Pleasure in His Kiss

by Pamela Yaye

  Karma reached into her purse and took out the red, heart-shaped envelope. “Here, sweetie, this is for you. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

  Reagan squealed. Plucking the card out of Karma’s hand, she danced to the beat of the music, waved her arms wildly in the air. “Thanks, Ms. Karma! You’re the best.”

  “It’s my pleasure. You’ve been a model student and an exceptional employee, so buy yourself something special.” Karma wore a sad smile. “I’m going to miss you when you go off to school in the fall, but you’re destined for great things so knock ’em dead!”

  The light in her eyes dimmed and sadness flickered across her face. “I changed my mind. I’m going to live at home, instead of on campus, and I won’t be going to beauty school.”

  “Why not? You were excited about leaving town, and you cried tears of joy when you received your acceptance letter to the Aveda Institute. What happened to change your mind?”

  “I know, but if I go to beauty school I’d have to live in the city, and Uncle Morrison is dead set against me living in a dorm or getting my own apartment.”

  “And, how do you feel about that?” Karma asked.

  “At first I was upset, but my uncles made me realize how much Uncle Morrison has sacrificed for me, and I don’t want to upset him. I want to make him proud, and I will.”

  Saddened by the teen’s confession, Karma took her hand and squeezed it. It bothered her that Reagan was giving up her dreams to please her family, and Karma would never forgive herself if she didn’t say something to Morrison. She searched the backyard for him, but couldn’t find him anywhere, suspected he was inside the kitchen instructing the waitstaff. It had been seven days since they’d argued in front of her salon—a long, miserable week—and although she’d convinced herself that their breakup was for the best, Karma wanted to see him again, longed to kiss him, and touch him and hold him in her arms—

  “Thanks again for coming, Ms. Karma. It means a lot to me...”

  Blinking, Karma surfaced from her thoughts, pushed all images of Morrison from her mind. Forced herself to concentrate on what Reagan was saying instead of searching the grounds for Morrison. Where was he? Was he inside with one of the pretty single moms? Flirting, talking and laughing in an intimate corner, far away from the crowd?

  “I know you’re probably sick of hearing me say this, but I think you and Uncle Morrison make a great couple,” Reagan said, gripping Karma’s shoulders. “I know he can be stubborn sometimes, but don’t give up on him. He’s a good guy.”

  All Karma could do was nod her head. She didn’t have the heart to tell Reagan that she wasn’t Morrison’s girlfriend anymore, still hadn’t come to terms with the news herself, but made a mental note to speak to Reagan in private when she arrived at the salon on Friday for her shift.

  “I love this song,” Reagan gushed, snapping her fingers. Looking pretty and youthful in a turquoise dress, her short, auburn curls bouncing around her face as she swayed to the music. “This is my jam. Let’s dance, Ms. Karma.”

  “You go ahead. I’ll see you later.” Karma nudged Reagan toward her friends, who were partying under the oversize tent. “Have fun. It’s your graduation party, so cut loose.”

  “I will. You can bet on it!” Giggling, the teen waved as she rushed off.

  Thirsty, Karma walked across the lawn toward the dessert table. Mrs. Drake wore a polite smile, Mr. Drake raised his champagne flute in her direction and Duane waved. She wanted to breeze past them, was worried if she stopped to talk they’d question her incessantly about Feisal, but before Karma could decide what to do either way, Mrs. Drake slid in front of her, blocking her path. Her temperature soared, but she wore a bright smile.

  “Karma, dear, how lovely to see you again.” Mrs. Drake kissed her on both cheeks. Tall and slender, with a regal air, she had a warm and friendly demeanor. “I’m going to Marseille at the end of the month to do some shopping, and I want you and Erikah to join me, so clear your schedule, pack light and brush up on your French.”

  What French? I don’t know any! Karma didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t get a word out. Stared at Mrs. Drake with wide eyes. Why didn’t Morrison tell his parents the truth? What was he waiting for? She’d expected things to be awkward between them when she’d arrived at the graduation ceremony that afternoon, but thankfully it wasn’t. Morrison was his usual charming, charismatic self, and sitting beside him in the auditorium, whispering and laughing, reminded Karma of all the good times they’d had. If not for Feisal, they’d still be dating, but now that her secret was out she had no choice but to distance herself from the man she loved—

  “I want my sons and their wives to be one, big happy family so the more time we spend together the better.” Mrs. Drake shielded her mouth with one hand and clutched her pearl necklace with the other. “I still can’t believe what that girl did to my baby. I hope for Toya’s sake I never cross paths with her again, because if I do I’ll beat her with my Gucci handbag!”

  A giggle tickled Karma’s throat, but she didn’t laugh. Knew if she did she wouldn’t be able to stop. That morning, Erikah had spilled the tea about Roderick and Toya’s breakup and Karma still couldn’t believe what she’d heard. Though she hadn’t spent much time with the couple, they’d seemed to really love each other, and every time she saw Roderick, he praised his fiancée. Wondering how the entertainment attorney was holding up, Karma searched for him among the well-dressed guests, but didn’t find him.

  “What are you two over here whispering about?” Joining them, holding her youngest child in her arms, Erikah blew her bangs out of her eyes. The mother of four was a respected pediatrician with a thriving medical practice, and one of the funniest people Karma had ever met. They’d instantly hit it off and enjoyed spending time together. “Tell me.”

  “That hazel-eyed hussy!” Mrs. Drake said, speaking through clenched teeth. “I’m so angry about what she did to Roderick, I could spit.”

  Erikah gasped, but Karma could tell by the amused expression on her round, plump face that she was trying hard not to laugh at her mother-in-law. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Morrison and Reagan posing for a picture under the graduation banner and smiled to herself. They looked cute together, like a doting father with his beloved daughter, and the image warmed her heart. Made her reflect on her relationship with her dad. She hadn’t seen or heard from Feisal since he’d showed up unannounced at her shop and, for some strange reason, Karma wondered how he was doing.

  Caught up in her thoughts, Karma didn’t notice Morrison was standing in front of her until he slid an arm around her waist and whispered in her ear, “Looking for me?”

  Electricity flooded her body, and the baby-fine hairs on the back of her neck shot up.

  “Morrison, hey, what’s up? How’s it going?” Her voice sounded squeaky, foreign to her ears, but she wore a confident smile, didn’t want Morrison to think she was weak for him, even though her palms were sweaty, and her pulse was racing out of control. Clasping her hands, Morrison led her away from his family to a quiet corner of the backyard.

  “You look incredible,” he praised, an appreciative smile on his lips. “I love your dress.”

  “Of course you do. You bought it for me when we went shopping at Chic Boutique.”

  Morrison snapped his fingers. “That’s right. I did. Man, I have great taste in clothes!”

  “Someone’s ego is out of control,” she quipped with a laugh.

  “And it should be. I’m dating the most captivating woman in the Hamptons.”

  Her mouth fell open. You are?

  “I’m going to start calling you Extra, because it’s the perfect nickname for you.”

  “Extra?” Karma repeated. “Why?”

  “Because you’re extraordinarily smart, extraordinarily talented and extraordinarily beautiful. Best of all, you’re mine, and I plan to cherish you
as long as we both shall live.”

  Water filled her eyes, but Karma smiled through her tears. She was so moved by his words that she leaned over and kissed his lips. His mouth was warm, flavored with wine, the best thing she had ever tasted. “Morrison, thank you,” she said, slowly caressing his face. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

  “Baby, I need to have you. Now. I’ve missed you so much.”

  Karma glanced around the backyard. Guests were too busy eating and dancing to pay them any mind, but she feared what would happen if someone came looking for them, and caught them in the act—Toya wouldn’t be the only person on Mrs. Drake’s hit list. Unwilling to take the risk, Karma shook her head. “Morrison, we can’t—”

  “Can’t isn’t in my vocabulary, and it shouldn’t be in yours either.”

  Her body yearned to make love to him, to erase the pain of their argument, but Karma resisted the needs of her flesh. “Not now, Morrison, later. After the party ends.”

  “Fine, you win, but I need your help with Reagan’s gift, so follow me inside.”

  “You bought her a hoverboard?”

  “So she can break her neck and every other bone in her body? Heck no!” Morrison chuckled, laughed as if her question was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “I bought her the six-piece Louis Vuitton luggage set, and I know she’s going to love it.”

  “That’s cool too.”

  “Damn right it is, and expensive too. It cost more than her Mini Cooper!”

  “Speaking of Reagan, she told me you’re dead set against her going to beauty school part-time and living on campus,” she said, recalling the conversation she’d had earlier with the teen. “Morrison, I know you’re worried something bad will happen to her, but you can’t protect Reagan forever. You have to let her fall, so she can get back up and learn from her mistakes. Trust that you raised her right, and she’ll make good choices, whether or not you’re around.”

  “You sound like Roderick and Duane. They think I’m controlling, but I’m not.”

  “You most certainly are!” Karma quipped, fervently nodding her head to emphasize her point. “You make helicopter moms look sane.”

  Morrison scoffed. “You’re exaggerating. I’m not that bad, am I?”

  Wearing a sly smile, she reached out and patted his cheek. “No, baby, you’re worse.”

  He chuckled, laughed out loud, but Karma could tell by the expression on his face that she’d given him something to think about.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Morrison said with a shrug, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’ve been doing some soul searching the past few days, and realized I need to advise less, listen more and let Reagan decide what’s best for her.”

  To make him laugh, Karma snapped her fingers and swiveled her neck. “Of course I’m right. I’m always right. And don’t you forget it.”

  Taking her in his arms, he held her close to his chest. “Thanks for supporting Reagan, and for encouraging her to follow her dreams.”

  Karma beamed when he caressed her back and kissed her forehead. God, I love when he does that. A quintessential gentleman with a big heart, he opened doors for her, pulled out chairs, spoiled and pampered her whenever they were together, and treated her with such warmth and tenderness Karma knew no one else could ever take his place in her heart. Karma loved the idea of settling down with Morrison, pictured their wedding day over and over again in her mind, but tempered her excitement. Even if they got back together, they still had several challenges to overcome. What if Feisal sold his story to the local newspaper to embarrass her? What would Mr. and Mrs. Drake think when they discovered her father was an ex-con? Would they threaten to disown Morrison if he continued dating her?

  Morrison led her across the backyard, and through the wide open French doors. Inside, family members relaxed in the living room, servers moved around the kitchen, filling champagne flutes and appetizer trays, and Morrison’s father and uncles played dominoes at the dining room table, arguing and shouting about every point. Karma followed Morrison through the main floor, past the spiral staircase in the foyer and into his corner office.

  Spotting the luggage set in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, the handles adorned with bows and ribbons, Karma said, “They’re gorgeous. Good job, Morrison. And you’re right. Reagan’s going to love it, especially the vintage trunk. It looks chic and expensive.”

  “Hello, Karma. It’s great to see you again.”

  Spinning around on her heels, she noticed Feisal standing in the opposite corner of the room, and dropped Morrison’s hand. “Wh-wh-what’s going on?” she stammered. “What is he doing here?”

  “I invited him. He met Duane at the sports complex a couple days ago when we played tennis, but I want to introduce him to the rest of my family.”

  “No! Why? He doesn’t deserve your kindness.”

  “I disagree. Feisal’s humble, he’s got a great sense of humor and he tells the best stories. I especially like the ones about his wisecracking daughter who used to be obsessed with Ja Rule, velour tracksuits and her Nokia flip phone.” Morrison gripped Karma’s arms, stared down at her with a sympathetic expression on his face. “Baby, hear him out.”

  “If you knew what he did you wouldn’t be pressuring me to speak to him.”

  “Karma, he knows,” Feisal said in a strong voice, stepping out of the shadows. “We had coffee together last week and I told Morrison about my past run-ins with the law and the circumstances surrounding your mother’s death. He listened and didn’t judge me, and I’m grateful.”

  Your mother’s death...death...death... Karma pressed her eyes shut, willed the tears not to fall. His words echoed through her brain, piercing her heart, and she dropped her gaze to the plush carpet. Ice spread through her veins, chilling her to the bone, and the weight of Karma’s grief was so heavy she couldn’t lift her head.

  “Do you know what kills me inside? What I regret more than anything? That I never had the opportunity to apologize to Emmanuelle for the horrible things I said to her that fateful night...” His voice cracked, and seconds passed before he spoke. “I should have talked to her privately, instead of going off on her. If I had, my sister might still be alive today.”

  “And if I had been the husband and father my wife needed me to be, she’d be here with us celebrating.” Clearing his throat, Feisal tugged at the collar of his black, V-neck shirt. “Karma, there hasn’t been a day in my life that I haven’t thought about Carmelita, or what I would have done differently. I am sorry for not being the father I should have been, but I’m here now, and if you can find it in your heart to forgive me I’d be most grateful.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” she blurted out, hugging her arms to her chest to stop her body from shaking. “I’ve been angry at you for so long I don’t know if I can ever get past it.”

  “I understand. It’s going to take time. I don’t expect things to change overnight.” Feisal stepped forward. “I’ll have to work hard to gain your trust, and I will.”

  He sounded wounded, broken up inside, and the pain in his voice touched her soul.

  “I love you, honey. You have to believe me.”

  Karma didn’t realize she was crying until Feisal reached out and wiped her cheeks with his fingertips. She saw the anguish in his eyes, the sadness, and realized he was still grieving too. A quiet calm descended over her, and Karma knew she was doing the right thing—what her mom would want her to do—and embraced her father for the first time in years.

  Chapter 18

  Karma sat at her office desk, proofreading the business plan she was to submit to the loan officer at Bridgehampton National Bank first thing tomorrow morning, but her thoughts were a million miles away. Between work, going on dates with Morrison and helping Reagan decorate her campus dorm room, she hadn’t had much time to spend on the proposal, but Erikah sa
id it was well written, and Karma was confident she’d secure a loan for her expansion project.

  Drumming her fingers on her desk, Karma considered her schedule. July had been an insanely busy month, filled with dozens of consultations, out-of-town jobs, social events and dates with Morrison. They’d enjoyed dining five-star restaurants, Broadway musicals, stargazing at their favorite park and dancing at Manhattan nightclubs. Every Sunday, they’d visited her grandparents in Brooklyn, and it was the highlight of Karma’s week. They’d eat a large, home-cooked meal, listen to Motown records on her grandfather’s vintage turntable and play bid whist for hours at the dining room table.

  Her gaze strayed from the computer monitor to the picture frame beside the pink, reading lamp. The photograph had been taken at the Hamptons Women’s Association banquet, and every time Karma looked at the image her heart smiled. When Morrison bragged to his family that she’d been nominated for the Businesswoman of the Year award, his parents and siblings had insisted on attending the event. Though she didn’t win the award, she’d had fun at the banquet with the Drake family, her staff and her father. In the dimly lit ballroom, they talked, toasted and danced the night away. There was no better feeling than being in Morrison’s arms, and just when Karma thought she couldn’t love him anymore, he’d surprised her with two tickets to see the musical Hamilton to celebrate their four-month anniversary.

  Touching the glass with her fingers, Karma marveled at how much her life had changed since meeting Morrison. Not only had his parents, siblings and nephews welcomed her into their family with open arms, they’d accepted her father, as well. Still struggling from the effects of his hip replacement surgery, and needing help around the estate, Nathaniel had hired Feisal to be his assistant, and gave him a room in the guesthouse. Feisal was flourishing in his new role, easily making friends around town and mentoring troubled youth in his old neighborhood on his days off, and Karma was proud of her dad for turning his life around. Thanks to Erikah, she’d found a family counselor, and twice a week, Karma and Feisal met with the affable, soft-spoken therapist. It could take months, even years, before they had a healthy father-daughter relationship, but Karma was glad she’d listened to Erikah about seeking professional help, and was learning a lot about her father during the hour-long sessions.