Let's Get It On (12 page)

“I think so,” James replied sarcastically. “At least we were this morning.”

Kenya pouted, then quickly smiled at him. “I have to ask,” she said. “A lot of professional athletes lend their names and likenesses to companies that they have no ownership in. I don't want anything we take to the city to be questioned unduly.”

Watching Kenya in her element made Maurice think that she was even sexier. He'd always known that she was smart, but as she explained the law and the potential negotiations that they would need to enter in with the city, he saw that she was brilliant. Still, the dominating thought in his mind was pushing all of those papers off her desk and making love to her. They were on the fifteenth floor. No one would see them, despite the fact that she had huge bare windows in her office.

“Mo, are you listening?” James asked.

“Yeah, I'm listening,” Maurice lied. “How long before we take a new offer to the city?”

Kenya smirked at him. “Thought you were listening. I said I'll call the city attorney and set up a meeting next week.”

“You're handling it, right?” Maurice asked.

Reluctantly, she agreed. “I'll give you a call, James, when the meeting is set.”

James rose to his feet and thumped Maurice on the shoulder. “Thank you, Kenya.” He handed her a business card. “I look forward to it.”

Slowly, Maurice stood up. “Kenya, it was a pleasure. Why don't you let me buy you dinner tonight as a welcome to the city type of thing?”

“I don't know. I'm going to be working pretty late,” replied Kenya. She wasn't going to be alone with this man, not feeling the way she was feeling. They'd never eat, because she would be his main course. “A rain check, maybe.”

“I'm going to take you up on that, definitely,” said Maurice. With that, he and James headed out the door.

Seconds later, Talisha walked into the office and faced Kenya, with a huge smile on her face. “Was that Mo Goings?”

Kenya shrugged her shoulders. “Yes.”

“Oh my God! Is he a client?”

“I don't have to remind you that our client list is confidential,” Kenya said sternly.

Talisha nodded and headed out the door, muttering that Maurice was much finer in person than he was on those billboards.

You don't know the half of it,
Kenya thought as she dropped her head on her desk.

When James and Maurice made it outside to the parking lot, James lit into his brother. “I know you're trying to woo Kenya, trying to get her back in your life, bed, or whatever. But this is my business, our business, and that was not cool in there.”

“What?” Maurice snapped. “Look, I didn't do anything wrong.”

“I'm not blind. I know something was going on before I got there. And what's up with telling me that the meeting was at three thirty?” James said. “I've been heading up this company for years, and now, all of a sudden, you take an interest in it, because Kenya's in town and working with our company. You need to stop it.”

“James, I swear to God, you act like a jealous boyfriend when it comes to her. Is there something I should know about you and Kenya?” Maurice started for his car.

James glared at his brother's back. “You know what? I don't have time for you and your BS, Mo. You think that you can have anything you want, and you've been like that since you were a child. The first moment that someone put a football in your hand, you just thought you were all of that. That's why you played with Kenya's emotions and ended up with that whore, and now you think that because you got embarrassed, you can turn around and suck Kenya into the Mo Show again. When we were on vacation and you were doing your thing, that was one thing, but this is real life and business. We've got too much riding on this deal with the city for you to let your hormones get in the way.”

Maurice turned around and looked at James. “All right? You feel better now? Have you been holding that in since we were kids? Listen, I've never acted the way you described. I've never been that cat who thought playing football made me better than other people. You and everybody around me thought that. Everybody except Kenya. You want to tell me that I'm ruining our business? It's really my business, which I allow you to run. I know how important it is for us to build these houses, and I wouldn't do anything to hurt this project, but I'm not going to let you make me feel guilty for wanting Kenya.”

“Even though you had her and threw her away? What happens, now that she's our lawyer, when you mess up again?” James snapped.

“Nothing. Because I'm not going to mess up, and that woman is going to be mine. You just stay out of my way,” Maurice snapped, then got into his car and sped off.

 

 

Kenya sat at her desk, allegedly going over a few case files. But her mind was on Maurice and what had nearly happened on her desk.
What the hell was I thinking?
she thought.
I should've never taken Maurice and James on as clients. Anyone could negotiate their contracts with the city.
She flung her reading glasses off and dropped her head on her desk.

When her cell phone rang, she nearly jumped out of her skin. “Hello?” she said.

“Kenya, it's Imani. How's everything going?” her friend asked.

“I wish I could say great,” Kenya said and sighed. “But Maurice was in my office today.”

Imani groaned. “Why are you taking up with that jerk again?”

“I didn't say that I was,” she said, though the words were hollow. “He's famous here, I'm a contract attorney, and we're going to cross paths.”

“How was your vacation?” Imani asked. “I haven't heard from you since you up and left Georgia.”

“It was a whirlwind,” Kenya said breathlessly. “Maurice was there, too.”

“You two are going to get back together, aren't you? You're letting him off the hook, and you don't even know what he did to Lauryn to make her leave him at the altar. Kenya, don't let him hurt you again.”

Rising to her feet, Kenya headed for the window and looked out at the twinkling lights of the city. “Maybe he didn't do anything to Lauryn. What if he's changed?”

“Do you believe that he can change?” she asked. “You ran away from him because you found him in bed with Lauryn. Now this man is an NFL star, and women will be throwing themselves at him. What are you going to do when that happens? Run away again? Are you going to nurse a broken heart for the rest of your life?”

“I don't know,” Kenya said. “You think I'm crazy, don't you?”

Imani sighed. “It really doesn't matter what I think. It's your life. Just be careful. I'd hate to see you let Maurice ruin your life again.”

Kenya fingered her hair. “Did he ruin my life? I mean, look at me. I'm successful, financially stable, and . . .”

“Does he know?” Imani asked ominously.

“Don't go there,” Kenya said, pushing the memory to the back of her psyche. “It's been so long ago. There's no need to tell him.”

“Why not? He has a right to know, and if you're thinking of starting a future with this man, you're going to have to clear up everything in your past,” Imani said wisely.

“And that would accomplish what?”

“Maurice can't be so vain as to think that the only reason you left school was because of him and Lauryn,” Imani said.

“It really doesn't matter why I left,” Kenya said. “All that matters is that . . . nothing. Imani, I don't want to think about that stuff now.”

“How can you not? How can you look at him and not think about what could have been? You two would have a family now if you hadn't—”

“I have to go,” Kenya said, abruptly snapping her phone shut.

Walking over to her desk, she fell into her seat and thought back to her first week back in Atlanta nine years ago.

 

 

Kenya had moved into her dorm room at Clark Atlanta University. Luckily, she didn't have a roommate, thanks to her mother's string pulling. Sitting on the twin bed, she'd become violently ill. She'd vomited all over the floor before dashing to the bathroom, where she'd continued to vomit. Then she'd felt blood between her legs. The next thing she'd remembered was waking up in the back of an ambulance.

“Ma'am,” the technician had said, “you're on your way to Grady Hospital. You're having a miscarriage.”

“What?” had been her reply before she'd blacked out again.

Waking up in the hospital had allowed the reality of what had happened to sink in. Kenya had suspected that she was pregnant. That explained her weight gain. But she had been too afraid to take a pregnancy test, knowing that a baby would have complicated her life in ways that she'd never recover from. Then finding out that Maurice had been cheating on her had solidified her resolve not to tell him about her suspicions. Then there was her mother. Angela would have been devastated to know that Kenya had done the very thing that she'd promised she wouldn't do.

The doctor had walked into the room. “Miss Taylor, I'm sorry for you loss,” he'd said as he sat on the edge of her bed. “Would you like for me to call your parents or the father?”

“No,” she'd said. “I'll be fine.”

“You shouldn't go through this alone.”

“I didn't even know I was pregnant. You can't miss what you never knew about.”

He'd pulled out a pad and had written down the name of a counselor. “I can't make you go see this doctor, but I think you should talk to someone about your loss, if not your parents or the father. Please talk to someone.”

Pain had shot through her body as she'd tried to sit up in the bed. Lying back, Kenya had looked at the doctor and told him that she'd be fine.

But she'd never been the same since. She'd never been able to reclaim that lost part of her soul. Losing Maurice's baby and his love had scarred her for life, and hiding those scars had forced her into her life of solitude.

For the rest of her days in college, Kenya had turned down more dates than she could count. When she'd be out and see a young couple with a small child, her heart would lurch. That could have been her and Maurice. And whenever she'd thought of Maurice, she'd wondered what his reaction would have been to her pregnancy. Would he have accused her of trying to trap him and cash in on his potential NFL salary? Would he have left his new relationship to be with Kenya and his child, or would he have harbored resentment toward her for forcing him into something he might not have been ready for?

 

 

I wasn't ready for motherhood, and maybe that was God's way of saving my child from a hard life,
she thought as she shut down her computer and prepared to go home.
Everything happens for a reason, and I can't question it or wonder what if. Maurice doesn't have to know.

When Kenya arrived in the lobby, she found Maurice standing at the security desk, signing an autograph for the guard with one hand and holding a bag of Chinese takeout with the other.

“Mo?” she said.

Looking up at her and smiling, Maurice said, “I figured you were still here, so I came to collect on my dinner rain check.”

“Not tonight. I have to get home. I still have some unpacking to do, and I stayed here later than I'd expected,” Kenya said.

“Maybe I can help,” said Maurice.

Oh no,
she thought as she looked at him.
You and me alone at my place spells trouble, and you're not going to just eat and leave. I know that much.

“I got it. I just have to unpack some boxes and set up my entertainment center,” she said.

“Have you eaten dinner or even lunch? Basically, I'm not going to take no for an answer. You can say yes, or I'll just follow you. I can't let this food go to waste. It's already gotten cold,” Maurice said, flashing her a smile that made her heart melt.

“If she doesn't want that food, I'll take it,” the security guard said. “It sure smells good.”

Maurice opened the bag and handed the man an egg roll and a carton of fried rice. “I still have plenty for us,” he said, looking at Kenya as if to tell her that they were going to share a meal tonight whether she liked it or not.

“Fine,” Kenya said, resigning herself to the fact that she was going to be in his company tonight.

They walked to the parking lot in silence, stealing glances at each other. Kenya wasn't surprised to see Maurice was driving a 1968 cherry red Mustang. When they were younger, that was all he had talked about. As she slid into her Lexus SUV, she thought about the raggedy cars that they'd driven when they were younger, happier, and carefree, and how she'd had their wedding planned and the notes hidden in the trunk of her rusting Camaro.

To be young and stupid all over again,
she thought as she started the car. Driving to her condo in the Southpark area, Kenya wondered if she should have allowed him to follow her home. What if Imani was right about him? Could he be faithful when he was in such hot demand?

Why am I worried about him being faithful?
she thought as she wheeled into the lot of her complex.
Maurice and I aren't in a relationship, and we're never going to be. He can try all he wants. I've been there and done that. Besides, I'm sure he can have any woman in Charlotte. So why does he want to spend his time with me?

Kenya hopped out of the SUV and waited for Maurice to park his car. “Nice,” she said once he got out. “You always wanted this, didn't you?”

“There are a lot of things I always wanted and don't have.” Maurice had a lustful tone in his voice and a dangerous gleam in his eye. It seemed to scream sex and the pleasures that she'd dreamed of since the moment she'd left the island.

“Guess we'd better get inside and have dinner,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said as he followed her up the steps to her second-story condo. “This area of town is nice. I'm surprised you didn't move uptown.”

“I work there. I don't want to live there, too. It's quiet out here, and I love that. From what I hear, the residents of this area fight development tooth and nail to keep things quiet and peaceful.” She opened the door and pushed a box of art aside to give them a clear path to the sofa. “It's a mess in here.”

Maurice didn't notice, because he was too busy watching Kenya kick her pumps off and remove her jacket, revealing a sleeveless satin tunic that highlighted her toned arms. He marveled at how she'd changed but yet was the same woman that he'd loved all those years ago. She turned around and looked at him.

“You can set the food on that coffee table,” she said. “I'll be right back.”

As Kenya walked into her bedroom, she prayed that Maurice wouldn't follow her. She needed to breathe in and not smell his masculine aroma. Standing in her crowded living room was too much. She was going to have to eat fast and get him out of her house.

“Where's your entertainment center that you need to put together?” he called out.

“In the corner,” she replied. “I don't have any tools, though.”

“I have some in the car. I'll be right back.”

When Kenya heard the front door close, she felt comfortable enough to take off her clothes and change into velour track pants and a tank top. As she slipped on a pair of socks, she heard Maurice reenter the house.

“Kenya,” he called out.

“I'll be right out,” she said as she took a deep breath and walked into the living room.

Maurice stood in the middle of the room, with a green toolbox in his hand. She recognized it as his father's toolbox. If Maurice hadn't become a football player, Kenya was sure that he would have been a mechanic. When his father left, Maurice lost visible interest in working on cars and fixing bikes. Memories of their youth flashed in her mind. Days of sitting on the front porch and playing tag seemed like yesterday.