This Time for Real (17 page)

“You've been miserable to work with lately,” Theresa replied. “Cheer up, ol' boy, the offices are finally done.”

“I am excited.” Malik sat up. “Can't you tell?”

“Sure.” Theresa laughed derisively as she turned back around to her task. She put several books onto his new built-in shelving units.

Malik knew exactly what Theresa was talking about. He'd come up with the not-so-brilliant plan of asking Sage to take over Peyton's mentoring session. He thought he'd made Sage feel sufficiently guilty for not giving enough back to the center, now that she was a successful attorney. Then last night, Sage called and said she'd been assigned to some big case, and it would require all of her attention.

So he and Peyton would continue to run into each other, it was unavoidable.

“Did you hear what I said?” Theresa asked.

“Huh?”

“I said several supermarkets have donated free turkeys. We should have about one hundred turkeys to give away.”

“That's great!” Malik gave Theresa a weak “Whoopee.”

Theresa glanced back at Malik,
now if only he meant
it.
Theresa would have to see about putting a smile back on Malik's face, and she knew just how to do it.

 

Peyton ran into Kendra at the community center on her way to her college preparatory meeting. “Kendra, what are you doing here?”

“I thought I'd finally start volunteering,” Kendra said. “Malik found me a part-time job at a bookstore up the street. So, between the job and government funds, I can finally pay for day care without any help from Omar.”

“Kendra, that's wonderful news.”

Peyton was thrilled for her student. She was glad everything was going right for someone besides herself.

“I can only volunteer one day a week, but it's a start.”

“Good for you.” Peyton patted her shoulder. “Have you heard from Omar?”

“Surprisingly, no,” Kendra replied. “Since he showed up at NYU, I haven't seen or heard a word from him. It was unlike Omar to at least not try and see his daughter.”

“I guess no news is good news.”

“That's how I'm looking at it, Dr. Sawyer. I'll see you in class.” Kendra waved goodbye and headed down the hall.

Peyton smiled as she walked towards the lounge. She couldn't recall a time when she'd seen the girl look happier. Perhaps her interference had helped after all.

 

The day of the turkey giveaway, Malik had a small tent erected outside of the center's playground area to allow residents of the community to come and get a free turkey. Everyone in the office would take turns standing outside in the thirty-degree weather. Theresa had the first shift and Malik would be relieving her. When he
arrived, she knew he was in a brooding mood. Luckily, Theresa had the cure for what ailed him.

Malik came towards Theresa carrying two steaming cups of hot chocolate. “Here you go.” He handed Theresa a cup.

“Why, thank you.” Theresa accepted the beverage. “You know, an old lady such as myself can't take these cold temperatures.”

“Oh, please,” Malik replied. “You're not old. You're going to go kicking and screaming to your grave.”

“Well, today I feel old. But I've brought reinforcements.” Theresa nodded towards the tent opening.

Malik turned around and found Peyton standing in the tent doorway. She was bundled up in a wool coat with a cashmere scarf wrapped around her neck, but that didn't mean that Malik had forgotten how sexy she looked underneath all those clothes.

Malik swung back around to face Theresa, but the little devil had already sneaked inside to the warmth of the center. He was going to strangle her.

“Hi,” Peyton said, and smiled when she approached. “I heard you needed help handing out turkeys.” Peyton unwrapped the scarf from around her neck. When Theresa called, Peyton had jumped at the chance. Malik needed to know that she knew the truth and wasn't going anywhere.

Malik sighed. “She really shouldn't have done that. The center staff could have taken care of it.”

Peyton shrugged. “Well, I'm here now.” She swept past him and came inside the tent.

Malik was about to comment, when several local residents came up for a free turkey. So he had no choice but to allow her to stay. But that didn't mean he wasn't uneasy standing beside Peyton. In the small quarters, he could smell the sweet scent of her perfume and it was
making him dizzy with longing. It reminded him of how good they were together, in and out of bed.
And how good we could be again,
an inner voice told him.

“Malik, can you hand me a turkey?” Peyton asked. She had a gentleman standing in front of her.

“I can't do this.” Malik fled form the tent and rushed inside the building.

Peyton smiled when he sent the center's business manager, Greg Burns, to cover for him. She'd gotten to him—which meant there was still hope that they could work things out.

After the cooler was bare and all the turkeys had been handed out, Greg and Peyton packed up the tent. When she was done, Peyton went inside to find Malik. It was time they finally had it out.

Before she could get a word in edgewise, Loretta pointed to the back. “He's in the kitchen with the contractor.”

“Thanks, Loretta.”

Peyton found Malik and another gentleman looking over the drawings. The remodeling of the kitchen had gone well. The new stainless-steel gas ranges, commercial refrigerators with swinging doors and double-decker ovens would feed quite a few people, Peyton knew. “I thought a light switch was included on that wall in the specs,” she heard Malik say.

“No. If you look here—” Logan pointed to the drawing “—it wasn't on the plans.”

“Can we add it?” Malik inquired.

“Sure,” Logan said, “I'll have the electrician back here tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Logan.” Malik glanced at the doorway and saw Peyton, but he ignored her and continued his conversation. “I sure do appreciate all the hard work you
and your men have put in to ensure we can open up the kitchen for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“It was my pleasure. You guys do good work here.” Logan nodded at Peyton on his way out.

“Malik, we need to talk,” Peyton said, walking towards him.

“There's nothing to talk about.” Malik turned his back on Peyton and started rolling up the construction drawings.

“Malik.” Peyton touched his shoulder. “I know the truth.”

Malik whirled around and stared at her. “And what do you
think
you know?”

Peyton was quiet for several moments. She'd come this far, she had to finish. “I know about Joe Johnson. I know what kind of man he is—and was to you and your mother. I know that he hurt you.”

Malik was dumbfounded as Peyton confirmed that she knew his deepest, darkest secret.
How did she find out? Who could have told her?
Malik ran his fingers through his dreads. Not many people knew that he'd been abused. He couldn't imagine that any one of his friends or even Andrew would have betrayed him.

“I'm sorry for what happened to you, Malik. I'm sorry that Joe took away your childhood from you. And I just want you to know that this information doesn't change the way I feel about you,” Peyton continued, even though Malik stood there staring at her with cold and unfathomable eyes. “What happened was horrible, criminal, Malik. You were just a child and couldn't protect yourself. I just wish you felt you could confide in me.”

“I couldn't!” Malik yelled. “I didn't want to talk about it. And I don't want to talk about it now. Why couldn't you have leave well enough alone?”

Suddenly unsure, her voice quavered. “I'm sorry. I was just trying to help.”

“Well, you're not. You should have left the past in the past.”

“That's bull, Malik,” Peyton responded. “The past has been staring you in the face for weeks. Don't you think you need to deal with it?”

“Who are you to tell me what I should do?”

“I'm the woman who loves you,” Peyton said passionately. Her eyes blazed with fire as they held his.

Malik was stunned by Peyton's declaration.

“You may not believe my love is here to stay,” Peyton replied, “because the one person who should have loved you unconditionally withheld her love. But I'm going to show you I'm different. I'm not going anywhere, Malik. I'm going to fight for us. I will not let your fear or the past get in the way, because I believe we have something special.” Peyton grabbed both sides of Malik's face.

Malik shook his head free and darted his eyes to avoid looking at Peyton. If he did, he might lose himself in her beautiful brown eyes. “You're wrong.”

“Believe me,” Peyton said, and reached up to pull Malik's head towards her. She pressed her mouth and body against his. The kiss was all softness and gentleness at first; but Malik couldn't resist the pull, and he invaded her mouth with his tongue.

Peyton's lips parted as he probed the recesses of her mouth. Her entire body came alive at his kiss. She could hear her breathing becoming uneven, feel her breasts rapidly rising and falling. She wanted him. Her hands moved restlessly across Malik's back and she clung to him, eager for more—and he supplied it. His tongue went deep into her mouth with one long hard thrust, as though he wanted to take her right then and there. There
was no other way to describe the way his nimble tongue penetrated her mouth so thoroughly, so completely.

While his tongue worked magic with her mouth, his hands caressed her face and tangled inside her hair, pulling her even closer to him. A ribbon of desire slowly coiled through Peyton and she forgot her surroundings until they both heard a sound.

“Ahem.” It was Logan, standing in the doorway. “Malik, when you have a minute, I'd like to talk to you up front.” Logan smiled knowingly before walking away.

Slowly, Malik released Peyton. “That shouldn't have happened.” He inhaled, forcing air into his lungs.

“Yes, it should have,” Peyton said, caressing his cheek. She just couldn't understand his resistance. “I have to go too. But know this, Malik Williams, it isn't over between us—not by a long shot.” Peyton sauntered out of the room leaving a shaken Malik in her wake.

“I
don't know what happened,” Malik told Dante and Quentin later that evening, when they all met up for a game of pool. “One minute, I'm furious with her because someone told her about Joe, and the next minute I'm kissing her like she's the last woman on earth, right in the middle of the kitchen. All because one of you fools—” Malik tossed a cue stick at Quentin “—let it slip.”

“Let
what
slip?” Dante asked.

“About Joe.”

“We,”
Quentin pointed to Dante and then to himself, “didn't tell Peyton anything about your past. We would never break your confidence.”

Malik stared at him in confusion. He'd already spoken with Andrew, who assured him he'd remained mum. “So, if it wasn't you guys and it wasn't Theresa, then who was…”

“Sage,” Dante and Quentin said in unison.

“She wouldn't.” Malik shook his head.

“She would if she thought it was in your best interest,” Quentin returned.

Malik threw the cue stick down on the table. “I'm going to strangle her.”

“What are you so mad about, anyway?” Dante asked. “The truth is out there. Now you and Peyton can move on.”

“Exactly,” Quentin concurred.

“What makes you think I want to move on with her?”

“Do you recall kissing her like she was the last woman on earth, even though you're upset with her?” Dante inquired.

“And you can't get her out of your mind, no matter how hard you try?” Quentin added. He recalled a similar feeling when he was falling for Avery. “You got drunk at Richard's the other night just because you missed her.”

Malik didn't answer.

“I rest my case,” Dante replied.

“Whose case I need to get on right now is Sage's,” Malik replied. “This time our little sister has gone too far.”

 

The next morning, Malik marched into Greenberg, Hanson, Waggoner and Associates to meet with Sage and give her a piece of his mind. He'd had all night to think, and the more he did, the angrier he got.

“Sage Anderson, please,” he asked the receptionist.

“Down the hall and to the left.” She pointed to the corridor.

“Thank you.” Sage's assistant was not at her desk, so he stormed right into her office unannounced.

Sage was sitting at her desk reading a brief, but as soon
as she saw who it was her face lit up. “Malik,” Sage said and smiled, then stood up. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

Malik glared at her as he closed the door behind him. “This isn't a social visit.”

“Oh, dear.” From the stormy look on Malik's face, she realized that he knew she'd spilled the beans to Peyton.

“Sage, I have a bone to pick with you,” Malik huffed. “What possessed you to tell Peyton about Joe? You had no right to tell her my personal business.”

“Someone had to,” Sage answered, and folded her arms across her chest. “You were going to let a woman like Peyton—who obviously cares a great deal about you—get away. I did the right thing and I'm not ashamed of it. I'd do anything for the people I love.”

“It wasn't your story to tell,” Malik retorted.

“Malik, I did this for you,” Sage replied. “You have to let go of the past and the anger. You should be embracing a future with Peyton, not running away from it.”

“You're one to talk, Sage. When was your last serious relationship?”

He had a point. Sage did shy away from relationships, but it wasn't because she didn't want one. She just didn't have the time. “This isn't about me. It's about you.” Sage pointed to Malik. “You need help. I think you should consider counseling, so you can resolve these issues.”

“How dare you!” Malik roared. “You know nothing about what I went through.”

“And why don't I, Malik?” Sage asked, coming towards him. “Dante, Quentin and I are the closest thing you have to family, and yet you've never really talked to us about what you went through.” Sage came forward and stroked his cheek. “Sure, you told us he hit you, but that little boy inside must still be in pain. You have to heal him before you'll ever really be whole.”

Malik pushed Sage's hand away. “Enough with the psychobabble, Sage. You don't know what you're talking about.”

Sage knew she'd hit a nerve, because Malik was defensive. “If you came here looking for an apology,” Sage said as she smoothed down her skirt, “you're not going to get one. I did it because I was trying to help you, and I'd do it again.”

“Mind your own business, Sage, and stay out of my life.” Malik turned on his heel and stalked out of the office.

 

“Should I go and talk to him?” Peyton asked Amber that evening over the phone.

“He knows you know the truth. Maybe you should give him some time to process it.”

“But he needs me, Amber,” Peyton responded. “The man who abused him has suddenly risen from the ashes and has been harassing him.”

“And what are you going to do?” Amber inquired. “Fight off the big bad bully? Peyton, you have to allow him to deal with this in his own time.”

Peyton inhaled. “I know you're right, but I just feel so helpless.”

“There is nothing you can do. Malik most likely needs professional help to deal with the scars and I'm not talking about the physical ones that have since healed.”

“I will suggest therapy when I see him next at the center's grand re-opening.”

“So you're going?”

“Of course,” Peyton responded. “It's Malik's big night. All of the top brass from the CAN are going to be there, as well as the entire center's staff and volunteers. How can I not show?”

“All right. Once your mind is made up, nothing and
no one will talk you out of it. Just be prepared that he may not be willing to hear you right now.”

“That's a chance I'm willing to take,” Peyton replied. She had a feeling that Malik would be powerless to resist her in the flattering cocktail dress she'd purchased that hugged all the right places. After the party, Malik Williams was going to be putty in her hands.

 

The night of the official unveiling of the center's renovation, Malik stood back and looked at his handiwork. He and Theresa had been running around for the last two days making sure everything was perfect for tonight's festivities.

He'd barely had enough time to run home, shower and change into a formal black business suit with a tuxedo tie shirt, before he was due back.

“The center looks fantastic, Malik.” Andrew came up from behind him and smacked him on the back. The center looked modern and up-to-date. The computer room had all the latest technology and gadgets, from webcams to wireless mouses. Stainless-steel appliances replaced the old, worn-out stove, microwave and refrigerator in the kitchen, while the eating area had been enlarged by three times its normal size. They'd lost one of the three lounges, but could now feed more people during their weekly dinners. “You've done an amazing job.”

Malik shook his head. “I wish I could take all the credit, but I can't. A lot of people put a lot of time and effort into seeing this project completed within a short span of time.” He couldn't wait for the top brass from the Children's Aid Network, and several influential community leaders, to see the project.

“Doesn't matter.” Andrew shook his head. “I'm still proud of you, son.”

Malik grinned. “Thanks, Andrew.”

“So am I,” Theresa said, walking into the reception area. She too, had changed, and was now wearing a figure-flattering black gown, with a sheer satin shawl. “CAN is going to be very impressed with your leadership.”

Theresa had checked on the caterers who were putting the finishing touches on the festive Thanksgiving decorations and who were now bringing food to several stations strategically located throughout the gymnasium. They would be serving a variety of hot and cold hors d'oeuvres, sliced meats, champagne and petit fours for dessert. Everything was going according to plan.

“Greetings, my friend!” Quentin said when he and Avery walked in. “Andrew.” Quentin shook Malik's mentor's hand and kissed Theresa on the cheek. “You're looking as beautiful as ever.”

“Thank you, Q,” Theresa said, smiling.

Several minutes later, Dante and Sage arrived dressed in their finest evening attire. Dante looked around at the new paint, flooring and modern furniture. With his focus on the restaurant, he hadn't been by the center in a long time. “The place looks really great, Malik.”

“Sure does,” Avery replied.

“Couldn't have done it without you,” Malik said, then leaned forward and kissed Avery's cheek. Everyone looked great. The men were in suits and the ladies in cocktail dresses.

Avery touched her face. “Thanks, Malik.” She knew it wasn't easy for a man as proud as Malik to admit he needed help.

“Can I get in on the action?” Sage asked, coming towards Malik with her arms outstretched for a hug. “Or are you still mad at me?”

Malik glanced down at Sage. He knew she loved
him and only wanted the best for him. Malik found it hard to stay mad at her. “Of course you can,” he said, leaning down. He lifted Sage off the floor and enveloped her in a big hug.

“Put me down.” She swatted his arm.

“I love you too.” Malik kissed her forehead and lowered her to the floor.

“Why don't you all go to gymnasium?” Theresa asked, as several more guests started to arrive and fill up the small reception area. “The caterer is all set up and has some scrumptious food.”

“Now, this I have to see,” Dante replied. Malik had offered him the catering gig, but he had passed. He'd wanted to support Malik and enjoy the night, not cook.

As they all headed towards the gymnasium, Malik glanced towards the door. Although he'd broken up with her, Malik still hoped Peyton would show. They'd shared a passionate kiss the other day, and she'd said they weren't over.
After all his rejections, had she finally had enough of him?

 

Peyton glanced down at her watch. She was running late. She should have left an hour ago to get ready for the party, but she'd been caught by a student who was stressing over classes, and she had been asked to attend yet another departmental meeting.

It was late when Peyton finally left the building. She'd brought her car and paid for parking because she knew she'd need to get on the road quickly. She was nearly to the garage when she heard a noise behind her.

Peyton glanced over her shoulder and stared down the street, but didn't see anything. She had an uneasy feeling and picked up her pace so she could reach the
lighted confines of the parking garage. She waved at the attendant on duty before hopping on the elevator. The ride up to the third floor was interminable and Peyton glanced anxiously at the panel display. When the elevator rung for her floor, Peyton rushed out the door and bumped into someone. “I'm sorry,” she apologized, and then glanced up to find Kendra's boyfriend, Omar, staring down at her.

Peyton stepped backward. “What are you doing here, Omar?”

“It's time you and I finally got a few things straight, Professor.” Omar took a threatening step towards her.

Peyton's eyes darted around for help, but the garage was deserted. She looked for the nearest exit, but the door to the stairs was to the side of her. If she ran, he'd catch her easily. “
We
have nothing to get straight,” Peyton replied. She had to stand her ground. If he thought she was afraid of him, he'd move in for the kill. “This is between you and Kendra.”

Peyton moved forward but Omar blocked her path.

“You're the cause of all our troubles. From day one, you've been filling Kendra's head with this Miss Independent garbage, and now she's acting like she doesn't need me no more.”

Peyton stared Omar dead in the eye. “That's your issue, not mine. If you'll excuse me, I have someplace to be.”

When she went to walk past him, Omar grabbed Peyton by the arm and shoved her up against the wall. “Now, did I say you could leave?”

Peyton blinked several times as the pain of her head hitting the cement wall temporarily threw her off balance.

“You're going to rough me up like you do Kendra?” Peyton asked, holding her head as she forced herself from the wall. “I warn you, Omar, if you lay another hand
on me you'll end up in prison on assault charges, because I'm not like Kendra, I am not going to go away quietly.”

Omar lowered his fist. “You—” Omar shoved Peyton “—need to stay out of my business, because one day you may not be so lucky.” And with that warning, Omar took off towards the stairs.

Peyton heard the door close beside her as she sagged against the wall.