Playing For Keeps (5 page)

“Why do you look so serious?” Cilla suddenly questioned, interrupting his thoughts.

He shrugged, a slight smile pulling at his mouth. He swallowed a spoonful of soup then swiped at his mouth with a cloth napkin. “I was actually thinking about you and wondering what you might be thinking.”

“I'm having a wonderful time. The food is magnificent and I'm enjoying the company.”

He nodded, his smile widening. “So tell me about yourself. Since I've shared my deep dark secrets it's only fair that you share yours.” He leaned back in his seat, an arm thrown over the back of it as he waited for her to talk.

Cilla laughed and the warmth of it flooded his spirit. “My deep dark secrets,” she said as her gaze floated around the room. “I'm not sure I have any.”

“Oh, I'm sure you have a few.”

She shrugged, her narrow shoulders pushing toward the ceiling. “Not really. I was a military brat. I grew up on the base in Adana, Turkey. My parents divorced when I was nine and my biological father didn't have anything to do with me after that. My mother moved here to North Carolina with her second husband who turned out to be a perfect father-figure. I was so desperate to have their approval that I was an absolute angel. I got good grades, never missed a curfew, dated all the right boys, and did everything I was supposed to do. Even during college and after I moved out on my own, I've always played by the rules. There's nothing deep or dark there.”

“So, would dating me break that vicious cycle you seem to be caught in?”

Cilla grinned. “Probably not. I don't think my parents would see you as a bad boy. You've got too much going for you.”

The conversation continued through the salad; a blend of baby arugula leaves, roasted sweet potatoes, bell peppers, red onion, Parmigiano cheese, and a honeyed balsamic vinaigrette. Laughter was abundant as they teased back and forth, sharing stories about their childhoods and their families.

“Being an only child I was spoiled rotten,” Cilla said, her smile bright. “And I'm very much a girlie girl. I kept Barbie dolls, hair bows, and all things pink in my bag of tricks. My father hated it!”

“Couldn't make a tomboy out of you, huh?”

“Not even a little!”

“Did you play any sports?” Malcolm questioned as he took a bite of his salad.

“Cheerleading!”

“That's not a sport!” he said with a laugh.

“You wish! You try doing sequences of back handsprings and double twisting layouts over and over again during a football or basketball game. The tumbling required is very much a sport.”

“Well, I was an athletic God! If it required a ball I had to play. But there was just one problem.”

Her lips lifted in a slight smile. “And what was that?”

“I really wasn't any good!” Malcolm answered with a hearty laugh. “In fact, I was really bad! More missed passes than I care to count and I couldn't make a free throw to save my life!”

By the time their entrée arrived both had shared more about each other than either had ever shared with anyone else before. They were served their meal by Walter Royal himself, the master chef, who was excited to see his friend again. He shook Cilla's hand earnestly as Malcolm introduced them. The chateaubriand was exquisite, cut from the tenderloin and served with pan-roasted fingerling potatoes and sautéed vegetables with ramekins of béarnaise sauce and shitake mushroom au jus. Both the meal and the conversation were satisfying beyond measure.

“So, what's your secret passion?” Malcolm asked, his eyebrows lifting curiously.

She took a moment to reflect on his question. “I love to quilt.”

“Quilt? Like in blankets?”

She shook her head. “No. I like creating artistic quilts. I'm sort of a closet textile artist. I make wall hangings out of fiber.”

“Wow! I can't wait to see your work,” he said.

“One day”, she said as she took a sip of her beverage. She placed the glass back on the table. “Tell me more about your business.”

“Well,” he started, as he gave her some history about the company he'd built and told her about his plans for expansion. As he spoke she listened intently, her eyes never leaving his face as she found herself caught up in his excitement. Time seemed to stand still as the two talked on and on.

“Mmmm!” Cilla moaned when they brought the dessert tray, the decadent treats making her mouth water.

It featured a variety of freshly baked cheesecakes, cobblers, pies, and multiple ice cream delicacies. Malcolm selected the blackberry cobbler; a fragrant dish of large, firm berries in a flaky, butter-laden crust served with a large scoop of vanilla ice cream. Cilla was unable to resist the Sawdust Pie, their award-winning, signature dessert topped with a dollop of sweetened whipped cream.

“This is my deep, dark secret,” she said as she slowly licked her dessert fork. She pulled the metal tines past her lips. “I have a weakness for sweets. I cannot pass up dessert. Ever. It's my addiction.”

Malcolm laughed. “Maybe I need to take you to one of my meetings. I go regularly. It's amazing what a twelve-step program will do for you.”

Cilla suddenly laid her fork along the side of her plate. Contrition washed over her expression. “I'm sorry. That was really insensitive of me, wasn't it?” she said, her apology shining brightly in her dark eyes. Malcolm shook his head.

“Nothing for you to apologize for. Addiction is an awkward subject for some people to discuss. I make jokes to help folks feel more comfortable. I don't want you to think you have to censor yourself around me. Ever. If there's something you need to say, then I want you to say it.”

Cilla took a deep breath. She nodded her head slightly. “I appreciate you being open with me. A lot of men wouldn't have done that. And if you're okay with it, as long as it doesn't impact our relationship from this point forward, we don't really need to talk about it again unless you just want to.”

“So, we have a relationship now?”

Her grin widened. “You bought me dinner. And dessert. I might start stalking you.”

He nodded. “If that's the case, and I'm laying all my cards on the table, I guess I should tell you that I did some time in prison, too.”

Cilla's fork came to an abrupt stop in midair, waving just inches from her open mouth. She cut her eye at him meeting the look he was giving her. She held his gaze, studying the look in his eyes. Taking a deep breath she drew her tongue across her lips as she closed her mouth and rested the fork back onto her plate.

“Prison?”

“Well, not really prison. It was actually county jail.”

“What was the charge?”

“Assault. It was some guy my ex-wife was sleeping with and I didn't take it well.”

“And that's the only thing you've done time for?”

“It was only eight months and when I got out, I got myself together. I stopped drinking and I haven't had any charges or committed any crimes since, nor do I plan to.”

Her expression suddenly went blank, her gaze shifting to some spot just past his shoulders. Malcolm could almost see her brain processing what she'd just learned. A wave of anxiety rushed the length of his spine, his stomach starting to tighten into a knot. He felt himself holding onto the air in his lungs as he waited for her to respond.

“So you're a convicted felon?”

He shook his head. “No. My crime was classified as a mid-level misdemeanor.”

There was another lengthy pause but this time she stared directly at him, their gazes locked tightly together.

Cilla finally nodded. “Under any other circumstances, with any other man, this would probably be our one and only date,” she said matter-of-factly. “I'd be too scared to take this any further. Wondering what other dark secrets you might decide to spring on me when I least expect it.” She paused.

“But?”

“But, I'm just overwhelmingly impressed by your honesty. And you don't frighten me. I actually like you.”

Malcom smiled, finally releasing that breath he'd been holding.

She picked up her fork and began eating again, her gaze still locked with his as she drew it to her mouth. She chewed slowly, then swallowed before speaking again. “I think the next time we go out we should go to Snoopy's for hotdogs. I'll even treat,” she said with a slight smile.

“It's a date!” Malcolm answered.

“It will be so don't you forget it,” Cilla replied.

Malcolm laughed. “I like you, too, Cilla Jameson. I really like you a lot.”

Cilla gave him a wink of her eye as she reached her fork into his plate and took a bite of his blackberry cobbler. Drawing it to her mouth she closed her eyes and purred softly, savoring the delicate flavors. When she opened them again, Malcolm was eyeing her intently, biting down against his bottom lip. Without her saying a word, he knew without any doubts that liking each other was just the tip of the iceberg of what they were both beginning to feel for each other.

Despite the late night hour, the evening ended too quickly. When they finally finished their meal neither was ready to part ways. Malcolm drove slowly back to the airport, and his own car, which was still parked in the airport's daily parking lot. Pulling behind his vehicle he shifted her car into park and turned off the engine.

Exiting the driver's side he sauntered around to the passenger side door and opened it. Cilla eased herself up and out, standing tall as she met his intense gaze.

“Thank you,” he said, his deep voice dropping to a loud whisper.

Cilla smiled. “I'm the one who needs to be thanking you. I had a really great time tonight.”

He reached for her hand, entwining his fingers between hers. Her palm was soft and warm, the touch electric. He led her around the car to the driver's side.

He was still holding tightly to her. “Call me when you get home, please, so I know you got there safely.”

“I will. Are you buying coffee in the morning?” she asked.

He grinned. “Are you meeting me?”

She nodded her head yes as she pressed her other hand to his chest, her finger tips burning hot through his dress shirt. She tilted her face upward, her eyes dancing in sync with his. Her mouth was opened slightly, anticipation blowing in the warm air that billowed past her moistened lips. She whispered. “Sweet dreams, Malcolm Cobb.”

Malcolm smiled as he leaned forward, pressing his cheek against hers. His words were heated as they blew past her ear. “I'll be dreaming about you,” he whispered.

He gave her hand one last squeeze as he kissed her cheek, his lips lingering briefly. Opening the car door he helped her inside. She gave him one last smile as she started the engine. With a slight wave of her hand she closed the door, shifted the car into gear and pulled off, Malcom staring after her until she disappeared out of sight.

Malcolm laughed heartily as he danced a two-step, his exuberance wafting through the air. He stole a quick glance to his wristwatch as he moved to his own vehicle. He was ready to get home to bed. Excited that morning coffee and seeing Cilla again was mere hours away.

Chapter Four

It was lunchtime and the summer sun was shining full and bright in the bluest of skies. The city sidewalk was bustling with people walking from point A to point B, everyone enjoying the warm temperatures as they took their lunch hour. Directly in front of the nightclub a line of traffic was at a standstill, waiting for the traffic light at the corner to shift from red to green.

Malcolm used his key to enter the brick building. Inside he stole a quick glance around the space, confirming that there was only one other person inside. Romeo stood behind the bar checking the inventory as he prepared them for the evening's festivities. His friend waved in his direction.

“Malcolm!”

“Hey, Rome!”

“How's it hangin'?”

“Straight as an arrow!”

“I hate to hear that. I had my fingers crossed that you might get you some last night. Get you out of that bad mood you've been in!”

Malcolm laughed. “You got jokes!”

Romeo held up both hands, the gesture as if he were surrendering. “What can I say?”

The two men laughed easily together.

Romeo gestured to a stack of manila folders that sat on the edge of the countertop. “That's the paperwork,” he said, Malcolm understanding the reference.

Malcolm reached for the files and moved to one of the tables. He sat down as he flipped through the documents, pausing once and then a second time as he stopped to read the details. “What did the lawyer say?” he questioned, dropping the files back to the wood surface.

Romeo moved to where he sat and took the seat across from him. “He said it's a good deal. Both sides gave up some things and gained some things but bottom line, once we sign and write them a check, this building and the two next door will officially be ours. We'll collect rent instead of paying it and we get to fix all of the headaches by ourselves.”

Malcolm nodded. “And you feel good about the deal?”

“Don't you?”

“I'm good if you're good.”

“Then congratulations. Tomorrow, Marshall and Cobb Investments becomes a reality and we will officially own a piece of downtown real estate.”

“We'll own three pieces of downtown real estate.”

Romeo nodded. “Are you still thinking about expanding the architectural firm and opening up an office here?”

“I think so. If the flower shop doesn't renew their lease and they leave I think I will be our first official
new
tenant. It just makes sense right now.”

“Hey, I hear you and you know I'll support you however I can.”

“How are Taryn and the baby doing?” Malcolm asked, changing the subject.

Romeo grinned. “Little man is
walking!
And I mean, high-stepping, kicking-butt walking!”

“Now the trouble starts! JB will be getting into everything now.”

“Who are you telling? Taryn and I don't do anything but run behind him trying to keep up.”

Malcolm's smile was wide. “God, I miss those days! They grow up too fast. Before you know it he'll be whining about getting his driver's license, talking back and working your last nerve! At least you won't have to worry about him wearing clothes that are too tight and too short like I have to with my girls!”

Romeo laughed. “That sounds like you're having some issues!”

Malcolm laughed with him. “Teenage daughters. I'm beginning to fully understand the rationale behind putting them in a chastity belt and locking them away.”

“My goddaughters have always been perfect angels.”

“Well, perfect and angelic have been long gone. They're trying me. Especially Cleo. It's become a daily battle with that one.”

“Well, I'm sure your mother's keeping them in line.”

“Mama's getting old. She can't beat them like she used to,” Malcolm said teasingly.

Romeo chuckled. “Well, if you ever need a hand you can always borrow Taryn. My wife does not play!”

Malcolm shook his head. “Don't be surprised if I take you up on that offer.”

Romeo nodded. “So, really, how was your date last night? I'm thinking she must be pretty special for you to cut your trip short just to take a woman to dinner.”

“Her name's Cilla. Priscilla Jameson. And she is special. We had a great time last night! And we spent some time together this morning having coffee.”

For a brief moment Malcolm drifted off into thought. He and Cilla had closed down the restaurant last night, exiting out the back with the chef and the owner. They had talked for hours. Malcolm had shared stories about his past, his daughters, and his businesses. Cilla had talked about her family, her job, her past relationships, and her hobbies. She knew everything about his relationship with his ex-wife and his stint in prison. He knew that her greatest fear was being a disappointment to her parents and that she one day hoped to own her own quilt business. She'd been excited to talk about her dreams for her future and he had shared his. The time had been illuminating for them both, discovering that they could be so open and feel so comfortable with each other. The memory of their time together brought a smile to Malcolm's face. His head bobbed up and down as he shook away the chill that had ripped up his spine.

Romeo had been watching him intently. He suddenly broke out in a deep guffaw and he howled for a good few minutes until tears ran from his eyes. He finally caught his breath as he swiped the back of his hand across his face. “Well, I'll be damned! That woman has you seriously twisted! Maybe we should get you to a doctor to get you checked.”

Malcolm's head waved from side to side, his grin like a canyon across his face. “You don't know what you're talking about.”

Romeo was still chuckling. “You've got it bad! I can see it all over you. That woman has you wide open!”

Malcolm rolled his eyes as the two men continued to banter and joke back and forth. As he pondered his best friend's comment, he couldn't help but think Romeo was right.

 

 

“So, let me get this right,” Bianca said, amusement in her tone. “Now, you're dating an alcoholic convict?”

“He's a
recovered
alcoholic and a
former
convict,” Cilla said, emphasizing the past tense.

“And you really believe there's a difference?”

“I believe he's a man who has changed his life around. He's a successful businessman running two high-profile companies, as well as starting a third. He's a pillar of the community, active in his church, is highly regarded by his friends, and anyone you talk to only has good things to say about him.”

“Did you talk to his ex-wife?”

“I don't need to talk to his ex-wife.”

“I'm just saying. She might not have good things to say about him and you may well want to hear what those things are. You don't know if he's told you about all his demons. There might be some dirt that you need to know about.”

“I trust that Malcolm has told me everything I need to know.”

Bianca shook her head. “And the brother has kids! Don't you know kids are the kiss of death for a new relationship? Especially girls. I made a point of not dating any man who had daughters that were walking and talking.”

“He says his girls are very good.”

“All men say their girls are good and that's because when they're with their daddies they're always on their best behavior trying to weasel cash out of his wallet. Ask me how I know. I was always good with my daddy. And if he and my mother hadn't been married since forever things would have been very different for any tramp he tried to date.”

“You would have been difficult for no reason, Bianca. Besides, I am
not
a tramp.”

“Trust me, you are to his daughters.”

“I am not! Besides, they don't even know me yet.”

Bianca chuckled. “I can't wait for us to revisit this conversation in six months!” she exclaimed. “Then tell me what wonderful girls they are.”

Cilla rolled her eyes. “Are you ready yet?”

Bianca checked her makeup one last time, spinning in a circle in front of her full-length mirror. “I've been ready. Let's go check out your new badass boyfriend! See if he gets my seal of approval or not.”

“If you embarrass me in front of Malcolm I will hurt you,” Cilla said as she cut an eye toward her best friend.

Bianca laughed warmly. “Would I do something like that?”

A half hour later the two women entered The Playground. There was a nice crowd gathered and it was still early in the evening. As Cilla stepped into the club her eyes skated back and forth until they adjusted to the dim lights. She came to an abrupt stop when she spied Malcolm standing behind the bar.

As he spun bottles from one hand to the other he looked very much like a star mixologist. He was relaxed and comfortable, performing his own personal dance as he entertained his clients. Seeing him brought a full grin to Cilla's face.

Bianca gave her a not-so-gentle nudge, almost pushing her over as she shoved her in the shoulder. “Can you be more obvious,” her friend said, giggling loudly. “You really aren't doing a good job of playing hard to get.”

“Who says I want to play hard to get?” Cilla quipped.

Both women laughed heartily. They made their way to an empty table in a corner, Cilla continuing to steal glances at the man as she hoped to catch his eye. They'd only been sitting a few minutes when the waitress made her way over to take their drink orders.

“Hey, y'all. My name's Odetta,” she chimed, one hand resting on her wide hip. “What can I do you for tonight?” She chewed a large wad of chewing gum, snapping it loudly between her lips.

“I'll have a white Russian,” Bianca said. “And my friend here wants a Sex on the Beach from that guy,” she said, pointing directly at Malcolm.

As the other two women both turned their heads at the same time, staring in Malcolm's direction, he suddenly looked up from the drink he was pouring, meeting their stares. His wide grin pulled full as recognition registered on his dark face. He waved a slight hand toward them, suddenly looking like a ten-year-old with his first crush. Cilla's eyes widened as her own smile burst brightly.

Odetta looked from Malcolm to Cilla and back again, once and then a second time. “What am I missing?” Odetta questioned, her gaze skating back and forth between them. “Why is my boss looking at you like you're the last biscuit on the platter and he's got the only gravy in the room?”

Bianca laughed. “I'm Bianca and this is Cilla, your boss's new boo.”

Cilla's mouth dropped open in surprise. “Bianca! I told you about embarrassing me tonight,” she exclaimed, her eyes wide. She turned her gaze on Odetta. “I'm not his
boo
. Malcolm and I are just friends.”

“Well, it looks like you're his something,” Odetta said. “How long have you two known each other?” she questioned, her eyes narrowing in query.

Cilla felt her face flush red with color. “Not long. Not long at all. We're just friends!”

“Humph,” Odetta grunted, flashing Malcolm another look. “Is that right?”

Across the way Malcolm was rushing to fill his drink orders. Odetta still standing at Cilla's table was beginning to make him nervous. The woman suddenly turned, moving in his direction. Before she reached the bar she stopped to whisper something to Romeo who was standing room center in conversation with another waitress and the club's featured performer. The trio turned to stare where Odetta had gestured, then back at Malcolm who suddenly looked nauseous. Cilla looked uneasy as well, her anxiety rising at the sudden attention. Bianca found it all too funny as she laughed hysterically.

Back at the bar Malcolm was shaking his head at Odetta. “Really, Odetta?”

“What?”

“You know what.”

“Obviously I don't know anything. Like I didn't know you had a new girlfriend. So I don't know anything at all.” She gave him the stink eye, her head lowered just so, her gaze nothing but thin slits and her mouth puckered in a full pout.

“We're just . . . we . . .” he stammered, then stopped, realizing there was no point in trying to explain himself so he didn't. He gave her a look and Odetta laughed.

“What are they drinking?” he asked instead.

Odetta recited the order verbatim. “But if you ask me,” she added, “I think the sex on the beach she wants doesn't come in a glass, if you get my drift.”

Malcolm blushed profusely. “I really don't need commentary from the peanut gallery,” he said as he poured booze into two glasses.

He gestured toward Frank, the new bartender, to take the bar. “I'll deliver these,” he said as he pointed Odetta toward the opposite direction.

“I just bet you will,” she said with another deep chuckle.

As her laughter echoed behind him Malcolm took a deep breath and then another. His smile returned to his face as he moved toward Cilla. He could feel his friends watching him intently, eyes following him across the room. He and Romeo shared a quick glance as his best friend gave him a thumbs-up. He suddenly felt nervous, perspiration breaking out across his brow.

“Hi,” he said, his eyes meeting the stare Bianca was giving him.

He didn't wait for the woman to respond, his gaze shifting toward Cilla who was grinning at him. “Hey, you,” he said, his voice dropping to a loud whisper.

Cilla nodded her head in greeting as she suddenly burst out laughing. Malcolm couldn't stop himself from laughing with her. The tension lifted instantly, feeling like a burst balloon deflating. He pressed a warm palm to her bare shoulder as he eased his body into the seat beside her and sat down. His touch was electric and it felt like a bolt of current was shooting through every one of her nerve endings. Cilla pressed her knees tight together to stall the quiver that suddenly pierced her. She shuddered ever so slightly as Malcolm gently kneaded the flesh beneath his hand.