Playing For Keeps (3 page)

Commitment scared Malcolm, most especially since his first relationship had failed so miserably. He and his ex-wife, Shanell, had been college sweethearts. Back then he'd loved everything about Shanell, even the bad habits that had eventually torn them apart. With Shanell he'd been blinded by love, refusing to see the worst of their relationship even when he'd been slapped in the face with it time and time again.

The lies had been the start. Half-truths and blatant omissions. There wasn't anything Malcolm could ever ask of Shanell that didn't come with a wealth of excuses and a plethora of misunderstandings. The end had finally come after her arrest for prostitution. The first arrest of many more that had followed. The wealth of drama in between had only been the icing on some very bitter cake. Malcolm had missed all the signs of her addiction and mostly because he'd been lost knee-deep in his own. Now that he'd been sober far longer than not, Malcolm had no problems admitting that he was an alcoholic. He lived to tell his story in hopes that he could help just one soul take that first step toward recovery. His daughters had been one year old the last time he'd had a drink and even though the club put him directly in the line of fire more times than not, there was nothing and no one that could ever bring him back to the bottle and some of the darkest days of his life. The bar served as a daily reminder of what he could lose if he ever thought to drink again.

Shanell though still had not learned that lesson. Despite her constant assurances that she had changed and her life was different, Malcolm wasn't so sure. Trusting his daughters with their mother was the hardest thing for him to do, but she'd become adept at convincing the girl's court appointed attorney and the crew at child protective services that she only had their best interests at heart. But each and every court-mandated visit felt like punishment and he hated that his girls were both suffering for the mistakes he and Shanell had made.

Turning his life around for Cleo and Claudia had come without a second thought. There was nothing Malcolm would not do for his girls. Time and time again Shanell had pledged to do the same and with every broken promise Malcolm had found himself equally shattered. So much so that when he'd finally declared the marriage done and finished his heart had been a fragmented semblance of its original self.

For years after, he'd struggled with issues of intimacy and trust and his self-esteem had been crushed. The road back had taught him much about himself and his inner strength. Discovering the best and worst of himself had also taught him what he wanted, and needed, from the woman who might one day lay claim to his heart. More importantly, it taught him what he didn't need or want in return and what he absolutely refused to accept and tolerate.

Malcolm liked the man he now was. He was proud of his accomplishments. He was a great father and he knew that one day he'd be a dynamic partner for the right woman. But as far as Malcolm was concerned “one day” was a long way away and not something he saw himself giving any immediate thought to. Nor did he have any interest or desire in discovering who that right woman was, even if it was by happenstance. But in spite of that proclamation he still couldn't for the life of him get thoughts of Cilla Jameson out of his head.

 

 

Cilla peeked out of the window of her new condominium. The couple who lived two doors away were arguing in the parking lot, she not happy with something he had done. They had been screaming back and forth at each other for the last ten minutes. As they stood beneath the lights that illuminated the outdoor space it was easy to see the frustration that painted both of their expressions. When the man finally stormed off, leaving his female companion standing there in tears, Cilla felt for both of them. But watching them reminded her of why she didn't do relationships. Her own personal experiences had taught her that most never ended well.

She stole a quick glance to the grandfather clock that decorated her front entrance. It was late and she should have been in bed hours ago. It was going to make for a difficult time when her alarm clock would sound at five-thirty
A.M.
She blew a deep breath as she moved from the window into her kitchen to fill a glass with water.

Minutes later she eased her body back into bed, drawing the sheet and covers up to her shoulders. She suddenly thought about the evening she might have missed at that jazz club, having thought it better that she stay home and not take Malcolm Cobb up on his invitation. She clutched the sheets as she thought about the man. It had taken more than an ounce of fortitude not to give in to the curiosity that had kept him in her thoughts. But then she remembered the old adage about curiosity killing some cat and she knew that no good could have come from her going. At least that was what she'd been telling herself since she'd gotten home from work, determined to justify the regret she was suddenly feeling.

Her head waved from side to side. She should have gone. She had wanted to see Malcolm Cobb again. She wanted to talk to him, to laugh at his jokes and to see him on his own turf. If nothing else, she was intrigued by the flutter of desire she felt during their encounter, wondering if there was any sustenance to it or if it was just a fleeting feeling. She was suddenly kicking herself for not following her instincts. Second-guessing herself surely had not served her well because here she was, wide awake, alone, and thinking about a man who had managed to capture her attention. Wondering what might have been.

Second-guessing her instincts had never served Cilla well and she knew it. She had second-guessed her last relationship only to discover that every suspicion she had about John Parker had been even worse than she imagined. She'd suspected infidelity. She hadn't banked on a wife and three kids, the discovery a complete devastation. She had also second-guessed her relationship with that college frat boy, the blond, blue-eyed banker's son, an admitted pot-smoking horticulturalist. She thought he was a slacker while they were together, but after Colorado's legalization of the organic buzz, he'd become a multibillionaire overnight. Now he and her former college roommate were living the good life on three continents. Second-guessing herself had never boded well and Cilla was determined to stop. For once in her twenty-nine years she was determined to follow her intuition to see where that led her. The more she thought about Malcolm, the more she reasoned she didn't have anything at all to lose.

Chapter Three

Despite another restless night Malcolm was up and out early. His morning run was timed perfectly, early enough for him to avoid the rising heat and humidity the local weather forecasts were promising for the day. And like clockwork once he was done running he headed toward his local Starbucks, arriving at the door shortly after their opening.

Cilla had already made herself comfortable at the corner table when Malcolm eased his way inside. She smiled brightly when she caught his eye, lifting two beverage cups in the air. Malcolm's grin was miles wide as he made his way to her side. It had been two whole weeks since he'd last laid eyes on her. He'd actually given up hope that they might run into each other again so he couldn't help but wonder what had brought her there.

“Good morning!” she chimed sweetly. “They told me this was your favorite. I hope they got it right,” she said as she shot a quick look toward the Starbucks employee who was beaming at them both.

“I'm sure it's perfect,” Malcolm said as he took the seat beside her. He was still grinning foolishly, the sight of her a welcome surprise.

“I thought I'd repay the favor,” Cilla said, answering his unspoken question. “And I wanted to see you again.”

Malcolm's eyes widened. He was taken aback by her comment. Any other woman and he might have questioned her motives. But there was something about the shimmer in Cilla's dark eyes that felt genuine. The words out of her mouth felt open and honest. He never gave a second thought to believing Cilla. It had been some time since he'd met a woman who felt so forthcoming when he knew so little about her.

He nodded. “I take that to mean I made a good first impression.”

Cilla smiled. “You did all right,” she said teasingly. Her laugh was magnetic and the more she smiled the more she made him want to smile.

“I didn't think I was going to ever see you again,” Malcolm said matter-of-factly. “I kept looking for you at the club.”

She nodded. “I've had a really hectic schedule. I still plan to come check you and your business out though.”

“I hope you do. I think you'll have a good time. But I'm glad you're here now,” Malcolm said, his voice sweet and rich like a thick blend of honey and molasses.

She laughed heartily, a blush of color washing over her expression. “So am I,” she said as she leaned back in her seat.

She took a slow sip of her morning coffee, her gaze locking with his. She was excited to find him staring so intently as if he were trying to memorize each line and dimple of her profile. Staring back, their gazes danced together and she realized it would take very little for her to lose herself in the depths of his stare.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as she shook her head from side to side. When she reopened them he was still staring, his bright smile radiating over her. She took another deep breath. She suddenly needed conversation to stall the rising emotion flowing between them.

“So, if you're at the club nights what do you do during the day?” she asked as she rested her cup against the table. Malcolm shifted his own beverage cup next to hers. “Well, this morning I'm flying to Baltimore. I have an architectural business there and every few weeks I fly in to show my face and make sure things are on track.”

“So you're running two businesses?”

He nodded. “I am. Two very successful businesses,” he said, his broad chest seeming to push forward ever so slightly.

She found his bravado entertaining. “When do you come back?”

His eyes skated back and forth as if he were trying to remember his itinerary. “That depends. When are you going to have dinner with me?”

Cilla laughed. “When you get back from Baltimore,” she said, her seductive tone matching his.

“Then I'll be back tonight.” Malcolm grinned as he leaned forward in his seat. “What time should I pick you up?”

Cilla reached for the cell phone he'd rested on the tabletop. He never once flinched as he watched her. It was one of the newest Android smartphones and it wasn't password protected. She slid a manicured nail across the screen, moving through all his apps until she found his contact list. As she scrolled through the numbers she lifted her eyes to his for a brief second. Amusement painted his expression as he stared. Dropping her gaze back to the device she pushed the
ADD
button then entered her contact information. Once it was saved she passed the phone back to him.

“Call me when you land. We can figure out the rest then,” she said.

Malcolm nodded. He picked up his phone, scrolled through his numbers, and pushed the DIAL button. Seconds later Cilla's own phone rang in her pocket.

She laughed. “You didn't trust me?”

He shook his head. “Nothing of the kind. I just wanted to make sure you recognized the number. And, now that you have my contact information, I hope you'll use it.”

She rose from her seat. “Have a great day, Mr. Cobb!”

“I'm sure dinner and dessert will put the great in this day, Ms. Jameson.”

With a low giggle Cilla crossed the room and headed for the exit. As she reached the door she tossed him a glance over her shoulder. Malcolm was staring after her, his eyes following the side-to-side sway of her hips as he bit down against his bottom lip. She shook her head, her eyes rolling as she met the look he was giving her.

She called to him from across the room. “Really?”

Malcolm laughed heartily, his shoulders pushed into a deep shrug, his palms opened toward the ceiling. With another wave of her head, Cilla turned and disappeared out the door. Malcolm grinned. Dinner couldn't happen fast enough.

 

 

Despite the tight schedule, Malcolm had showered, shaved, kissed his daughters off to school, and had made his charter flight from Raleigh-Durham International Airport to BWI Marshall with time to spare. By ten forty-five he was opening the door to his East Pratt Street design firm, the staff greeting him warmly.

His dream come true, the opening of 3C Innovative Designs was one of his most successful accomplishments. After graduating with an engineering degree he'd been committed to building an architectural firm that ran circles around its competitors. Sheer drive and love for his craft had pushed them to the forefront in the industry. They were now listed as one of the top five companies in the nation.

His leaving Baltimore and moving his family to Raleigh had come with some reservations and much risk but had been one of the best decisions he could have made. The business had survived, and excelled, in spite of him having to travel back and forth to do what he needed to do. He credited a talented staff and dedicated employees for helping him accomplish what many had said would be impossible.

Maxine Perry peeked her head into his office and said hello. “Did you already have your morning coffee or can I get you a cup?”

He crossed the room to give the woman a hug. His administrative assistant for as long as he had the business, she was soft and sweet like warm cookie dough but polished like a vintage jewel. The business suit she wore was an Anne Klein classic design, one she had probably purchased years ago and had taken meticulous care of. “I'm good this morning, Miss Maxine. How've you been?”

He leaned back against the circular conference table that sat in the center of the room. Crossing his arms over his chest he focused his attention on his ex-wife's mother.

Miss Maxine nodded. “Every morning I get up is a good morning,” she said with a soft cackle. “How's the nightclub business treating you?”

“It's kicking my butt. I'm really starting to feel like I'm too old for all this,” he said with a deep chuckle.

Miss Maxine laughed with him. “You don't know old yet!”

Malcolm nodded as he moved to the back side of the desk and took a seat in the leather executive's chair. “Other than feeling twice my age sometimes, I really can't complain. The club is thriving and you're holding things together here. What more could a man ask for?”

She smiled. “So how are my grandbabies?”

“The girls are doing very well. Both of them made the honor roll and Claudia was chosen to do a solo at her dance recital next month. Shanell will have them with her this weekend.”

Miss Maxine frowned. “Shanell was just here in Baltimore. She came by the house the other night wanting to borrow some money. I got the impression she was planning to be here for a while. She didn't say anything about driving back to Raleigh to get the girls.”

Malcolm blew a low sigh. “Well, I haven't heard that she doesn't plan to pick them up but if I do, I'll let you know.”

“I miss my girls. I like that we can do that video chat during the week.”

Malcolm laughed. “They get a kick out of it, too. But I have to keep my eye on Cleo. She'll chat all day and all night with anyone and everyone.”

The matriarch chuckled warmly. “I'm glad she's got you to keep her in check. You're a good man, Malcolm Cobb. I wish my daughter could have seen that.”

Malcolm didn't bother to reply and his former mother-in-law didn't expect him to. She continued, “You have a meeting with the design team in thirty minutes and with the rest of the staff at one o'clock. There's a stack of papers on your desk that need your signature and we have a new client coming in at three.”

He nodded. “I was planning to fly back tomorrow but something's come up. I really need to fly back this evening. Can you please . . . ?”

Holding up her hand she stalled his comment. She gave him a smile and a wink of her eye. “I'll take care of it. What time do you need to be in Raleigh?”

“Before eight if we can swing it,” he answered.

“Do you need reservations on that end?”

Malcolm hesitated, his eyes shifting as his mind suddenly raced. His gaze finally rested on the woman's face and he felt himself blush under the stare she was giving him. Despite his best efforts his intentions showed all over his face. He suddenly felt like he'd been caught red-handed, with his arm trapped deep in the cookie jar.

She laughed, the wealth of it feeling like a warm embrace. “I'll take care of everything,” she said. She moved forward and hugged him one more time. “It's good to have you back, even if it is just for a hot minute,” she said as she moved back out of the office.

Watching her shuffle back to her own desk, Malcolm blew a soft sigh. Maxine Perry was one of his favorite people in the whole world. The day he'd met Shanell he'd fallen head over heels in love with her mother. It had taken some time before he felt that way about Shanell. Few women had as kind a spirit as Maxine. She was always encouraging and confident and optimism prevailed despite the hardships handed to her. Born and raised in Maryland the woman had not had an easy life. She'd been a single mother who'd managed to put herself through college and had been determined to do the same for her children. Of her six kids she'd buried all of her sons, the five young men having succumbed to the streets of Baltimore. Shanell was all she had left and the matriarch had given up everything she had to keep her daughter on the straight and narrow, despite Shanell's insistence on walking a crooked line.

Malcolm would always be in Maxine Perry's debt because during his darkest days it had been Maxine who'd pushed him back to the light. She'd held his hands, his head, and had been at his back without him ever asking, her presence and love as steadfast as that of his own mother. As he stood thinking about her she moved back into the room, snapping her fingers for his attention. He jumped slightly as his gaze shifted to where she pointed. Her index finger waved from the clock to the conference room.

“You don't want to be late,” she said as she dropped a hand onto her full hips.

He nodded. “No, ma'am. I certainly don't!”

 

 

At six-fifteen Malcolm was well past Baltimore's evening traffic, sitting on the tarmac. He had dinner reservations for eight-thirty and he knew the two dozen yellow roses resting on the seat beside him was Maxine's way of giving him her approval and support even though he hadn't told her anything at all about the woman she was making plans for. He hoped Cilla loved them as much as he loved the gesture.

Just minutes before the pilot announced that they were ready for takeoff he called home. His mother answered just as he was about to hang up.

“Is everything okay?” Malcolm questioned, concern ringing in his tone.

Miss Claudette nodded into the receiver. “We're fine. The girls and I were outside planting some rosebushes. I left the phone inside on the kitchen table and had to run for it.”

“You should have made one of the girls run.”

“They both had their hands dirty and I didn't want them to stop doing what they were doing. So how's Baltimore?”

He shrugged. “No different since the last time you asked me.”

Miss Claudette laughed. “Well then how is my friend Maxine?”

“She's holding it down.”

“My girl always does. God bless her!”

“She said she's going to call you because she wants to arrange for you and the girls to drive up and meet her at Potomac Mills for a weekend shopping spree.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“I told her I'd treat.”

“Then we will definitely take you up on that! If I don't hear from her in the next day or two I'll call her.”

“Well, as long as you and the girls are doing okay, I'll let you go. I'll give the girls a call later, right before they go to bed.”

“Do you need a ride from the airport tomorrow?”