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Authors: Yahrah St. John

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BOOK: This Time for Real
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As he exited the train and walked back to the center, Malik removed his overcoat. Even though he looked good in them, he dreaded monkey suits. “Loretta,” he smiled at the receptionist when he came inside.

“Malik.” She smiled back at him. She couldn't resist thinking what a fine-looking young man he was.
My granddaughter could sure use a fellow like him, instead of that good-for-nothing she hung out with.

“Is Theresa in her office?”

“Yes, sir.”

Malik didn't bother knocking, and just stormed in. “You will not believe who the corporate mogul was that Q wanted me to meet.”

“Well excuse you,” Theresa huffed, placing her hand over the mouthpiece. “I am on the phone.”

“I'm sorry, Theresa,” Malik replied sheepishly, looking down. He mouthed the words “Come talk to me” and left the room.

Several minutes later, Theresa found Malik reclining in his chair and staring at the ceiling. “I take it the meeting did not go as you anticipated.”

“Worse,” Malik responded, sitting up. “Quentin and Avery had the nerve to set up a meeting with Richard King, of all people.”

Understanding dawned on Theresa. “Ah! And there's the rub.”

“What was he thinking?” Malik said. “Richard King! I swear, Quentin is led around by the nose.”

“The man is in love,” Theresa said.

“Yeah, well, love has fried his brain.”

“Please don't be upset with him.” Theresa pleaded Quentin's case. “I know he was only trying to help.”

“I'm not angry at him.” Malik tossed his head. “Being angry takes too much energy. We're just back to the drawing board.”

“Don't worry, Malik.” Theresa came forward and patted his shoulder. “Trust me, okay. This isn't the first time the center's been in need. Over the years, I've seen Andrew down and out like this, but believe you me, if there's a will, there's a way. I have faith in you.”

Malik gave a halfhearted smile.
Why couldn't he have had a mother like Theresa Harris?

 

“Is Malik here?” Peyton asked the receptionist later that afternoon in the community center lobby. She'd decided, spur-of-the-moment, after her last class let out at four to come by the center and ask for Malik's assistance with Kendra's situation. She was hoping he could share some insight or know of some programs that might help the young mother. She glanced at her watch, it was well past five, but she was hoping that Malik was as much of a workaholic as she.

“Let me check with his assistant,” Loretta replied. “Please have a seat.”

Peyton was about to sit down when the door flew open. “Hi, Peyton. What can I do for you?”

“Well…” Peyton was hoping to speak with Malik directly. Much to her own surprise, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. He radiated a vitality that drew her like a magnet. And now she was here at the center, hoping the sexy director with deliciously long dreads would join her for dinner to discuss Kendra's situation.

“Peyton?” Theresa noticed that the professor had a dreamy expression on her face. “You were saying?”

Peyton shook her head. “I was hoping Malik might give me some more information about day care and assistance for young mothers. Is he in?”

Theresa smiled knowingly. The professor had come in person to get information she could have researched on the Internet or gotten via the phone. Peyton Sawyer was definitely interested in Malik, and Theresa was going to stoke the flame. “Sure. Let me get him for you. He's just finishing up a phone call.”

Malik was completely caught off guard when Theresa told him that Peyton Sawyer was in the lobby waiting for him. He quickly checked his appearance in the mirror before coming out.

She stood when he arrived, allowing him to lazily appraise her toned athletic legs extending from her straight black skirt, which she'd accompanied with a black-and-white polka dot, silk shirt and a single strand of pearls. She looked like the cherry on top of a sundae and he wanted to gobble her up. “Peyton, it's good to see you.”

There was a tingle in the pit of her stomach as he said her name. “You too,” Peyton managed to say. His nearness was making her senses spin.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

Having Malik stare at her intensely with those dark brown eyes caused Peyton to get tongue-tied. “Well, I…I came to see if I couldn't tempt you with some sushi. As I recall, you know a great place.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Malik queried.

“It's not really a date,” Peyton lied. “I need your professional advice, and I just thought it might be easier to discuss over dinner.”

“Oh really?”

Malik grinned, and when he did Peyton could see he had dimples.
Why hadn't she noticed that before?
“Yes, really.”

“If you say so,” Malik replied. She'd come all this way
for him.
“But in answer to your question, yes, I would love to go out for sushi. Just let me get my jacket.”

“All right.” Peyton turned away as he left and tried to collect herself. Her heart was thumping so loudly in her chest; Peyton swore the receptionist could hear it.

Malik returned with his suit jacket over his arm. “Ready?”

“Yes.” Peyton didn't mind it one bit when Malik placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her out the door. She liked a man who took charge.

Malik hailed a cab with ease, and soon they were seated and on their way to Hatsuhana on Forty-eighth Street. When the host wanted to seat them at a table Peyton balked. “Can we sit at the bar?” She'd noticed two open seats in front of the chefs. “I love to watch the chef's showmanship.”

“Absolutely.” The host sat them at the bar.

Malik pulled out a bar stool and slid it underneath her before sitting next to her.

“Doesn't the fresh fish look great?” The displays housed fresh tuna, salmon, yellowtail, whitefish, shrimp
and a lot else Peyton didn't recognize, but she made polite conversation to avoid the elephant in the room.

“I'm flattered by your dinner offer.” Malik perused the menu, even though he already knew what he wanted. He always ordered the tuna and California rolls.

“I admit we got off to a shaky start, but this dinner really was about helping a student,” she said, glancing sideways at him.

“You don't need an excuse to ask me out.” Malik turned and faced her. “I like you, Peyton. And I'd like to know you even better. Don't you want the same?”

“I am not afraid of you, Malik, if that's what you're implying,” Peyton replied. “I'm just treading lightly.”

“Ah, there's more you're not saying,” Malik deduced, rubbing his jaw. When she tried to speak, he placed an index finger on her lips. “And you don't have to tell me. There's no pressure here, Peyton. When you're ready I'll listen.” Whatever she was holding back was big. Malik just hoped that in time she would feel like she could trust him. “So, what are you having?” he asked, changing the subject.

Her lips tingled from his touch. “Thank you.” Peyton smiled. “And I think I'll have the tempura-battered fish and veggies.” After they'd placed their order, Peyton brought up Kendra's situation. “My student is monetarily dependent upon her boyfriend, who resents that she's in school. Since I'm new to the area, I was hoping you might know of some assistance programs?”

“First off, she should start with the New York Department of Family Assistance and their OTDA department,” Malik said with authority.

“What does that stand for?”

“The Office of Temporary and Disability Assistance,” Malik informed her. “She can apply for food stamps and even go after child support if she wants.”

“What about financial assistance?” Peyton inquired.

“They can provide that too, under their temporary assistance program, for up to sixty months. So there's a lot of help out there, if she's willing to go after it.”

“Thank you so much, Malik.” Peyton patted his knee. “I'll be sure and pass the info on to my student.”

“You're welcome.” Malik placed his large hand over hers. When she didn't quickly move it away, Malik knew they'd crossed a bridge and he had a real shot at getting better acquainted. He liked that she was so caring and sympathetic to those less fortunate. It was rare that he found someone that shared his passion for helping others. He supposed that's why he was so attracted to Peyton because she was beautiful on the inside and out.

“What about you? How was your day?” Peyton asked. “It must be something big, with the suit and all. I didn't think that was really your style, though you do wear it well.” The suit fit his well-muscled body to perfection.

So she'd noticed, had she?
Malik grinned. “Thank you, and you would be right in your assumption. I had a lunch appointment, but it didn't go as I envisioned.”

“Why? What happened?” Peyton realized she sounded nosy, then added, “If you don't mind my asking.”

“I'm looking for a corporate sponsor for the center.”

“Is it in trouble?”

“No, but it could use some repair and renovation. Unfortunately, Children's Aid Network has to spread the funds around to so many centers that we don't always get what we need, when we need it. And today, I thought that would change. My friend Quentin, who you met the other night, set up a meeting with a potential corporate sponsor.”

“And?”

“It turned out to be the very same man who a few short months ago wanted to tear us down to build multimillion-
dollar condos and a mediaplex.” Malik released a deep breath.

Peyton stared as if waiting for a better explanation. “I'm sorry. And the problem is—?”

“He's the man that tried to destroy this community.”

“But if he's had a change of heart—” Peyton bunched her shoulders “—I don't see why not. So what if he sponsors the renovation to clear his guilty conscience? Either way, it's a win-win for him, as well as for the center. Don't you need the funds?”

“We do, but at what cost?” Malik asked. He had too much pride to accept a dime from Richard King.

“I guess only you can answer that,” Peyton replied. “But if you want my advice, such as it is, I say go for it. And if you need help, I'll be there in whatever capacity you need.”

Malik considered her words. He may have to rethink his position. Plus, Peyton was volunteering, even though she had no idea what that might entail. “Thanks, Peyton, I appreciate it. Now, can we stop talking shop?”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Their conversation turned to other topics, and when their food arrived they washed the succulent vegetables and fresh fish down with plum wine, leaving Peyton feeling languid and more relaxed than she'd felt in years. Whenever she was around Malik, he had that effect on her. He made her want to forget the past and embrace the present.

When she finally glanced at her watch, Peyton realized the hour. She had a 10 a.m. class that she needed to prepare for, but she didn't want the night to be over. “As much as I'd love to stay…” Peyton began.

“It's time we left,” Malik finished.

“Afraid so.”

Malik quickly settled the bill, much to Peyton's chagrin. She'd asked him out and was prepared to pay for the meal, but he'd refused.

“Thanks for the dinner,” Peyton said when the cab dropped her off in front of her Brooklyn brownstone a short while later.

“You're welcome,” Malik said, hopping out. “Keep the meter running,” he told the cab driver, and followed her up the steps to her door.

Peyton wasn't sure what to do. This was one of those awkward moments at the end of a date, so she said, “I had a lovely evening,” and leaned in for a hug and a quick peck, but Malik turned his head so that her kiss landed on his lips instead of cheek.

Peyton was stunned at first, she hadn't expected that, but she didn't protest, either. The caress of his lips on her mouth set her aflame with desire. And when Malik took it a step further and deepened the kiss, invading her mouth with his tongue, Peyton moaned.

As the kiss became more passionate, Malik folded Peyton in his arms and pulled her firmly to him. He loved the taste of her and the feel of her breasts against his chest. His pulse raced as his hands dipped and settled firmly on her hips. Malik felt the hardness in his pants press up against Peyton. Carried away by his own response, he didn't even notice Peyton resisting—until she had pushed him away.

“I'm sorry. I can't…” Peyton's voice caught in her throat as mixed feelings surged through her. “I can't do this.” Peyton opened her front door as fast as she could and bolted inside.

Malik was puzzled by the change in mood. What had he done wrong? Had he misread her response? He didn't think so. She'd kissed him back. He liked Peyton more
than any other woman he could remember, and hoped he hadn't ruined one of the best things to come his way in a long time.

BOOK: This Time for Real
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ads

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