The Brute & The Blogger (4 page)

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he didn’t know what it was about him that made her react as she did. He was trying and she was fighting him all the way. He went to Jeremy’s office to ask how his time with Ebony went, “Okay I guess.  She nearly jumped out of her skin when I stood up to get a pen, but other than that, I guess it went okay.”

“She is a tough one,” Tino confided in his longtime friend.

“Yeah, I would have fired her two years ago,” he told Tino with all sincerity.

Tino shook his head, “it is a double edged sword.  She generates publicity for us, whether she wants to or not.”

“But she has also costs us money.  For that reason alone, I don’t care for the woman.”

“If I fire her, it will cost me more,” Tino confessed.

“So is this little ploy to make her quit?”

“No.  That’s the last thing I want,” he said as he left the office to head to the back.

“Well, what is it you want?”

He didn’t answer Jeremy but headed towards to the break room to find his lunch as he mulled through the lopsided reasoning in his head.  Initially, the house flipping was a high for him.  He bought, fixed up, sold the property and a family was ecstatic. The delight in doing his job had become joyless. The only thing that brought him any interest as of late, what the stimulating banter with Ebony. Being in her apartment and the back and forth word jest between them was so refreshingly engaging that he wanted more of it. The women he dated were dullards, more interested in shopping than being a part of something larger.

The ones who wanted to be a part of something larger either wanted to do so as his wife or take over his business. Ebony wanted none of that.  She also wanted none of him.  He liked it. He liked it a great deal.  If he was going to get her on his side, he would have to earn her trust.
That’s it!  It is the challenge
. Ebony Miller was a challenge to and for him.

He looked around to see where she had gotten off to, and spotted her walking across the bay. She was not paying attention to where she was going. Yet again she was wearing a pair of ridiculous shoes, a really cute dress, and about to be run over by a forklift.  Tino took off running at top speed, hoping to get to her before the forklift loaded with pallets crashed down on her head. A head that was locked in on her tablet screen.  Someone shouted at her.

Startled, Ebony turned, twisted her ankle, and was going down fast.  Tino reached her in time to keep her from falling over the edge of the loading dock. His timeliness was able to save her, but not the tablet or the pair of shoes she wore either.

He held her close in his arms, his heart thudding in his chest. “You are rather accident prone aren’t you?”

Ebony held on around his waist, his shirt again balled up in his hands. She tried to test to see if her ankle could hold any weight, “Either that or you are my bad luck charm.” She groaned as the last word came out of her mouth.  “I’m sorry, you saved me twice,” she said in a low voice.

“And this is twice you have ended up in my arms,” he whispered in her ear when he felt her body relax against his.

Realizing the compromising stance they held, she stepped back, but could not maintain her footing.  Tino caught her again, pulling her back into his arms, “Let me help you Ebony.”

“I don’t want your help,” she whispered as her hands slipped from around his waist.

“You may not have a choice,” he said as his large hands held her by the arms. She felt good against his body.  The smell of her soap was filling his nostrils and sending his mind careening in the wrong direction.

“I always have a choice Mr. Boehner,” she told him as she pulled away from him, slower this time, and began to hobble in the direction of the offices.

“Today, you don’t,” he told her as he scooped her into his arms and carried her like a small child.  He yelled for someone to bring ice for her ankle.  She didn’t want to, but Ebony leaned her head against his shoulder enjoying the power of his visceral strength. It was a tender moment until he dumped her in the chair like a sack of potatoes reminding her of a still sore backside.

She groaned from the impact, “See. This is why we can never see eye to eye Mr. Boehner. You do something thoughtful and your next move is to countermand it.”

“No, we can’t see eye to because you are always flapping your big dictionary around,” he told her.

“Maybe a girl appreciates a man with a big dictionary versus a little tiny tool that causes more irritation than stimulation,” she said it before she could stop herself.  Ebony placed her hand over her mouth.

“You know what?  Fire me or I quit.  I can’t do this,” she told him as she tried to stand.

He used two fingers to push her back down in the chair, “and have you sue me?  Oh Hell no!”

The ice pack arrived and he tugged at her dress, pulling it down over her knees before he knelt in front of her to apply the ice.  Someone handed him two towels. The first he draped over her knees before lifting her ankle, the second he used to apply the cold compress.

Ebony asked, “Then what are we going to do?”

His gray eyes looked at her face, searching for an answer to her question. “I am trying here Ebony.  This is my olive branch.”  She said nothing as he continued to administer the cold compress. “I mean, do you really hate me that much?”

Hate was such a strong word choice, but in this case it was the perfect one. “I don’t hate anyone Mr. Boehner, least of all you.”

“Good.  You can start by calling me Tino,” he told her.  His hand was resting on her knee.  Something she did not let go unnoticed as she reached down and moved it.

“Olive branch accepted.  I will be amicable,” she told him.

He patted her leg and stood up, “this is good news.  You and I, relocating to new territory...investing in some neutral ground.”

It was easier said than done.  By the end of the day she wanted to relocate her life to another country.  Tino Boehner was invading her world.

T
he afternoon wasn’t much better than the morning as Ebony tried to meet with Montrice who was the company’s birddog. 

“What is that?”

“I search for houses about to go into foreclosure,” she told her.  Montrice was a statuesque, well-spoken young black woman. “If the property is in really good shape, I will contact the owner and see if we can work something out with them before the ink dries.”

Montrice explained that public records list the name and address of the person whose house is in foreclosure. As the birddog for Boehner Enterprises, she offers them the right of first refusal.  If Tino is not interested in buying the house, she brokers it to another company.

“I make money by receiving a referral fee for connecting the homeowner to a person who has the resources to clear up the mortgage arrears. This avoids the foreclosure proceeding and any fees attached to it. The person who buys the house can flip it or rent it back to the homeowner, either way earning a profit on the investment.”

Ebony was surprised when Montrice told her about the number of people and city officials who contact Tino to buy their land. “We get a call from officials in Detroit at least once a week,” she told her. She gave a face as if she had smelled something stinky, “Ain’t nobody going to Detroit.  I know I’m not.”

They chatted for a few minutes more and Ebony tried to stand but her ankle had ballooned and her right foot looked as if she had elephantiasis. “Oh, that does not look good,” Montrice told her as she left the office to find Tino.

The mayor had arrived with two commissioners who were in a heated debate the moment they came through the door.  Ebony wasted no time snapping pictures of the men who went straight to the model and began yelling at each other.  Tino walked by them, as if they weren’t there as he made a beeline to Ebony. He asked no questions as he lifted her into his arms and went to her makeshift office. “Grab your purse and belongings,” he told her as he left the building.

A quick nod to Jeremy to indicate the arrival of their VIPs, but right now, the one who was important to him was Ebony.

“Tino this isn’t necessary,” she told him as he lowered her to the ground so she could get into his car.  The snarky side of her wanted to ask why they didn’t drive his gift to her, but he answered first.

“I have my parent’s anniversary party tonight, so once I get you settled, I will head home to change,” he told her as he made his way to her building. “I think it is only a minor sprain, but if you want to go to the doctor, I can take you.”

“No, home is fine,” she told him as she gazed out the window.  The cologne he wore was subtle with woody undertones.  He was a fine specimen of a man with classic Italian looks; dark hair that layered at the nape of his neck, gray eyes and a bit of hair under his bottom lip. He wasn’t her type, not only in skin tone, but in the way he lived.  No doubt, he was an accomplished man, but to her, he seemed like the guy who was all about the chase. Once he caught whatever he was after, he would lose interest.  Ebony felt vulnerable, like she was the latest rabbit.

W
ith some effort, Ebony made it to her front door.  Tino followed behind to make sure she didn’t need any assistance, but by the time she reached the landing, her pain was obvious.  He snatched the keys from her hand opened the door and hoisted her into his arms carrying her the remaining distance over the threshold and into the apartment.  “Where do you want to go...the couch or your bed?”

“The couch is fine,” she mumbled as she braced her body to be dumped like a sack of coal onto the sofa. Instead, he lowered himself along with her and deposited her gently on the couch.  The rest, was pretty much a blur to her. 

Ebony remembered him locking the front door and starting the kettle.  She remembered him going into her bedroom and bringing back two pillows that he used to prop up her ankle. Where it starts to get fuzzy is when he went to make the tea.

If there was a woman who was strong and self-sufficient, Ebony considered herself to be at the top of the list. Crying was not in her repertoire of how to handle adversity and change.  She always considered herself to be the woman to run up to the bull, tug on its nuts and slap his horns, all the while, giving it instructions on how to behave in public.  But this right here...was causing her to break down.  It began with a single tear that slid down her left cheek.  Then another sneaked out of her right eye and rolled down the other side of her face.  She tried to swat them away before he came back with the tea, but it was too late.  She was overcome with an embodiment of despair that ran up her leg, sat on her shoulder and began to whisper obscenities in her ear on all the ways karma was coming back to gnaw on her ass.

Tino rounded the corner. 
Oh look- the ass gnawer
.  This only made her cry harder. And after that, everything in her world changed. 

He sat down the cup of tea and took a good look at her. The man said nothing as he looked about for a box of tissues, and when he was unable to find any, he handed her a handkerchief from his back pocket. 
Who still carries a handkerchief
? He stood beside her for a moment, then somehow or other, lifted her to where she was sitting in his lap.  Her foot never came off the pillow.

Ebony leaned into his strength and cried.

She cried for the loss of her car.  She cried because a new one would mean a car note, which also meant a delay on buying herself a home. She cried because in a very dark hour, the man whom she made a living persecuting, was here at her side, comforting her.  His hand rubbed her thigh as he leaned back into the cushions of the couch, bearing her weight and letting her cry.

Several minutes later he was still quiet.  When her tears finally ceased and she cleaned her face, she shifted her weight in his lap and looked at him.  Tino’s eyes were closed as if he was enjoying the moment.  His long, dark lashes sweeping across his cheeks and Ebony wondered how such a serene look could equate to such a mischievous man.  But he was handsome.

His eyes opened and his hand came up to touch her cheek. Tino sat up as his face came close to hers.  Ebony didn’t pull away as his lips pressed against hers. Tino was kissing her.  Not wanting to be rude, she kissed him back. He sighed deeply as he nibbled on her bottom lip, causing her mouth to open slightly.  It was all the opening he needed as his tongue slipped inside her lips, searching, seeking out her own.  A soft groan came from him as he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, his tongue darting about her mouth.

“Ebony,” he whispered. “What are you doing?”

She was caught in the moment, her hands intertwined in his hair, tugging at the strands trying to pull him closer. “Kissing you back, what are you doing?”

“Trying to stop...but I can’t...” he said as he exhaled and deepened the kiss still.  His mouth slanted over hers again and again until finally, he pulled away.  He pulled her body to him as he leaned back on the couch, just holding her.

“Tino, what are we doing?”

His hand went back to stroking her thigh, “enjoying a truce.”

“I like this truce...” she told him as she relished the warmth of his embrace.

They both knew the moment of quietness, even as a respite, was not a good place for either of them to linger.  Both understood that when action junkies found something they liked, it was difficult to not go back for more.  Tino knew he would be back for another helping. Ebony was hoping he would.