Her Kind of Man
From the common questions such as “Is whipped cream really an aphrodisiac?” to the crazy ones—“Will you marry me?”—Makayla read them all. She couldn’t erase the giddy smile on her face.
The strength of her article was in the frank, straight-talking interviews with self-proclaimed “vixens.” Not strippers, dancers or escorts, but housewives, bank tellers and flight attendants. All were intelligent, outspoken women who weren’t afraid to break the rules or chart new ground in the bedroom. Makayla had never done any of the things she had written about in the article, but when the right man came along, she would put all of her notes to good use. Three weeks of belly-dancing lessons had helped her feel more in tune with her body and increased her confidence. She couldn’t work her hips like Shakira but she could swivel her behind better than the other fourteen women in her class.
Makayla spent the next hour responding to her messages. The tremendous response to her article was bound to bring further success. She was sure of it. Makayla loved teaching, namely building relationships with her students and tracking their progress. Walking into a classroom and seeing children’s faces light up was the greatest feeling in the world. But as much as she enjoyed her job, she was ready for a change.
She could see it now. First-class flights. Stays in luxurious hotels. Hours spent at historical monuments. Cozy chats with the locals. It was the kind of life she had always dreamed of, and if everything went as planned, it wouldn’t be long before her dream became a reality.
She opened the last message in her inbox and her face radiated with pure joy. The message was from Brenda Van Buren, the senior editor at The Philadelphia Blaze.
Your column is a hit! Let’s set up a time next week to discuss your future.
She sent Brenda a reply and then logged off the computer.
“Time to celebrate!” It had been months since she had had lunch at Alfredo’s. The last time she had been at the Italian bistro was with Reggie, and he had spent so much time complaining about the food she hadn’t enjoyed her meal. Today there would be no distractions. Makayla licked her lips. She could almost taste the Louisiana-style chicken already. Her eyes strayed to the clock. It was still early. She had enough time to shower, dress and make it downtown for the start of Alfredo’s eleven o’clock brunch. Humming softly, she exited the kitchen and headed toward her bedroom.
“Welcome to Alfredo’s. How many in your party?”
Makayla smiled at the hostess. “Just one.”
“Would you prefer to dine in, or on the patio?”
The weather was unusually warm and the sky was clear. What better way to enjoy the day then spending it out in the sun? “Outside.”
“Please follow me.” The blonde led her outside to a table shielded by tall willow trees.
Makayla glanced around the patio. It was lined with chatting people, loners reading the newspaper and canine partners with their respective owners. “This will be fine. Thanks.”
“Your server will be with you shortly.”
From her corner seat, she enjoyed watching the world go by. Three college-aged girls were making eyes at a suit-wearing brother talking on a cell phone, an Asian couple argued in their native tongue and a group of professional women sang “Happy Birthday” to the stick-thin redhead at the head of the table.
Makayla picked up the menu. After a few seconds of perusing the day’s specials, she placed it off to the side and pulled out the book poking out of her handbag. If she wanted to have Sins of a Co-ed finished by the next book club meeting, she had to get going.
“Hi. I’m Cordell. I’ll be your server this afternoon. How are you?”
Makayla looked up at the waiter with a dreamy smile and a friendly face. “Fine, thanks.”
“Are you dining alone?”
“Yes, why?”
He winked. “Just checking.”
They traded looks. He checked her out; she did the same.
“Do you need a few more minutes with the menu or would you like to order?”
“I’ll have the brunch.”
“Is there anything else I can get you?”
Makayla smiled. As he eyed her up, something came to mind that one of the women in her book club group said last month. “Men love assertive women,” the chef-by-day-dominatrix-by-night had shared. “And the more daring, the better.”
“Are you single, Cordell?” Makayla had never been so bold.
“Very. Why don’t you give me your number so we can kick it sometime?”
“I don’t know—” Suddenly, her decision to swear off men seemed silly. Cordell was cute and he wanted to take her out. Just because she’d had a string of bad dates didn’t mean she should take herself off the market. Besides, her column was a hit. What better way to cap off a good day than with a date?
“So, can I get that number?”
“Sure, why not?” She recited her number.
Cordell scribbled it on his notepad and tucked it into his back pocket. “Cool. I’ll call you next week.”
“I’d like that.”
As Makayla watched him go, she wondered why she hadn’t been that confident when she talked to Kenyon yesterday. Stop thinking about the man, for God’s sake, she ordered herself. But blocking thoughts of Kenyon was impossible. He was outspoken, had the face of an Adonis, the body of a sculpture and although she didn’t have telepathic powers, she had a feeling he was a first-rate lover. If he didn’t have so much personal baggage, Makayla might have gone out with him.
Cordell returned to the table with her drink, then escorted her inside. While she skimmed the salad bar, he told her more about himself. He worked two full-time jobs, took night classes at the local community college and hoped to be a concert promoter one day. Despite his tight schedule, he offered to take her out for dinner next week. Makayla was weighing the pros and cons of dating someone eight years her junior when she spied Reggie standing at the bar. He was talking to a taller, lighter, more handsome version of himself. Funny, he had never mentioned having a brother.
If Reggie saw her, he’d stick to her like glue and Makayla couldn’t stomach any more of his worn-out lines. Water had spewed out of her mouth when Reggie had labeled himself “the last good man around” and squeezed her thigh. Laughing at the memory, she said goodbye to Cordell and hurried back out to the patio. If Reggie Ford was the best the world had to offer, then Makayla would die a lonely spinster.
Chapter 4
The breeze whipped Makayla’s face, sending shivers down her spine. Muffling her neck in the collar of her coat, she rocked aggressively from side to side. Her fingers felt like icicles and her hair thrashed around her face. Rubbing her hands together, she imagined her hands wrapped around a piping-hot mug of herbal tea. Any minute now, the bell would ring, signaling the end of recess, and Makayla would return to the warmth of her classroom.
Makayla glanced around the field at the children. Multicolored leaves whirled around them on the wind, but the kids played on, ignoring the stiff wind.
“Boys and girls, be careful,” she warned, watching two girls slip and slide on a pile of wet leaves.
Makayla felt a tug on her coat and looked down.
“Teacher, Terrance took my money.”
She stared down at the boy and smiled. He was the cutest little thing, his thin face bitten by the frigid wind.
“Then he told me to—to—” Embarrassed, the boy lowered his eyes. “He said a bad word to me, Teacher.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded furiously.
Makayla’s eyes scanned the playground. If she had any doubts about Terrance’s innocence, they vanished when he scurried up the slide and dove behind one of the plastic pillars.
She stormed across the field to the troublesome first-grader. “Terrance, come down here now!”
“No! I don’t have to listen to you!” Terrance emerged from behind the slide, a defiant expression on his face.
Makayla could not allow the disrespect. She climbed the steps. “You’re coming with me to the office.”
Terrance stepped back. “No, I’m not!”
“Oh, yes, you are.”
“You always pick on me!” he whined, stomping his foot. “I didn’t do any—”
Makayla reached out and grabbed his arm. To her shock, Terrance threw himself against her, freed himself and took off running. He leaped off the play structure and landed in the sandbox with a thump. A second later, an earsplitting scream shattered the morning silence.
“Don’t tell me I’m overreacting! That bitch hurt my baby and she’s going to pay!”
Kenyon tried calming down his sister-in-law, but Veronika only became more irate. Her recent tirade brought a nurse into the room who told them, “Excuse me, but it is far too loud in here.” She went over to the wall-mounted TV and turned it down, too.
“Hey! What are you doing? I was watching that!” Terrance snatched the remote off the table and punched up the volume.
Kenyon looked contrite. “I apologize.” Ever since they’d taken Terrance to The Children’s Hospital, he’d been apologizing for Veronika’s behavior, and his nephew’s. “We’ll keep it down from now on.” He looked at his nephew sternly. “Terrance, apologize. That is no way to talk to the nurse.”
His eyes remained fixed on the screen.
“Did you hear me?”
Nothing.
Kenyon put a hand on his shoulder. “Apologize. Now.”
“Stop yelling at him!” Sitting on the edge of the bed, Veronika cradled Terrance’s head to her chest and rocked him back and forth. “Can’t you see that he’s been traumatized? His teacher attacked him, for goodness’ sake! How do you expect him to behave?”
Unmoved by Veronika’s performance, Kenyon took the remote control out of his nephew’s grasp and switched off the TV. “Terrance, if you don’t apologize to the nurse, I won’t take you and your friends to the arcade next weekend.”
Terrance fiddled with his ID bracelet. “Okay, I’m sorry.”
“That’s better.”
“Any word on the X-rays?” Veronika asked the nurse, cradling her son in her arms. “I don’t need X-rays to know my baby broke his arm, but my lawyer said it wouldn’t hurt to have some hard evidence.”
“Doctor Harvick should be here any minute with the results.”
“Thanks.” Kenyon smiled at the nurse as she turned to leave. “And sorry we’ve been such a pain.”
Veronika smoothed a hand over Terrance’s cheek. “Mommy doesn’t know what she’d do if anything ever happened to you. You’re all I have.” Hugging him to her chest, she closed her eyes. “I love you, baby. More than anything in this world. Don’t you ever forget that.”
It was moments like this Kenyon truly admired his sister-in-law. It had to be tough being a single parent but he knew no one was more important to Veronika than Terrance.
Checking the time, Veronika released her son and pulled out her cell phone from her jean pocket. “I’m going to go call my lawyer again.”
Sighing, Kenyon drew a deep breath. “Don’t you think you’re blowing things out of proportion? Terrance is fine. He doesn’t even have a scratch—”
“You’re not a doctor,” she pointed out, cutting him off. “He may have internal injuries for all you know. Why aren’t you more upset? That woman could have killed him!”
“We don’t know what happened.”
“Terrance said Ms. Stevens pushed him and I believe my son.”
“But his classmates said he jumped.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you saying my child is lying?”
“I care about him, too, Veronika.”
“You have a funny way of showing it. You weren’t at his hockey game last week, now were you?”
Kenyon swallowed a retort. Every time something went wrong, Veronika reached back into the past and brought up his mistakes. His sister-in-law was hard to please, rarely satisfied and always angry. If she had not gotten pregnant, his brother probably never would have married her.
“I already apologized for that. It was a scheduling conflict that couldn’t be changed. I had to work.” Terrance was listening in and he hated arguing in front of him. If Kenyon wanted to, he could put Veronika in her place. Felix’s insurance money had only gone so far. Once the funeral was paid for and a college tuition fund established for Terrance, there wasn’t much left. Veronika didn’t make much as a hairdresser and it would be months before her salon turned a profit. Kenyon had taken care of all of her financial responsibilities since Felix died. Mortgage, utilities and insurance were paid in full, on time, every month. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to make life as comfortable as possible for them. Because of his generosity, Veronika could afford to live in one of the best neighborhoods in Philadelphia.
Kenyon rubbed a hand over his head. “Let’s hold off on hiring a lawyer until we know what happened. Once we know the truth we can—”
Veronika dismissed his suggestion with a flip of her hand. “Terrance wouldn’t lie to me. There’s nothing to discuss. Ms. Stevens hurt him. Case closed. I’m going to sue the skirt off her and there’s nothing you can say to stop me.” She brushed a strand of dark blond hair out of her eyes. “No one messes with my baby and gets away with it!”
Kenyon had heard enough of his sister-in-law’s ranting for one day. He was just as upset as she was about what happened but he wasn’t going to lose his head. Kenyon knew little about Ms. Stevens, but she didn’t strike him as the kind of person who would intentionally harm a child. She was warm and nurturing and seemed to have a soft touch for kids. Then again, he’d learned a long time ago that looks could be deceiving. Kenyon turned to Terrance. “I’m going to the cafeteria. Do you want anything, li’l man?”
Absorbed in cartoons, Terrance shook his head.
“Veronika?”
“No, thanks.”
Kenyon opened the door and strode down the hall to the elevators. As she reached out to press the down button, the elevator doors slid open and Ms. Stevens stepped off.
“Oh,” she said, stopping abruptly. “Hi.”
Kenyon took a deep breath. Her feminine fragrance sweetened the antiseptic smell in the corridor. “Hello, Ms. Stevens.”
Makayla could tell by his subdued greeting that he wasn’t happy to see her. Still, she could see the deep brown flecks in his eyes more clearly under the fluorescent lights, as well as his flawless skin. The man was truly a sight to behold. “I came to see Terrance. How is he?”
“We’re waiting on the X-rays.”
“Can I see him?” She lifted the bag she was holding in her hand. “I bought him something to help pass the time. Nothing big, just some puzzles, a few coloring books and his homework.”
Kenyon stole a look down the hall. Veronika was standing outside Terrance’s room, talking on her cell phone. “Now’s not a good time.”
“When should I come back?”
“I’ll tell Terrance you stopped by.”
Makayla held out the bag. “Can you see to it that he gets this?”
“Sure.”
“Do you have a few minutes? I was hoping we could talk about—”
“You bitch!”
Makayla froze. Storming down the hall, screaming obscenities marched Veronika Blake. Narrowly missing an elderly man in a wheelchair, she flung her hands and yelled, “How dare you show your face here after what you did!”
Eyes wide, Makayla looked helplessly at Kenyon. She shrank back like a panic-stricken child and frantically jabbed the elevator button. “I’ll leave.”
Kenyon felt for Veronika, he really did, but now was not the time for her to act out a scene from A Thin Line Between Love and Hate. He stepped forward, blocking her path. “We’ll discuss this later.”
“Like hell we will. I’m going to kick her ass!”
Kenyon gripped her shoulders. “No, you’re not. You’re going to go back to Terrance. He needs you, remember?”
The mention of her son’s name momentarily calmed her. Her thin lips curved into an ugly sneer. She wagged a finger at Makayla. “If you ever put your hands on my son again, you’ll be sorry. Trust me. You haven’t heard the last of me, Ms. Stevens. This is only the beginning.” Straightening her sweater, she shot Makayla an evil look and tramped off.
When Kenyon turned around, he was shocked to see Ms. Stevens shaking. Her eyes were heavy with tears and her bottom lip was quivering. As curious as he was to find out what had happened that afternoon on the playground, he didn’t have the heart to question her. Overtaken by compassion, he put a hand on her back, steered her into the open elevator and said, “Let’s go somewhere to talk.”
The main-floor cafeteria was bright, modern and clean. There were dozens of round tables and several gigantic windows, which overlooked an open field. Hospital personnel occupied many of the tables.
Makayla plopped down on one of the cold plastic chairs and buried her face in her hands. This had to be the worst day of her life.
After recess, Principal Gibson had summoned her to his office. He’d stared at her for several minutes before he finally asked, “What happened outside at recess, Ms. Stevens?”
Since Makayla had nothing to hide, she told the truth. “I grabbed Terrance’s arm, but he broke free and jumped off the play structure. Everything happened so fast I—”
“You do know the school’s discipline policies, don’t you, Ms. Stevens?”
“Yes, but—”
“School personnel are not supposed to touch children in an aggressive manner.”
“I am well aware of that, Principal Gibson, but I had no other choice. Terrance wasn’t responding to my orders and—”
“Terrance said you pushed him.”
“He said what!”
“Is that true, Ms. Stevens? Did you hurt that child?”
“No, of course not. I would never—”
Principal Gibson leaned forward in his chair, his gaze strong and intense. “Have you ever heard of teacher burnout, Ms. Stevens? In my day, things like this happened all the time. Stressed teachers would rough up students and—”
Makayla tuned out. Images of being frisked and handcuffed in front of her students attacked her fragile mind. In one of her more lucid moments, she heard Principal Gibson ask if she was okay. She must have nodded, because he advised her to seek legal counsel and informed her the superintendent would be in touch.
Later that night, Desiree showed up with a tall, lean-faced man who smelled like new money. Impeccably dressed in a charcoal gray suit, shiny cufflinks and a designer watch, he strolled into Makayla’s living room as if he had the deed to the house.
Desiree knew a host of white-collar men, everyone from plastic surgeons to city officials to restaurateurs, so Makayla didn’t blink when she was introduced to Chancellor Hughes, attorney-at-law. Somewhere between serving coffee and telling her side of the story, Makayla remembered that she was innocent. She wasn’t burned out, or stressed, or lashing out like Principal Gibson had implied. She was wrong for grabbing Terrance’s arm but she wasn’t responsible for his fall. Makayla listened politely to Mr. Hughes, but when he recommended she take a polygraph test to clear her name, she kindly showed him the door.
“Give it some thought,” he told her, handing over a crisp white business card. “Don’t hesitate to call if you need me.”
After a quick stop at the school, Makayla drove straight to The Children’s Hospital. Terrance could lie to the devil himself and make it interesting, but she had a hard time believing he could look at her, with his mother and uncle listening in, and say she pushed him off the jungle gym. On the drive over, Makayla had geared up for the inevitable confrontation with Mrs. Blake, but when the irate mother stormed toward her, with guns drawn, she lost her nerve.
Using a tissue to wipe her face, she contemplated whether to appeal to Kenyon. Her inner voice told her she could confide in him, but Makayla had faced enough hostility for one day and she couldn’t handle him blowing up at her, too.
Kenyon returned to the table, handed her a cup of coffee and sat down. Sitting across from her, he couldn’t help noticing how much prettier Kay looked with her hair down. She had thick, lustrous hair that his hands were anxious to touch. To keep from acting on his impulse, he sipped his coffee. “Are you okay?” he asked, keying in on her nervousness.
Her words came out in a painful whisper. “I didn’t push Terrance off the play structure. He jumped.”
Kenyon eyed her over the rim of his cup.
“I would never do anything to hurt one of my students. Never.”
Scratching the stubble on his jaw, he slowly shook his head. He knew this was coming, but he was still shocked by her admission. His gut feeling was that Kay was telling the truth. Kenyon loved his nephew, but unlike Veronika, he saw the boy’s devious side. Ms. Stevens wasn’t the first person to complain about Terrance’s defiant streak. Everyone from babysitters to other parents to relatives had labeled him a problem child and predicted a life of trouble if Veronika didn’t lay down the law now. “I’ll talk to Veronika.”
“You will?”
“I had a feeling Terrance was lying.”
“You did?”
Kenyon ate a curly fry. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry about all of this. It’s my fault. I should have waited until all the kids went inside before I confronted him.”
“I don’t blame you. I should be the one apologizing. Terrance hasn’t been the same since my brother died, but there’s no excuse for what he did.”
“Death is hard for kids to cope with. I was a teenager when my mom passed and it almost destroyed me. I was angry at the world but instead of lashing out at others, which I suspect Terrance is doing, I ate. I used food to fill the emptiness I was feeling inside.”
“But at least you weren’t hurting anybody.”
“I was hurting myself.” She toyed with her purse straps. “When I graduated from high school, I was almost two hundred pounds!”
“No way.” Kenyon took in her appearance. He liked her jeans-and-blazer look. It was simple, pretty, casual. Kay had the face of an angel, a long, slender neck and eye-catching curves. It was hard to believe she had once been a candidate for an extreme makeover.
“Believe it. I have the pictures to prove it.”
“I’d like to see them sometime.”
Makayla looked away. She didn’t know what had possessed her to tell Kenyon about her past. If she wasn’t careful, she would jog his memory and he’d remember who she was. It was unlikely, but stranger things had happened. “I should get going.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
“No, you’re not finished eating.”
She was right. He hadn’t even tasted his cheeseburger yet. “Thanks for coming by. I’m sure Terrance will love the gift.”
“It’s the least I can do.” Makayla could talk to Kenyon for hours. He was a good listener, understanding, and he didn’t judge her. She didn’t want to leave, but fear of seeing Veronika again pushed her to her feet. Dangling her keys between her fingers, she lifted her head and met his smile. “I guess that’s it then.”
“I guess so.”
Kenyon concentrated on his burger. There couldn’t be a worse time to put the moves on her. His nephew had blackened her name and there was a good chance she could lose her job. “I’ll be in touch,” he called, as she made her way through the cafeteria. Her jeans hugged the curves of her butt and her leather boots added several inches to her height. Kay was sexy in a natural, unprofessed way. His gaze followed her through the cafeteria doors and into the parking lot. Soon, she disappeared among the rows of emergency vehicles and police cruisers.
Kenyon finished his burger. Getting the truth out of Terrance wouldn’t be easy. He had inherited his mother’s stubbornness and even at the best of times, he couldn’t be reasoned with. Glancing at his watch, he wondered if it was too late to call and set up a meeting with Principal Gibson. The sooner this situation was cleared up, the better. Standing, he collected his garbage and then dumped it into the trash bin.
As he got on the elevator, he couldn’t help wondering who was waiting for Kay at home. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t in a serious relationship. There was only one way to find out for sure. After he got the truth out of Terrance, they would pay Kay a visit at home. A bouquet of flowers and a small gift were sure to soothe her feelings. And once everything was sorted out, he would make his move.