Craving Temptation (11 page)

“Then marry me now and if it's what you want we'll keep it our secret until after the election. Once the election is over, we'll make the announcement and move you in here.”

“But we will still be sneaking around, Troy.”

He nodded. “I would much rather we tell everyone the minute it happens but if you're not ready, then I'm willing to give you the time you need. But I would rather sneak around to spend time with my wife, than sneak around to spend time with some other guy's preschool fiancée. And if we get caught, what can anyone say? We'll be legally married.”

Amina blew a deep sigh. She didn't know what to think. On the one hand it made all the sense in the world. On the other it was the craziest thing she'd ever considered.

Amina felt like the third wheel as Kareem Fayed and her brother chatted easily. Once again they seemed to discount her presence at the table. The restaurant was comfortable but there was nothing about the company of either man that had her feeling at ease. She couldn't help but wish she were still with Troy back at his home. She took a deep breath as she looked from one to the other. Kareem tossed her a smile.

“So, Amina, are you enjoying your stay here in Memphis?” Kareem asked.

She nodded. “Memphis is beginning to feel like home.”

“I was telling Basil that I'd enjoy taking you around to help you with the adjustment. It will give us an opportunity to get to know each other better. Basil was in agreement.”

“You might want to consider asking me if that's something I'd be interested in, not Basil,” Amina said.

Kareem smiled. “Forgive me. I forget that you are a woman with a very strong will.”

Basil shot her a hateful look. “Brother, I apologize for my sister's rudeness. Amina is still learning our ways and expectations.”

Amina bristled. “I am quite capable of speaking for myself, Basil,” she said.

Kareem held up a hand toward her brother. “I admire your spirit, Amina. And I know your brother only has your best interest at heart.”

There was a moment of awkward silence that dropped down over the table. Amina focused her attention on the serving of pasta before her, wishing she could be anyplace other than where she was. She looked up to find Kareem staring at her, the look in his eyes disturbing. Her heartbeat raced slightly and she suddenly felt like prey that was being hunted. She took a deep breath to ease the sensation.

“So, Basil tells me that you two have done business together?”

Kareem nodded. “I helped your brother acquire some property he was interested in.”

“I was telling Amina that the other day. That I want that piece on the corner of Beale Street. With her legal connections she'll be very useful to us.”

“I'm still not understanding,” Amina said. “You said you already hold the title to some of that property. How'd you manage that? That area is prime real estate. I imagine that would have taken a significant cash investment.”

Basil sneered, tossing Kareem a look. “Not necessarily.”

Kareem smiled. “Basil utilized the adverse possession laws to his benefit. Most of the property he acquired was vacant or foreclosed and with no true claims of ownership he filed the appropriate paperwork with the register of deeds office.”

Amina looked from one to the other, her eyes blinking anxiously. “You're kidding me, right?”

Basil tossed her a look. “Why would we be kidding?”

“Because that's illegal, Basil. You can't just go claim other people's property.”

The two men tossed each other a look.

Amina shook her head from side to side. “Don't you know you can go to jail for that?”

“For what?” Basil snapped. “For being creative? For being ingenious? For getting the job done in away that you can't fathom?”

“For obtaining property by false pretenses! What you've done undermines the entire real estate process. Why do we need mortgages and contracts when you can just go take someone's property?”

“Stay out of my business, Amina. You need to just do what you're told. Now, I need some paperwork filed downtown for that corner piece on Beale Street. You need to get that done. Kareem will give you the details. It's not your place to ask questions.”

Amina leaned forward in her seat. She snatched the veil from her face, wanting to ensure her brother made no mistakes about what she was feeling. Her face was ice. She hissed under her breath. “Not in this lifetime or the next will I risk my legal license for you, Basil. There's a family that owns that property. It's theirs
legally
. You being deceptive, pretending you know what you're doing, won't change that fact.”

Basil slammed his cloth napkin against the table. Kareem sat upright, looking from one sibling to the other.

“Basil, I'm sure you and I can address all of Amina's concerns and assure her that we've done nothing wrong.”

Amina tossed Kareem a look as he continued. “Amina, all Basil has done is found a lawful way to work the system. People are millionaires all day long for doing that very thing. Essentially, Basil formed a private trust, made himself the trustee, filled out a deed, and had it recorded at the register of deeds office. It was all perfectly legal.”

Amina tossed up her hands. “Just because you file a new deed and put your name on it doesn't make you the exclusive owner! Does Father know about this scam of yours?” she asked, still staring at her brother.

Basil suddenly lunged across the table. He grabbed her by the neck, his hand like a vice cutting off her oxygen. Amina's eyes widened in horror.

“If you breathe one word of this to Father, I will hurt you, Amina. Don't cross me, little girl! I promise you, if you do, you will know hurt like you have never known hurt before!” he repeated before pushing her harshly back against her seat.

Amina gasped for air, clutching both of her hands to her neck as she came to her feet. Tears misted her eyes. Basil stood upright, adjusting his suit jacket around his torso. He tossed a harsh glare around the dining room, eyeing the few patrons who were watching them. His stare was challenging. Kareem stood up as well just as the restaurant manager rushed to the table. Amina recognized the man from the mosque.

“Is there a problem here?” he questioned.

Kareem shook his head. “We apologize, brother. Our sister here was just having a moment.”

“It won't happen again,” Basil added.

The man looked from the two men to Amina and back. He nodded, and said nothing, as he moved back toward the kitchen.

Basil tossed Amina one last glare as he sat back down, his arms crossed over his chest. Kareem heaved a deep sigh, taking his own seat. He reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out his billfold. He dropped four twenty-dollar bills onto the table, then focused his gaze on Amina.

“Sit down, Amina,” he said, his tone commanding. “And fix your veil.”

He reached for her arm and she snatched the appendage from his grasp. She hurled her veil to the floor. “Go to hell,” she spat. “Both of you go straight to hell!” Then turning, Amina rushed from the restaurant to her car.

When Troy had opened his front door Amina had thrown herself into his arms. Tears had been streaming down her face, her body shaking with rage. She'd been holding onto him for ten minutes and he still had no clue what had upset her. He tightened his arms around her torso and pulled her closer, wanting to ease whatever was paining her. He felt her body finally relax against his and he gently kissed her forehead.

He gently cupped his hand beneath her chin and lifted her eyes to his. “What happened, baby?”

She shook her head, her eyes misting again. She swiped at her face with the back of both hands. There was a sadness in the dark orbs that Troy found disconcerting but she seemed unwilling to let him inside.

“I'm sorry,” Amina said, still rubbing at her eyes. “I just . . .”

Troy led her into his family room and eased her onto a seat. He pulled the ottoman in front of her and sat down. Leaning toward her he clasped both of her hands in his. “Talk to me, Amina,” he commanded.

She took a deep breath, her gaze locking with his. “Basil,” she said, her head shaking.

“I don't understand. Did something happen to your brother?”

Amina slowly undid the pins that held her hijab in place. With methodical precision she unwrapped one side and then the other until she'd released her curls, her hair falling free against her shoulders. She laid the scarf on the table beside her chair. She took another breath then slowly lifted her chin, brushing her fingers across her skin.

Amina's neck was bruised, her pale complexion mottled black and blue. Troy bristled, the concern on his face shifting to something like rage. He stood up so abruptly that it scared her and she gasped loudly, her eyes widening.

“Troy!”

“Your brother did that to you?”

Amina nodded, her tears dropping against her cheeks. She gestured for him to sit back down and told him what had happened. She told him all of it. How Basil was stealing property that did not belong to him. How he wanted her help in doing so. How he'd choked her until she felt like she might pass out from the infraction. She told him and when she was done Troy was angrier than he ever remembered being.

He stood back up and moved into the other room, returning with his cell phone.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm calling the police and you're going to file a complaint against your brother.”

“I can't, Troy. Please don't do that!” She reached for the phone in his hand and powered it down.

His expression was incredulous. “What do you mean you can't? You have to, Amina!”

“I can't. It would affect my father. I can't be responsible for the headlines reading that candidate Nasser Salman's son was charged with assault. It would destroy any chance he has in this campaign. And I can't have the record show that the victim is involved with his opponent. Your name can't be tied to this either.”

Troy heaved a deep sigh. “And what does your father say about this?”

“I haven't spoken to him. After it happened I came right here.”

“And this guy Fayed didn't do anything to help you?”

She shook her head no.

Troy paced the floor, his hands clutching his hips. “Well, I don't care about my campaign. You have to call the police.”

She shook her head. “I care, Troy. I care and I need you to support my decision. Please!”

He met her stare, her eyes pleading. His head waved from side to side, something in his gut uneasy with what she was asking of him. Troy wanted nothing more than to wrap his own hands around Basil Salman's neck. Amina's pressing charges against him would be the least of Basil's worries. Doing nothing felt all kinds of wrong.

He sat back down. “So what do you want to do?”

An uneasy silence shifted between them. Since she'd pulled out of the restaurant's parking garage that was all she had thought of. What she should do. What she wanted to do. The questions had played over and over again in her mind until they'd blurred into a raging migraine that had her head feeling like it was about to explode off her shoulders. But even in the midst of all the pain there was only one thing she was certain of.

“Amina?”

She lifted her eyes back to Troy's, easing into the embrace of his loving gaze. She shifted forward in her seat. “The only thing I want to do right now is marry you. I just want to be your wife.”

 

 

“Enough,” Nasser snapped as he slammed his hand against the top of his mahogany desk.

“But Father . . .”

“I said enough, Basil!”

Basil had been pleading his case to his father for over an hour, the patriarch eyeing him with disdain. Nasser had nothing to say as his son blamed his own bad behavior on something Amina had done. Without knowing any details about their confrontation he knew Basil would have lied by omission or he would have just lied outright, embellishing the story in his own favor. If Nasser knew nothing else he knew his son's many flaws and faults. He reached his last level of tolerance when his efforts to contact his eldest daughter failed, Amina not answering his calls. She'd not been seen or heard from and he was past the point of being worried.

Nasser turned his attention to his youngest child. “Rasheeda, have you spoken to your sister?”

Rasheeda shook her head. “No, sir.”

“Do you know where she might have gone?”

“No, sir.”

Nasser stared at the girl, her eyes focused on the floor beneath her feet. He moved to her side and leaned to kiss her forehead. “Do not worry yourself, Rasheeda. I'm sure that your sister is fine. She is very street savvy. Now, if Amina calls you, you tell her I want her to come home. Tell her everything is going to be fine. Is that understood?”

Rasheeda lifted her eyes to stare at her father. She tossed Basil a look, her brother eyeing her with a narrowed gaze. Shifting her focus back to Nasser she nodded. “Yes, Father.”

As Nasser walked out of the room he gestured for Basil to follow him. Before doing so Basil moved to Rasheeda's side. “If she calls you, you tell me where she is first. Do you understand me?” he hissed, his hot breath blowing against her face.

Rasheeda looked him in the eye but said nothing. Basil clenched his fists, his jawline tight. He repeated himself. “Do you understand me, Rasheeda?”

Before she could respond their father called from the other room. “Basil! Now!”

Basil tossed her one last look as he made his way out of the room. Rasheeda blew the breath she'd been holding past her lips. She took an inhalation of air, filling her lungs before releasing it slowly. Moving out of the living space, she headed to her bedroom and closed the door. Changing out of her clothes, she slid beneath the covers and engaged her reader. She had only read two chapters when she heard her father's bedroom door close. She was finished with the fifth chapter when she heard Basil exit the home, his pretty sports car pulling out of the driveway. It wasn't until she finished the ninth chapter, when she was certain her father was asleep and Basil was long gone, that she dialed Amina's cell phone number and waited for her sister to answer.

Amina was sound asleep in Troy's bed. He looked in on her for the umpteenth time, needing to assure himself that she was safe and well. They had talked for a good while and despite his finally agreeing to handle things her way he found himself second-guessing his decision.

Early in his legal career he'd done some pro bono work for a women's shelter located in downtown Memphis. Too many of their clients had been women who'd been abused by a man they had trusted to protect them. Husbands, fathers, even a son or two had been guilty of some sort of physical assault and in too many cases the women had refused to prosecute.

Troy had grown weary of the excuses, many of them founded in fear. His last case had been the hardest. The young woman had barely been twenty-four, pregnant with her third child. Her boyfriend had only slapped her the first time. Dragged her by the hair the second. Troy first met her after she'd been burned with a hot iron, the scar a reminder every time she looked in the mirror.

The young woman had blamed herself, believing that things would have been different had she not been the woman she was. Thinking that her love had not been enough to calm the beast that claimed her man's soul. Excuses for every bruise and broken bone had rained from her mouth like water from a faucet. The last time her boyfriend had hit her, also flinging her eight-year-old son down a flight of stairs, had been her moment of reckoning. Troy was pleased to say the boyfriend was doing a twenty-plus-year sentence for his many crimes and the young woman and her children were thriving.

As he looked down on Amina, her body curled into the fetal position around one of his pillows, he found himself second-guessing himself and her. He blew a deep sigh as he pulled a cashmere blanket up and over her shoulders and leaned to press a light kiss to her cheek.

Moving out of the room Troy eased himself into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He didn't imagine that he would be able to get any sleep so he saw no reason to try. As he waited for the Keurig coffeemaker to brew him a hot cup of brew, Amina's cell phone vibrated against the countertop where she had left it. Earlier, it had rung nonstop and she had refused to answer it. Then there'd been silence. Despite his insistence, Amina had adamantly refused to call home. As it rang again Troy fathomed someone might be worried about her. So he answered the call, pulling the device to his ear.

“Hello?”

Silence greeted him on the other end.

“Hello?”

There was a long pause, a loud moment of quiet trolling across the phone line. Behind the quiet came the sound of someone breathing, a hint of curiosity in each breath.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Troy asked for the third time.

Rasheeda cleared her throat, her voice a low whisper into the receiver. “Yes, hello. I'm trying to reach Amina Salman. Have I dialed the right number?”

“You did. Is this her sister?”

“Yes, I'm Rasheeda Salman. Is this Troy?”

He smiled ever so slightly, mildly surprised that Amina's sister knew his name. “Yes, it is!”

“Is my sister okay? Basil didn't hurt her badly, did he? I was worried about her.”

“She's fine. She's a little shaken up but she's going to be okay. She's sound asleep right now. Do you want me to wake her?”

Rasheeda blew a sigh of relief. “No, let her rest. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. I know she's safe with you.”

Troy nodded, then remembered she couldn't see him through the phone. “You don't have to worry. I promise you I'll make sure Amina is okay.”

“Thank you.”

“How about you?” Troy asked. “Are you okay? We don't need to be concerned about your safety, do we?”

There was a moment's hesitation before Rasheeda responded. “I'll be fine. Don't let her worry about me.”

Reflecting on her tone, Troy wasn't altogether sure that he believed her. “Okay, but if you need anything from either one of us, you just call. Take my cell number,” he said as the seven digits rolled off his tongue. “Anything, Rasheeda, and I mean it. Or, if for any reason you can't call, just find your way back to the bakery. You'll be safe there.”

“Okay,” Rasheeda answered.

“Promise me,” Troy intoned.

“I promise.”

There was another moment of hesitation between them. Troy broke the silence. “I'll tell Amina to call you as soon as she wakes up.”

“Thank you. And Troy?”

“Yes?”

“Please, tell my sister I love her.”