man," he says, chastened.
"Nicholas," I say again. But I'm grinning hugely.
"Mr. Nicholas," he says, before turning to Adisa. "Is that like St. Nicholas? We learned about him in school last month." He pulls out a dilapidated mess
of red construction paper and cotton balls. "His name is Santa Boss Man!"
"Perhaps it is," says Adisa, finally regaining control of herself. "He's going to take you to skating on Saturday."
The kids can't contain their excitement. They’re squealing, bouncing, talking all at once.
"If - and I do mean if - you behave yourselves the next few days," she adds, silencing them for a moment. "Clean up after yourselves, do your homework, and no whining."
"Yes, mommy," comes the high-pitched little voice of Chikae. "I mean, sis." Her eyes go downcast again, but Darius starts loudly singing "Ho, ho ho! Who wouldn't go? Ho, ho ho! Who wouldn't go?" By the time he gets to the "Up on the housetop, click, click, click," all of us join in with "Down through the chimney with good Saint Nick!" and I see the radiant smile coming from Adisa, and both kids beaming in the back seat.
For a moment, one glorious moment, I feel part of a real family, and I clear my throat to try to battle the sudden feeling that I might cry.
"We're here!" says Adisa. "You kids run on in and check on daddy." Her voice is calm, maternal, kind. Turning to me she says, "Thank you so much Nicholas. I don't know what I would have done without you."
"It's really my pleasure," I say, knowing it's true. "I really like your little brother and sister, and I’m most definitely looking forward to Saturday. Should we exchange numbers?"
"Sounds like a plan," she says, pulling out a flip-phone that looks like it's from 1996. I'm almost embarrassed to get out my state of the art phone, so I just tell her my number and ask her to text me. When I get the reassuring sound of a alert coming in over the speakers, I push ignore and the soft music wafts through the car.
"Well I guess I should go in and make some dinner." Her eyes are downcast, her voice a bit more soft.
I think the moment is broken, but then she looks back at me and something in her eyes lets me know that she is touched too. I lean over quickly and brush my lips on her soft cheek.
