by Chanta Rand
Chapter 4
The incessant ringing of Kendra’s cell phone pulled her from her erotic slumber. She’d been having the most delicious dream. She was sitting in Mark’s lap, feeling the hard slice of satisfaction that poked through his pants. Now, some inconsiderate fool had the nerve to wake her. It had been months since she’d had a good fuck. Now, it seemed she couldn’t get laid even in her dreams.
She grunted and with Herculean effort, rolled over and eyeballed the digital clock on her nightstand. Nine a.m. on a Saturday? Who could be calling? Everyone in her family knew she slept late. Her sister, Shanice was in her weekly Yoga class. Her brother, Jorell was still deployed in Afghanistan. Her parents would only call if there was an emergency.
Omigod! Somebody must be dead.
She sat up and cocked an ear toward the sound of her cell phone. It was no doubt buried in the bottom of her Louis Vuitton purse–a full twenty feet from her bed. Damn! She hated to leave the comfort of her toasty covers. She sprinted toward the phone dressed in only her bra and panties. She stared at the caller I.D. Tatum! She picked up. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” her best friend whined unconvincingly. “I’m at the spa getting a Detoxifying Black Baltic Mud rub.”
“At nine in the morning?”
“It’s ten here. Remember, the East Coast is one hour ahead. I wish you were here.”
“You and me both, sister.” Her Louie had been tossed around like a loser in a WWF smack-down in her effort to find her cell phone. She sat it upright and placed it on a nearby chair in her bedroom.
“You didn’t answer when I called you last night,” Tatum accused “What happened?”
“Sorry.” Kendra collected a tube of lipstick that had rolled out of her purse. “I was with Mark last night working on that damn Stupid Cupid project.”
“Y’know, it’s not too late to get his voodoo doll out and stick a few pins in it.”
“I threw that out when he gave me a raise last year.”
“Seems you were too premature.”
Kendra slid back beneath the warm duvet on her queen-sized bed, but not before seeing a single red, long-stemmed rose on her pillow. A note was attached. Enjoyed your company last night. It was signed M. She gasped.
“What?” Tatum demanded.
“How did he get in here?”
“Who?”
“Mark.”
“Oh shit! He’s there?”
“No. I had drinks with him last night. He left me a note and a red rose.” Kendra inhaled the fragrant scent of the flower before stroking its velvety petals against her cheek. It was kinda nice to get a sweet note like that.
“Aw, hell no!” Tatum interjected. “So, that’s why you didn’t answer. But I can’t say I blame you.”
Tatum had first met Mark at a company party. She often joked the first time she saw him she had to get a bib to wipe the drool from her mouth. Ever since she’d been calling him ‘Fine Ass’ Mark Sullivan. “It wasn’t like that, girl. This was business.”
“Whatever. You can file that under D for Disillusioned. I think Mark wants you.”
Kendra chewed the inside of her lip. “This is not good.”
“It sounds good to me! Almost better than this pedicure I’m about to get. You should see the guy who’s gonna do my toes. He’s no Mark Sullivan, but he has muscles for days–and he makes a mean Mimosa.”
Kendra smacked her forehead with her palm. “I just remembered what happened. I got drunk.”
Tatum squealed. “Girl, did you give up the drawers?”
“No!” But she’d wanted to. She remembered desiring Mark with a longing so fierce she thought the heat of it would burn a hole in her panties. Everything about him turned her on. His smile. His hands. His voice. The hard length between his legs. She’d felt it. She’d sat in his lap. It wasn’t a dream. “I…I…Oh, Lord. I had too many shots. I threw up in his car. Then, I passed out.”
“Ugh. Not exactly my idea of foreplay.”
Kendra curled into a fetal position. The perfumed scent of the rose surrounded her. She could not be involved in an office fling again. She’d worked too hard for this. What if things didn’t work out? Would she have to leave her perfect job? Mark was the V.P. of Operations for the Houston branch. It was unlikely he’d leave. This was all because she couldn’t keep her vagina on a leash. How had she let this happen? “I’m so embarrassed. What am I going to do?”
“Call him.”
“No!”
“So, don’t call him.”
“I have to see him today. Remember, I’m on the Stupid Cupid project.”
“Then, be strictly professional.”
“I tried that yesterday.”
“And what happened?”
“I got kissed senseless.”
********
Mark rarely got a chance to see Kendra casually dressed. The way her black denim jeans caressed her shapely thighs was mesmerizing. He shifted his gaze only to allow his eyes to rest briefly on the soft curve of her breasts encased in an onyx cashmere sweater. He’d been waiting for a moment alone with her to see if she’d recovered from last night, but she’d avoided eye contact with him from the moment she’d entered the office three hours ago. There was no evidence of the warm and fuzzy version of Kendra Michaels that he glimpsed last night. The one who had her tongue down his throat and her hands on his balls. Today, she’d been distant, making a point of speaking up only to shoot down all of his ideas during the group meeting.
When the group broke for lunch, he was able to pull her into his office for a sidebar. He made an attempt at humor. “Was it something I said?” he joked.
“No, not at all.” The long sweep of her lashes brushed the tops of her cheeks as she looked down, suddenly preoccupied with her nails.
She was clearly uncomfortable. He snorted. This bashfulness would never do. Where was the spirited woman who could incinerate a man with one glare? He was determined to bring it out of her. “I think we need to talk about what happened last night.”
She shook her head. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“You seem to be taking what happened out on me.” He sat on the edge of his desk, his long legs crossed at the ankles as he reclined. “Are you upset because you kissed me?”
She placed her hands on her hips. “Don’t flatter yourself. And for the record, you kissed me. I responded to the kiss. We had a little fun and I got carried away. End of story. It won’t happen again.”
His heart sank. So, she didn’t view last night with the same appreciation as he did. He hadn’t slept a wink thinking about her lush curves pressed against his body. The cleft of her ass sitting on his erection. The sweet taste of her wine-bathed mouth beneath his. This morning, the scent of her perfume still clung to yesterday’s shirt. Before he came into work today, he’d buried his face in the designer cuff-linked shirt, inhaling her smell. Since the day he met her, he’d been eager to see her “talents” outside the office. He thought last night represented a new beginning for them. Instead, she’d made it clear that would be the end.
She wanted him to be a grown-up about it? No problem. He was her boss, and he didn’t want to intimidate her. Besides, he needed her help for this project. This wasn’t just about them. The future of the agency was in question. People’s livelihoods were at stake. Still, he wanted there to be no misunderstanding of how he felt. “I enjoyed the time we spent together last night.”
She impatiently tapped the toe of her high-heeled boot on the carpet. “Did you enjoy me puking over your fine leather too?”
He grinned. “Not so much. But that was my fault.”
“For plying me with liquor?”
“No. For knowing you so well and getting all the answers to your questions right.” She pinned him with a look that would have made a lesser man look away, but he brazenly stared back, hoping to communicate the desire he felt for her. “I took my car to an all-night car wash, so no harm was done. Some things are worth the troub
le.”
“Wait a minute.” She held up a finger. “How did you know where I lived?”
“I looked at the address on your license. And I let myself in with your key.”
“And you tucked me into my bed?”
He nodded. “After I removed your clothes.” Her face burned red with embarrassment. “They were stained,” he explained. “Casualties of the war…on vomit.”
She managed a smile at that. “So, you snuck out—like a cat burglar.”
He didn’t miss the way she stressed the word cat. “Only I didn’t steal any cat last night,” he promised. “That’s not my style. I prefer my conquests to be conscious.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
He shrugged. “You said you had commitment issues. I wasn’t sure you’d be happy to see me when you woke up. So, I left a note.” He was disappointed that she’d passed out before they could finish their sensual exploration. But his first concern was for her. He wanted to make sure she made it safely to her bed.
His explanation seemed to extinguish the fire of her argument. “Thank you, Mark. And thank you for the rose. It was…thoughtful.”
The cynic in her probably couldn’t bring herself to say the word, romantic. “As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters, Kendra. We don’t have to speak of it again.” He stood and approached her. “To accelerate the Escape with Cupid project, we’re visiting several potential sponsors within the next two weeks. Marge created a spreadsheet of our vendors. Would you be interested in talking with the owner of a candy shop on the list?”
“I was going to work on securing the honeymoon suite with one of our resort partners.”
He could tell she had reservations about being alone with him. “A group of us are going over around lunch today. This vendor has been hesitant to work with us in the past. I know you have great client relationships skills. I could really use your help.” He waited for her response. With her hands on her hips and the lines of her normally lush mouth compressed into a rigid line, her body language was harder to read than braille.
Finally, she gave her answer. “I’ll go.”
********
Sweet Thang! was a confection shop located in an upscale area of Houston known as Rice Village. The Village was a hodgepodge of antique specialty shops that comingled with larger, well-known retailers to offer customers a unique shopping experience that consisted of everything from chocolate-covered grasshoppers and organic beer to Zumba classes and jewelry made of recycled materials.
Lonnie drove the group in his seven-seat minivan. With three-year-old twins and a precocious eight-year-old who sported afro puffs, he needed all the space he could get. As expected for a Saturday morning, parking was at a premium.
“After we’re done here, let’s grab lunch,” Mark suggested. “My treat.”
“I’m down,” Lonnie agreed.
Caleb spoke up. “Banta said there’s a great Chinese restaurant ten minutes from here. It’s called Kim Son’s. Who’s up for General Tso’s Chicken?”
“Sounds good to me,” Marge joined in.
“By the way,” Kendra asked the question she hadn’t had a chance to ask because Marge had dominated the conversation for the entire ride. “Where is Banta?” Marge was nice, but she would talk your head off if you weren’t aggressive enough to stop her.
“Her car wouldn’t start this morning,” Marge answered. “She got up early and took it to the dealership. Can you believe her boyfriend met her up there with a White Caramel Mocha and a cranberry muffin? Wasn’t that romantic?”
“I’ll tell you what’s romantic,” Kendra quipped. “Me getting new spark plugs for my car.”
When Marge giggled, the laugh lines around her coral lipstick deepened. “Don’t you have a Beemer?”
“Honey, that thing is more temperamental than Kanye West in a roomful of photographers.”
Marge cracked up at that one.
Well, if this travel agency gig doesn’t work out, I could always try stand-up comedy. At least one person thinks I’m funny.
When Lonnie parked in the only open spot a block from the store, Marge, Caleb, Mark, and Kendra all piled out and walked the short distance to the candy store. Kendra walked as quickly as her black, knee-high stiletto boots would carry her. She wanted to put distance between herself and Mark. Sitting next to him in the minivan, smelling the clean scent of his aftershave had been pure torture. Thankfully, Marge kept pace, linking her arm in Kendra’s as the two marched past the tempting shop windows. They were on a mission, and it didn’t include being distracted by high heels and handbags. As soon as Kendra opened the door to Sweet Thang! the delicious aroma of chocolate hit her like a gale-force wind.
“God,” Marge inhaled. “Chocolate is my weakness.”
“Mine too,” Kendra agreed. Second only to vodka.
A low whistle pierced the air. “I thought I had the sweetest things in my shop, but now that you two ladies walked in, I see I was mistaken.”
The source of that Barry White voice belonged to a tall drink of handsome standing at the register. He leaned over the counter, his chocolate complexion reminding Kendra of the sweets in the store. His shaved head looked smooth as satin.
A cute teenager in a pink t-shirt with Sweet Thang! etched across the front bounced up to them. “Welcome to Sweet Thang! Would you like a sample?”
As Marge popped a pecan-chocolate cluster into her mouth, Kendra eyed the hunk behind the counter. “You’re missing a t-shirt,” she noted.
He shrugged. “When you own the place, you can wear what you want.”
“You must be Carl Winters,” she said, bestowing a dazzling smile upon him. She knew from her research that he’d built Sweet Thang! into a national brand name within five years.
“At your service.” He left his post and came around to meet them at the same time that Mark, Caleb and Lonnie entered the store. Each person in the group shook hands with him and introduced themselves. “Forgive my earlier remarks,” Carl said. “It’s hard to hold my tongue when I’m surrounded by beauty.” He had a cocky swagger to go along with his rugged good looks.
Kendra tucked her hand in the crook of Carl’s arm. “You made my week! Compliments are welcome anytime.” Okay, maybe she was laying it on a little thick, but Alfonse had made it clear that this promotion was a priority. She didn’t want to be the one who screwed up.
Carl’s movie-star smile was her reward. “Let me show you around, Kendra.”
For the next thirty minutes, Carl gave the group a tour, showed them his numerous awards, and talked to them about his products and special packages. She marveled at the confectionary masterpieces available for sale in the shop. A zombie holding a heart and crafted of liquid sugar stood like a miniature ice sculpture. It was completely edible. Zombies were hot, and after all (according to Carl), zombies needed love too. He and Kendra enjoyed some witty banter, and by the time she was done, Carl had agreed to be a sponsor for Escape with Cupid.
It was all business as usual for her, but when Carl pulled her aside and asked her on a date, she realized maybe she’d overplayed her role. She politely declined, citing her policy of not mixing business with pleasure. If Carl was offended, he didn’t show it. He brushed off her rejection like water on a duck. “Well,” he flashed his dazzling smile, “you know how to reach me if you change your mind.”
Chapter 5
Chivalry was not dead. Kendra stared at the gourmet chocolate arrangement that had been delivered to her office on Monday morning. The chocolate had been manipulated to resemble the Eiffel Tower. White lilies (no doubt made of white chocolate) sprang from the ornate trellis work flanking the tower. She’d never seen anything like it. The attached card read simply, From Your Secret Valentine.
She couldn’t stop the smile from bubbling up inside her. There could only be one person responsible. She’d told him she didn’t mix business with pleasure. Yet, she couldn’t deny the wow effect of this spectacular arrangement. I
t was so pretty, she didn’t want to eat it! A feeling she hadn’t felt in a long time surged through her stomach. Butterflies. She was giddy with excitement over having a Secret Valentine.
Banta’s mouth dropped as she hovered in the doorway to Kendra’s office. “Is that from your boyfriend?” she asked.
Kendra giggled. “No. It’s from my Secret Valentine.”
Banta sighed. “Must be nice to be wanted. How romantic.”
Kendra laughed as she watched Banta walk away. Part of her felt gushy inside at the thought of Carl going through the trouble to send this to her. The other part thought he was damn presumptuous to believe a sugary structure was his ticket to getting some coochie.
She picked up the phone and called Tatum. When she related the story of her present from Carl, Tatum blurted out, “He’s just trying to get you into bed!”
“If he keeps this up, he might.”
“What about ‘Fine Ass’ Mark Sullivan?”
Kendra plopped her butt in the Hermann Miller office chair behind her desk. “Don’t mention him. Remember, he’s my boss.”
“I don’t understand how you can accept gifts from Carl, but you won’t date Mark.”
“I don’t wanna piss a client off. Plus, I think it was a sweet gesture. I’ve never received a chocolate Eiffel Tower.”
“I can tell this guy has really impressed you. You’re not falling for this whole Valentine’s propaganda, are you?”
“Of course, not.” Kendra shifted in her chair. Thank goodness, she had Tatum to keep her grounded. “What time does your plane get in? I’ll pick you up from the airport.”
“Three o’clock,” Tatum replied. “Don’t be late. I don’t want to hang out with TSA any longer than necessary.”
Kendra hung up and dialed the number to Sweet Thang! She put the call on speaker phone so she could multi-task and fully unwrap the arrangement. She was sitting in her chair marveling at the confectionary delight when someone finally picked up the line.
