much a
woman that she’s got you in a headlock? I can’t see a woman putting
me in that position. I’m not ready to be tangled up like
that.”
“ Suit yourself. Have a
crummy day, big brother,” Malcolm barked, laughing and ended the
call. He was happy he didn’t build barriers like Parke. Picking up
another file scheduled for an audit, Malcolm hoped he could crunch
the numbers on three companies’ records before noon so he could
surprise Hallison. They worked about ten blocks apart, and met for
lunch when they could get away.
Hours later, Malcolm walked out the
automatic doors from his office in the Metropolitan Square Building
downtown without a care in the world. All was good, and according
to the three sistahs in the elevator he had stepped out from
moments ago, he looked delicious. One cooed, another whispered, one
boldly complimented him on his intoxicating cologne. Malcolm
appreciated the kudos, but ignored their overtures. Like his
brother, he enjoyed the attention of beautiful women, but only one
set his soul on fire.
At one-minute after one in the
afternoon, Malcolm entered the revolving doors to the Bank of
America lobby. He scanned the wall for the building directory. With
his finger he line-read the names until he found
Personnel.
On the same floor to his right,
Malcolm smoothed his paisley print tie against his shirt as he
walked down a short hall and opened a glass door. Suspenders
complimented his smoke-gray pleated pants. His worn, but polished
shoes squeaked on the tiled floor.
One side of the office housed a row of
computers. A few applicants glanced up. When Malcolm removed his
sunglasses, a few women ogled him. Hallison said his glasses made
him look sexy, rugged, and dangerously appealing.
He approached a large executive-style
desk that seemed to separate the ‘common’ area from the private
offices. A dark-skinned woman with fashionable glasses and a head
full of twisted curls glanced up. She dropped her pen. Staring, she
caught her breath.
To keep from disturbing the job
applicants, Malcolm leaned forward and whispered, “Is Hallison
Dinkins in?”
The receptionist gave him a milk-white
smile. “Your name, please, sir?” She scanned an appointment
book.
Stuffing both hands in his pockets, he
cocked his head to the left. “Malcolm Jamieson, Miss Dinkins’
personal Certified Public Accountant.”
An odd expression masked her face. She
pushed back from her desk, stood and locked her desk. Without a
word, she turned and her shoes began a two-tap rhythm across the
room. She didn’t instruct Malcolm to wait, so he
followed.
Unlike the common area, a maroon thick
carpet arrested her noisy heels. The woman stopped at a closed door
where Director of Human Resources was centered on a distorted
portrait-size glass window.
Malcolm was impressed. At least he
knew his baby worked in a nice environment. He hoped she liked
surprises. Knocking, the receptionist stuck her head in the office
and then waved Malcolm forward, aware that he had trailed
her.
Entering Hallison’s domain, Malcolm’s
eyes were transfixed on Hallison’s blossoming smile. “Roomy place,”
slipped from his mouth, but he would get a better look around
later. “I was hoping I’d get this reaction.” Strolling to her desk,
Malcolm leaned over and took her lips in a slow kiss before
whispering, “Hi.”
She pulled away, gulping for air. “Hi,
back. What are you doing here?”
Aware of his seduction, Malcolm pecked
soft kisses on her lips. “Oh, convincing my lady to have lunch with
me.”
“ Hmm,” Hallison moaned,
lifting an eyebrow. “I don’t know.”
“ Uh-huh, we have to
celebrate,” he teased, meeting Hallison’s questioning eyes, “our
four incredible months together. The future looks pretty good to me
right now.”
Hallison blushed and rubbed her nose
against his. “And, I’ve enjoyed every moment. About lunch, I may
need more convin—”
Malcolm’s response was an urgent,
demanding kiss