Читать книгу Every Beat Of My Heart - Kianna Alexander - Страница 13

Chapter 4

By Monday morning, Lina had managed to push most of her annoyance at Rashad aside, in favor of working on a new case. He hadn’t contacted her over the weekend, and she was glad. She was about to embark on a new phase in her career as an attorney, and the last thing she needed right now was to be distracted. Rashad MacRae was about the biggest distraction she’d ever encountered.

She shifted through the case files on her desk, looking for a particular piece of paperwork she needed to get started on her research. After a few moments of flipping through the pile, she realized she wasn’t getting anywhere. She pressed a button on her intercom system and asked her legal assistant to come in.

Randi Mayer entered a few moments later, the long strap of an attaché case slung over her shoulder. She was professionally dressed as usual, wearing a soft blue button-down shirt with a pair of navy blue boot-cut slacks. She also wore a pair of navy pumps with heels so high Lina wondered how she kept from twisting her ankles with every step. The young woman, a recent graduate of Duke Law, was extremely efficient at her job. If anybody could find what Lina needed, it was Randi.

“Are you looking for the Needleman files?” Randi asked the question as she crossed the room toward Lina’s desk.

Lina rubbed a hand over her forehead. “Yes. Do you know where they are?”

Randi extended a manila folder. “Here they are. I took them yesterday afternoon, typed them up and made copies. I should have told you, but by the time I finished, you’d already gone home for the day. Sorry about that.”

Relief caused Lina’s breath to escape in a long sigh. “Thanks, Randi.” Now that she had the files in her possession, she could get on with the rest of her day. As she flipped through the neatly typewritten pages, she thanked her lucky stars for such an efficient assistant.

“Do you need me for anything else?” Randi stood by the desk, waiting.

Knowing how tiresome it must be to stand in one place in those sky-high heels, Lina gestured to one of the two empty chairs on that side of the desk. “Yes. Go ahead and have a seat. With any luck, we can finish up our pretrial preparation before the day is out.”

Randi sat, pulling out a yellow legal pad and pen from her case. She crossed her legs and grasped the pen. “Okay, Ms. Smith-Todd, I’m ready.”

Opening the case file to the first page, Lina began dictating. “Case file for case number 26008, Howard Needleman versus Dewey and Fowler Incorporated.”

Lina then began to speak about the particulars of the case while Randi transcribed. Howard Needleman claimed to have been unfairly targeted by his new boss. Mr. Needleman insisted that his new superior, Kate Miller, was a female chauvinist who’d placed him on probation for no other reason than to threaten his job. At first, Lina had thought the case far-fetched, but Mr. Needleman and a few of the other men working in his office had presented her with compelling evidence to support his claims.

While Howard remained the only named plaintiff, four other men working in middle management within Dewey and Fowler all had similar stories. Two had been placed on the same kind of employment probation as Howard, and the other two spoke of several negative encounters with Mrs. Miller. One man had even taken it upon himself to use his smartphone to record audio of one of Mrs. Miller’s tirades. The Needleman case was, by far, the most interesting one she’d ever been tasked with.

As lunchtime approached, Lina’s bleary eyes and growling stomach made her close the case file. “Let’s take lunch, I’m starved.”

Randi ceased her writing and put away her pad and pen. “See you back here in forty-five?”

Lina smiled. “Tell you what. We’ve both worked so hard this morning, let’s make it an even hour.”

With a giggle and a wave, Randi left the office, closing the door behind her.

Pulling a tissue from the box sitting on her desk, Lina dabbed at her tired, watery eyes, careful not to disturb her eye makeup. She frequently ordered lunch from the deli a few doors down from the firm. They had great sandwiches and their proximity meant her lunch was always delivered in twenty minutes or less. Today, though, she’d been sitting in one place for so long she decided to walk down there and pick up her lunch herself, hoping the physical activity and fresh air would give her a second wind.

A few minutes later, she was strolling along Morehead Street, enjoying the early summer sunshine. The kelly green sleeveless sheath she wore was perfect for the weather, leaving her arms and legs exposed to keep her from overheating in the warm, slightly humid air. She’d left her cream-colored cardigan in the office—while she needed it to fight off the chill of the air-conditioning inside, she certainly didn’t need it out here.

As she grabbed the door handle of Rhino Market and Deli, the vibration of her cell phone in her purse caught her attention. She swung the door open and stepped into the cool interior of the deli, and then fished the phone out of her bag.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Lina.”

She pursed her lips, having recognized Rashad’s voice right away. Chastising herself for answering without looking at the screen to see who was calling her, she replied tersely, “Yes, Rashad?”

“You don’t sound happy to hear from me. Are you working through your lunch break?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, but that doesn’t mean I have time to talk to you.”

“Ouch. I know you’re mad, and I’m sorry if you were offended the other night.”

She went to the red plastic roll dispensing numbers and pulled one, noting how Rashad had succeeded at placing the blame for what happened squarely on her shoulders. “Well, you know how crazy and unreasonable we women can be.”

He was silent for a moment, as if carefully choosing his next words. “Lina, you’re not going to scare me off by being snappy. There’s something special between us, and we both know it.”

She eased into the line. There were only two people ahead of her, and she didn’t want to get into this with him now. “I guess you know about all the auctions at Cleveland and Wendell being postponed.”

The sound of his deep chuckle reverberated in her ear. “Yes I know about it, and I know you’re trying to change the subject.”

She let her eyes sweep over the menu board, even though she already knew what she planned to order. “I’m not talking to you about this right now, Rashad.”

“I’m fine with that. Let me take you out to dinner tonight, and we’ll iron it out then.”

The line moved as the first person in front of her left with their food. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope.”

She closed her eyes briefly. Rashad was a charmer, always had been. It only took one night of watching him flirt with the female fans at a Gents show to see that. His ego told him that no woman could resist him, and while she’d love to take him down a peg, the truth of the matter was she couldn’t resist him, either. “What time are you picking me up?”

“Seven thirty. Thank you for agreeing, Lina.”

“You didn’t give me much choice.”

He chuckled again. “I’ll see you tonight.”

She disconnected the call just as her number came up. Shaking her head, she tucked the phone away and ordered her usual, a ham and Swiss wrap and baked chips.

With her food and a bottle of water, she left the deli for the walk back to her office. With every step, the dreadlocked hotness that was Rashad MacRae dominated her thoughts.

* * *

Rashad slowed his truck, his speed dropping below the twenty-five-mile-per-hour speed limit, as he neared Lina’s house on a quiet residential street. Her house was in the west Charlotte neighborhood of Wilmore. The area, located several miles from the hustle and bustle of the city center, was known for being diverse, family friendly and filled with eclectic charm. He rarely ventured to this neighborhood, preferring to live closer to the action and to his work in the city. Though, for someone as focused as Lina, he could see the appeal of living there.

He eased into a spot directly in front of her house. The large ranch-style structure had soft yellow siding, with multicolored stone surrounding the pitched roof at the doorway. The neatly trimmed yard was free of flowers, but there were a few bushes bordering the front of the house. To his mind, the home was very much reflective of the owner: beautiful and appealing, without any extraneous enhancements.

He got out of his truck, straightening his tie as he walked toward the door. He’d chosen to put on one of his best gray suits, minus the sport coat to keep him from bursting into flames in the Carolina summer heat. He hoped she’d approve of the charcoal-colored slacks, lavender button-down shirt, and purple-and-silver-striped tie he’d worn with his favorite gray-and-black wing tips. Sticking to the sidewalk to avoid trampling her grass, he made his way up to the house.

He raised his fist, gave a few sharp raps on the dark stained surface of her front door. Moments later, she swung it open.

As he took in the sight of her, he swore his heart skipped several beats. She was wearing a soft green sleeveless jumpsuit. He’d encountered these things before. He and the other guys in the band had jokingly referred to them as “adult onesies.” While he’d seen women wearing them on television and all over the Queen city, he’d never seen a woman who he thought looked good in one.

Until now.

The jumpsuit was made of a magical fabric that clung to every peak and valley of Lina’s curvaceous body. The low cut V-neck in the front gave him a glimpse of her cleavage. Figure-grazing fabric embraced her flat stomach and her round hips and thighs, and then flared out into a wide leg over her gold pumps.

“Hi, Rashad.”

Her voice snapped him out of his trance, and he realized he’d better stop ogling her so openly. His gaze drifted up to her face, taking in the barely there makeup and perfectly coiffed hair. “Lina. You look fantastic.”

Her sparkling raspberry lips tilted up into a smile, then parted. “Thank you. I could tell you liked the outfit by the look on your face.”

He smiled. What could he say to that? She’d caught him staring, and he couldn’t say he was sorry. She looked too damn good not to stare at. The reality was, she looked good enough to eat. He’d had the honor of tasting her before, and as his appreciative eyes raked over her once more, he hoped he’d have the honor again.

She turned away from him to lock her front door.

His eyes landed on the curvy roundness of her ass, and he shut his eyes briefly as the blood filled his manhood.

She faced him again, tossed her keys into her small handbag. “Ready?”

Oh, he was ready, all right, but in a totally different sense than she meant. Deciding to keep the thought to himself, he grasped her hand and led her to his truck. Once they were settled inside the cab and buckled in, he started the engine and pulled away from the curb.

The enclosed space of the truck’s cab subjected him to the sweet, floral aroma of her perfume. Her fragrance was so feminine and intoxicating he had to take shallower breaths to keep his focus on driving. He considered turning off the air conditioner and opening the windows, but it was too muggy a night for that. She didn’t say much in the car, seeming content to entertain her own thoughts while she watched the passing scenery through the passenger window. Picking up on her cues, he didn’t press her to converse. There would be plenty of time for that over dinner.

Once he eased the truck into a space at the Black Rose Inn, he cut the engine and went around to her side to open the door for her. In the time it took him to round the truck’s front bumper, she’d already swung the passenger door open. She was of average height, but his super-duty pickup was high enough off the ground that she might have to make a small leap to get out. He reached his hand out just in time to help her step down from the running board. Linking arms with her he escorted her inside.

The interior of the Black Rose was quiet, in keeping with the romantic atmosphere. The walls, covered in black brocade wallpaper, were decorated with framed photographic images of various rose varieties. A plush beige carpet was emblazoned with hundreds of black roses, alternating with loose petals. The round tables were cloaked in white cloths, and due to the absence of music being piped in, the only sounds were the few muted conversations being carried on by the patrons.

At the black lacquer podium near the door, Rashad gave his last name to the tuxedoed maître d’, who lead them to a secluded table near a window. Once they were seated and alone, Rashad looked across the table at Lina. She had opened the menu. Her shiny pink lips flexed slightly as she silently evaluated the choices.

He could watch her all night, but decided to try to choose his meal before the waiter arrived.

When the white-coated waiter arrived, Lina ordered the citrus glazed salmon and a green salad. Rashad placed his order for the medallions of beef with herb potatoes and zucchini gratin. Rashad kept quiet until the waiter deposited their glasses of iced tea on the table and departed.

He locked eyes with the beautiful woman sitting across from him and asked the question he’d wanted to ask since he ran into her that night at Cleveland and Wendell. “Why do you really want Monk’s piano?”

Her perfectly arched left brow hitched up a few centimeters. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you really want it for your mother?”

She nodded, the kind of slow nod you gave someone when you didn’t think they were following you. “Yes, I really want it for my mother, I told you that.”

He chose to ignore the insult of her slow nod, and shrugged. “I was just asking. I’m sure you know how valuable the piano is. It could bring in a lot of money on the open market.”

She pursed her lips. “I don’t really care about that, I make good money as it is. When I said I wanted it for my mother, that’s exactly what I meant. Once she has it, she can do whatever she wants with it. But she’s much too big a fan of Monk’s to sell it.”

Now he gave a slow nod of his own. “All right, then.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What about you? How do I know you wouldn’t resell it if you won the bidding?”

He leaned back in his chair, struck a nonchalant pose. “We both know I would never let Monk’s piano go, not for any amount of money.”

She folded her arms over her chest. The gesture blocked his view of her cleavage, and he immediately felt deprived. “To be honest, Rashad, I don’t really know you that well at all.”

He knew that remark was meant to cut him. More than anything it irritated him. “Really, Lina? This again?”

Her expression was as blank and disinterested as he’d ever seen it. “Truth hurts.”

Before he could line up a response, the waiter returned with their meals. The man set the steaming hot plates before them and strolled away. Rashad looked across the table at Lina, who seemed to be completely focused on her salmon. To give her time to cool off, he started in on his own food.

When he’d finished the last bite of his dinner, he set his silverware down. She was still eating, but he couldn’t hold back what he needed to say to her any longer. “Lina, I’m sorry.”

She paused, a forkful of salad hanging in midair. Her golden eyes widened and her gaze locked with his. “What?”

“I said I’m sorry. For not being open enough with you when we dated, and for whatever I said or did to offend you after the fact. I’m sorry.” Getting the words out was unpleasant to say the least, but certainly not any worse than the many days and nights he’d spent thinking about her since they parted ways. He’d tried everything short of apologizing to her up until this moment, and he still wasn’t positive he’d done anything wrong per se. Still, if this was what it was going to take to convince her that their relationship deserved another try, then so be it.

She blinked a few times, setting her fork down. Her expression serious, she asked, “Do you mean that, Rashad?”

He nodded. “Yes. I know I’ll have to work to win you all over again, but believe me, I’m willing.”

Her expression softened into a Mona Lisa–like smile. “Then we’d better go somewhere more private to talk.”

He grinned, not needing to be told twice. He’d finally penetrated her rigid exterior, and he planned to make the best use of his newfound access. Raising his hand, he signaled for the waiter to bring the check.