Can't Stop Loving You (4 page)

T
he big day had finally arrived. Kaycee stayed up practically all night making sure that all of the cakes and candies turned out perfectly. She took very special care in her selections and decided on coconut cake to impress Mr. Thompson's taste buds and her famous red velvet cheesecake to win over La Jetta, as well as German chocolate cake, Italian cream cake and fresh peach cobbler. On top of that, she had made some chocolate-covered strawberries and truffles. Each dessert was neatly packaged in custom-made turquoise-blue-and-chocolate-brown boxes and tied with a shiny gold ribbon displaying the company name.

This time she was not going to get caught with cake on her face as she'd done the other night. Just remembering her failed meeting made her triple-check to ensure that everything was in order. Before she went to bed, she stocked her briefcase with the high-gloss, full-color catalog, order forms and business cards and placed it in the trunk of her car. She also took the time to make sure that her appearance spoke of class and professionalism. To keep with the color scheme, she chose to wear her chocolate-brown wrap dress with a turquoise-and-brown scarf tied around her neck and a pair of matching brown sandals.

For a change of pace, she worked some styling mousse into her hair, forming curly ringlets that framed her face. She smiled with satisfaction at the completed reflection in the mirror. After she loaded the car, she paused at the door to say a short prayer.

“Father God, I thank you for being the lord over my life. Thank you for ordering my steps. Lord, you told me that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. I believe that today you are opening up a door for me and I thank you in advance. Give me wisdom, oh Lord, to say the right things. Help me not to forget anything. Thank you for Your favor, in Jesus' name, amen.”

The ride to the café was a mere ten minutes, which was enough time for her to think. She thought about the business and how she was fulfilling her destiny. In less than a year, her life had taken a dramatic turn. First, she had left her job to pursue her business dream and then she had left Paul.

Her job had been monetarily rewarding but was so stressful that it left her drained at the end of the day. Her midtown condo was located in a very desirable neighborhood within walking distance of all the “hot” spots of dining and night life, but it wasn't something she enjoyed any longer.

Then there was her boyfriend Paul: she was practically on pins and needles waiting for him to propose, yet every birthday, Christmas and Valentine's Day passed without a word about the prospect of marriage. By the time last Christmas had rolled around, Kaycee had grown lukewarm to the idea of marriage, at least to Paul. So, when he got down on one knee during a jazz concert and proposed, she was tongue-tied. She could not say or do anything but shake her head no. It was at that precise moment that she knew the facade that she called her life was coming to an end and the real Kaycee Janae Jordan was coming to life.

Words of disappointment were expressed and tears shed when Kaycee admitted that she didn't have the heart to go on with their relationship. She spent most of that night evaluating her life and realized that there were many things that she didn't like but had given into because they had been expected of her.

Paul Copeland, for example, had stepped into Kaycee's personal space at a business event with a seductive smile, making her flush with flattery from his attention. Kaycee had told him that she was a recent MBA graduate looking for a job, and attended the event in the hopes of getting some leads. Without a word, Paul immediately took her by the hand, led her across the room and introduced her to Gina Stall-worth, who would become her future boss. A week later, she was at Carrington Financial Group.

Gradually, Kaycee found her appearance changing. Her hair was one of the first transformations. It was thick and coarse and came only to her ears so Paul suggested weaves. Although the long-layered style looked good and complemented her beautiful eyes, she hated finding stray hairs all over the house, especially in the shower drain and in corners on the bathroom floor.

Natural styles were frowned upon in the Carrington environment, especially for management. Her desire to emancipate came while she was out at lunch with other managers. The group was rattling on about a client. Kaycee was there in body, but she had abandoned them in spirit by choosing to focus her attention on their surroundings. Then it happened. A beautiful black woman entered the restaurant. She seemed the embodiment of poise and power as she strolled past as if walking on a catwalk in a fashion show. The fitted T-shirt, flare-legged jeans and big curly Afro spoke volumes to Kaycee. This was a proud sista' who wasn't stepping aside to measure up to the world's expectations, but who was demanding that the world step up to meet hers. After she paid for her takeout, she passed their table she smiled at Kaycee with a slight nod, and it was like confirmation that change would have to come. Downsizing quickly became a major focus in all areas of her life. She got rid of the man, quit her job, moved to the suburbs, took out her weaves and donated much of her pricey wardrobe to a welfare-to-work program. Now she was exactly where she wanted to be in life and she couldn't be happier.

 

Café Jireh was located in the growing section of midtown Atlanta called Atlantic Station, a popular live, work and play community made up of hotels, upscale boutiques and fine restaurants merged with expensive condos.

Kaycee was relieved to find an available parking space right out front. A quick glance at her watch told her that she was ten minutes ahead of schedule, so she had time to relax and focus on her presentation, however, her nerves got the best of her and she gave in to them and went inside.

The moment she entered, Kaycee grew nervous at the sight of a different face at the counter. She had been counting on La Jetta's easygoing friendliness as support and confirmation to ease her fears. The woman standing behind the counter looked nice enough, but didn't immediately generate the same kind of outgoing attitude that she had encountered with La Jetta. She was older with graying hair smoothed into a neat bun and glasses on the tip of her nose.

“Good morning,” Kaycee greeted with her warmest smile. “I have an appointment with Mr. Thompson.”

The woman slowly shook her head and peered sternly at Kaycee over the rims of her glasses. “Mr. Rick don't meet with nobody on Mondays.”

Kaycee's mouth grew dry and she swallowed hard. “I talked to La Jetta last week and she said this would be a good time to meet with Mr. Thompson.”

The older woman shook her head with a drawn-out sigh as if she had heard that excuse before. “I don't know why Jetta acts like she's trying to be Mr. Rick's secretary. She knows better than that.” She looked down at the basket in Kaycee's hands. “What kind of meeting do you have?”

Kaycee placed the basket on the counter and took out a business card. She handed it to the woman.

“My name is Kaycee Jordan and I was talking to La Jetta about doing business with Mr. Thompson.”

The woman sucked her teeth and shook her head. “Jetta know Mr. Rick said he wasn't trying to get anyone else to fill that position.”

“May I ask why?” Kaycee asked. La Jetta's explanation had been a little sketchy, and she wanted to know what she was dealing with.

“He was burned,” she replied. “That's all I can say.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Kaycee answered. Then a thought came to her. She was going to get to Mr. Rick today by any means necessary. She reached inside the basket and took out a container of peach cobbler.

“I know what it's like to have trust in someone and have them fail you,” Kaycee said removing the lid from the box to retrieve the small container inside. She placed the container in front of the woman and allowed the sweet smell of peaches, cinnamon and buttery crust to entice her nose.

“Wh-what's that?” the older woman stammered, her eyes lighting up at the gift before her.

“My grandmother Ursula's peach cobbler recipe,” Kaycee replied. “I'm told that one taste and you'll never go back to instant cobbler again.”

“Is that right?” she said, smacking her lips. Her eyes were big as saucers and Kaycee swore she could see saliva building up in the corners of her mouth.

“Why not try for yourself?” She handed her a clear plastic spoon.

The woman scooped some of the dessert in the spoon and examined it closely. She took a whiff and nodded as if the filling and crust were the right consistency. She brought the spoon to her face and eyed it for a few seconds more before placing it into her mouth.

Kaycee watched her face intently, but she just continued to chomp away as if she had no opinion one way or the other. She finally looked up at Kaycee after finishing her bite. Her eyes traveled back to the basket.

“What else you got in there?”

Kaycee's heartbeat quickened and she scrambled to open the basket to reveal its contents. “I have coconut cake, German chocolate cake, Italian cream cake and red velvet cheesecake plus some chocolate-covered strawberries and truffles.”

“Wait right here,” the woman said and disappeared to the back.

The minutes seemed like hours to Kaycee, and she prayed that her strawberries and truffles were still holding up. She sighed with relief when the lady returned. She seemed like a different person.

“Go on and have a seat over at the table there, sugah, and Mr. Rick will be out with you shortly.”

“Thank you,” Kaycee whispered with a sigh of relief. “Thank you very much.” She quickly gathered her things and went to set up the table that the woman had pointed out. First she laid out a turquoise satin tablecloth. Then she removed the boxes containing the goodies. To her relief each one was intact. She removed the lids and propped the boxes atop them around the table. Before one chair she placed a gold fork, a china plate and one of the colorful catalogs with an order form and business card.

With a satisfied grin, she sat back and waited. Customers threw curious glances her way wondering what the occasion was. A few even stopped to admire her wares and take business cards.

The woman came over to the table to praise her for her creativity and offered her a cup of coffee on the house.

“What do you recommend?”

“All of it, but I'll give you the toffee crunch,” she answered. Before she walked away she turned back and smiled again, saying, “By the way, my name is Charlotte and I think your peach cobbler is delicious!”

Kaycee smiled proudly. “Thank you so much.”

She looked back to the table and straightened the papers across from her once more. Suddenly, she felt a presence. Slowly looking up, her breath caught at the sight of her neighbor standing before her.

T
he last person she wanted to see was him. He was too much of a distraction and concentration was important for this meeting. However, she could not deny how fine he looked in the pale yellow dress shirt and black tailored trousers, compared to the overalls and plaid shirt he'd had on a few days ago. The man was like a chameleon. Whatever he was there for, she hoped he'd get it and be well on his way.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered.

“My question exactly,” he replied.

“For your information, I'm here for an important business meeting, so I don't have time to get into it with you over your dog.”

Kendrick's face fell. “Don't tell me that you're Kaycee Jordan from Soulicious?”

“Why?” The look on his face told it all. He was Kendrick Thompson. “You can't be,” she stuttered.

“I am,” he replied. His eyes took in the spread on the table before her. “What is all of this?” he asked with a wave of his arm.

“It's a part of my presentation.”

“Do you think all of that is necessary?” His tone reminded her of the flippant comment about her shoes and she immediately went on the defensive.

“For my business it is,” she carefully replied. “I happen to take what I do very seriously and I treat all of my clients with the utmost professionalism. So if you'd care to hear my presentation, I would like to get on with it.”

A slow smile curved Kendrick's lips and he nodded for her to proceed. He pulled out the bistro chair and took a seat.

 

Kendrick hoped that his attraction to Kaycee would be mistaken for attentiveness to her presentation. If asked, he probably couldn't recall a word she said. His eyes drank in her beauty. He liked the way the chocolate-brown dress hugged her womanly curves in all the right places. Although sexy, it was tasteful.

That was the one thing he noticed about her right away. She had class, unlike other women who tried to hold on to the banner of youth by sporting tattoos and piercings in unmentionable and in some cases obvious places, Kaycee carried herself as a woman who commanded respect. She was the first woman who had managed to capture his attention since his beloved wife had passed away.

He decided that he liked everything about her already. The lilt in her voice and the light in her eyes as she talked about her business displayed her passion for what she did. He thought her rich, husky voice was sexy and he imagined her whispering words for his ears only.

“Mr. Thompson, I said would you like to sample some of the cake?” she repeated in a soft voice as smooth as a caress.

Kendrick jumped out of his daydream and cleared his throat nervously. “Huh, wh-what?” He looked up to find her standing over him with a gold fork and a plate in hand.

“Cake,” she said holding out the plate. “Would you like some?”

“Sure,” he replied. He couldn't deny that his attention had zeroed in on the coconut cake when he'd first arrived at the table. Charlotte had raved over the peach cobbler. If the coconut cake was as good, he might have to consider doing business with Kaycee.

Kaycee transferred the cake from the box onto the plate and placed it before him.

Kendrick took the fork and dug in. The taste reminded him of Sunday afternoons when he and his brothers and sisters had looked forward to their mother's coconut cake after church. Kaycee's was just as moist and just as delicious.

“This is good,” he announced.

Kaycee's eyes widened at the look of passion in Kendrick's face as he ate. She had never seen a man show so much expression. The way his full lips savored the cake made her want to jump on the plate, too. The whole experience was almost…orgasmic!

“Try some of the Italian cream cake and tell me what you think.” She slid a corner of the cake onto his plate. The second the cake hit his mouth, it seemed to melt.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm,” he moaned. “Are you sure that you made these?”

“What are you trying to imply?” she asked, surprised by another one of his offhand comments.

Kendrick shrugged and wiped his mouth on the napkin she provided. “It's just that you're kind of young, and I thought people your age would be more interested in buying a cake than baking one.”

Her first reaction was to cut him off with a sharp comment, but what would that accomplish? Nothing. Would it get her the business she was trying to secure? Probably not. So she chose to take the high road.

“Mr. Thompson, understand this. I'm a very serious business woman. Baking is now my life. Every one of these recipes has been handed down from generations. I'm offended that you'd think I would try to accomplish something by taking shortcuts. That's not my style.”

Kendrick reared his head back to look her squarely in the eye. “I'm sorry. Please forgive me for my lack of professionalism. It's just that I've been in this situation before. I know you don't have anything to do with it, but it's kind of hard getting over.”

She exhaled slowly, relieved that he wasn't the monster she thought him to be. “I'll accept your apology if you place an order.”

“And if I don't?”

Kaycee paused and looked into his eyes and struggled for a witty comeback, but she had none to throw. With a sigh she just shook her head in defeat. The man was definitely a challenge.

The silence was comforting yet awkward at the same time. Kendrick tilted his head to the side and his eyes lowered as if studying the depths of her soul, just as they had the other night. Kaycee squirmed under his gaze, but she couldn't look away. He had her locked in.

He's doing it again, she thought. He's giving me that same look that makes me…

“I have an event coming up sponsored by the Soul Connection—ever hear of them?”

Kaycee's eyes widened in recognition of the popular local dating club. It was full of well-to-do young professionals with lots of connections. She nodded.

“Your product is perfect. I may consider working with you. Why don't you leave these with me,” he said, picking up one of her catalogs and an order form. “I'll call you later in the week to let you know where I stand. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough,” she replied, placing her hand into his. As their hands touched, Kaycee sucked in a breath at the current of energy that transferred between them. She didn't know what Kendrick Thompson was all about, but she had a distinct feeling that she would soon find out.