Can't Stop Loving You (9 page)

His emphasis on the word
I
let Kaycee know that she had crossed the line.

“I'm sorry, I wasn't implying that Jireh needed fixing. I was just offering some ideas. New things don't have to be so painful, you know.” She picked up the packets and placed them into her briefcase. “Mr. Thompson, I don't know what you expected from me, but if you really didn't want my services then why did you hire me?”

“Good question!” he barked.

Both paused as his words penetrated the atmosphere and lingered in the air like a smelly fart.

Kaycee shook her head and closed her briefcase. “I guess that said it all. Have a good day, Mr. Thompson!” She marched past him and out the door.

K
aycee calmly walked to her car.

As she reached inside her purse for her keys, she pulled out a bright-yellow slip of paper. Scrawled across it in Sidra's handwriting was the name and number of her friend, Grant Craddock.

Since that day, Kaycee hadn't thought twice about Grant.

She held up the phone number as if to recall any standout qualities that Sidra may have rattled off, when the Black Business Network came to mind.

A smile curved her mouth as she thought of all the potential business she could gain there for her business. The network's membership consisted of well-off, successful black entrepreneurs in the Greater Atlanta area. With a new surge of purpose, she immediately located her keys and unlocked her car. Once inside its confines she dialed Grant's number.

The line rang twice before his voice mail picked up.

“You've reached Grant. At the sound of the tone, please leave me a detailed message and I will return your call. Peace.”

Kaycee liked the sound of his voice right off. It was both clear and friendly. She liked the way he enunciated each word like a radio disc jockey with a laid-back flair. She wondered if the short, to-the-point greeting was indicative of his personality.

Beep!

“Uh, Grant, this is Sidra's friend, Kaycee Jordan. I'm just calling to…touch base. Yes, to touch base with you. Sidra said you should expect my call. Anyway, give me a call back when you get a chance.”

She gave her number and snapped her cell phone shut then shook her head, hoping that she didn't sound like a complete idiot. With a backward glance at Café Jireh, Kaycee sighed with disappointment at what could have been.

 

The warm evening was the perfect weather to enjoy a bowl of ice cream before the television. After taking a shower, Kaycee smoothed some shea butter on her skin and slipped into her pajama short set.

She slipped a pair of footies onto her feet before descending the stairs and heading into the kitchen. Turning on the light, she made a beeline for the freezer and the container of Moose Tracks ice cream that awaited her.

When she grabbed the container, she grimaced at its light weight. Fearing the worse, she pulled it out and looked inside to find nothing more than a spoonful left.

“Sid!” she groaned, recalling the image of her friend eating out of the container at her last visit. The girl had a stomach like a bottomless pit yet never seemed to gain a pound!

Had she been in the mood, she would have whipped up something quick from her collection of recipes, but she didn't have the energy. Besides, the night was a lazy one for her, which was a rarity.

She quickly scanned the remaining odds and ends in the refrigerator. There wasn't enough of anything there to make a decent dessert. Empty-handed, she was trudging into the family room when the doorbell rang.

The clock overhead read 8:47 p.m. She never got visitors so late in the evening. The only person who would dare was Sidra, but even she wouldn't come clear across town without calling first.

Peeking out the peephole, Kaycee was surprised to find Kendrick standing there with bags in his hands. Her heart raced as she wondered what he wanted. Especially after the harsh words spoken earlier that day in his office, Kaycee hadn't expected to see him again—at least not on purpose.

Crossing her arms before her, she leaned against the door. She had a good mind to leave him standing there after the way he'd driven her from the café earlier that day. However, curiosity won out, and, without a thought as to what she was wearing, Kaycee unlocked and opened the door.

Only when she saw the look of awe on Kendrick's face did she remember her scantily clad appearance, and she jumped behind the door.

“Kendrick!” she exclaimed, flushing. “What are you doing here?”

“I—I had some leftover food from the restaurant and thought you might be hungry,” he said, holding up the bags.

“As you can see, I didn't expect any visitors,” she apologized. “Can you give me a second to cover up?”

“I didn't mean to just barge over, I can leave,” he began and leaned over to set the bags on the porch.

“No!” she blurted, her sudden outburst causing him to freeze. “I mean, it's okay. Just give me a second, okay?”

“Sure,” he replied.

Kaycee partially closed the door and took the steps two at a time before scurrying across the landing to her bedroom where she located her dark purple satin robe. It was the first cover-up that she could find. Although it was made of a different material, the purple toned well with her lavender pajamas.

Breathless, she reappeared at the door with a smile.

“Now, what is this here? A peace offering of sorts?”

Kendrick chuckled. “Yes, I guess you can say so.”

“Then, by all means, come inside,” she said stepping aside to let him enter.

He waited for her to lead the way. Although their homes were similar in layout, their choices in upgrades differed, as did their taste in decor.

The empty formal living room lay to his left, and the room to the immediate left of the entrance, which he used as his home office, was some sort of library in her home. He could tell by the tall oak bookcases filled with hundreds of books, the plush royal-purple chaise lounge and the Tiffany-style reading lamp.

They continued back into the large open kitchen where he sat the bags on the countertop. Again, the layout was similar, with crown molding above the cabinets, stainless-steel appliances and an oversized island in the center of the room, however, the difference lay again in their choices of colors and textures. Kaycee's cabinets were honey-walnut with sand-colored granite countertops and ceramic-tile flooring while he preferred cherrywood cabinets with black marble countertops and hardwood flooring.

“I like your place,” he said looking around.

“Thanks. The only rooms I've been able to work on are the family room and my bedroom. I guess those are the only rooms I care about.”

Her confession tickled his curiosity, making him want to see her secret domain.

The rumbling of her stomach came on cue, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since she was at the café. She peeked inside the bags to find a loaf of French bread, two bowls of bistro steak salad and two pieces of her sweet-potato cheesecake.

“Where do you want me to put this?” Kendrick asked, holding up a bottle of white wine.

“Now, I don't recall that being on Jireh's menu, but you can find the wineglasses in the cabinet behind you.”

He retrieved the glasses and located the corkscrew, as well. After opening the bottle, he poured two healthy glasses and opened the refrigerator to place the bottle inside. What he saw astounded him.

“Kaycee!”

“What?” Kaycee shrieked, rushing to his side.

“Where is your food?” he asked, eyeing the practically bare box.

She waved his question off and returned to opening the bags. “There's food in there.”

“Yeah, for a rabbit,” he retorted holding up a cucumber and a bag of wilted spinach salad. “Why don't you have any food?”

“I have food. Just enough for me.”

“That is not food,” he replied. “Where's your milk and eggs?”

“I'm lactose intolerant and I hate eggs,” she answered.

Kendrick shook his head, not accepting her excuse. “Kaycee, you of all people know what it means to have the essentials on hand. Don't forget, you're in the restaurant business.”

“Am I?” she asked bluntly, finding the perfect opportunity to know where she stood with him.

With a tilt of his head, Kendrick contritely replied. “If you'll change your mind and forgive me for being a jerk, I would like you to remain at Café Jireh.”

His apology made her give in quite easily. “Just don't let it happen again,” she playfully warned, her balled fist drawing a smile from him.

Kendrick carried the salad and bread while Kaycee took the wine and glasses into the family room where Kaycee turned on the television.

A familiar red bullet hole covered the screen like a bloodstained target. A figure walked into the center and turned sharply, shooting his gun.

“Aw, shoot,” Kendrick called out, hurrying to sit down on the sofa.

Kaycee's brow raised. “What? You don't like Bond?”

“Are you kidding? He's my boy.”

Kaycee's mouth dropped open in amazement. She didn't know many men who liked James Bond movies. Paul had said they were just as fake as WWF wrestling and had refused to watch them with her.

She placed the glasses on the table. “I'm the biggest James Bond fan.”

“Yeah, next to me,” Kendrick replied.

“Oh, yeah, let's see how much you know,” she challenged.

He waved her off, “You don't want to test me, I don't want to embarrass you by getting all the questions right,” he teased.

Kaycee's eyes lit up with excitement as her mind raked through James Bond trivia like lightning. “Oh, we'll see about that!” she crowed.

Marching in front of the television, she placed her hands on her hips. “Are you ready Mr. Know-Everything-About-Bond?”

“Okay, you asked for it,” he replied and took a bite of salad. “Hit me with your best shot.”

“Question number one: What was the first Bond movie?”

“That's easy,” he snorted with a wave of his hand. “It was Dr. No.”

Kaycee nodded with approval. “Okay, how many James Bonds have there been?”

“Six. Sean Connery, George Lazenby, Roger Moore, Timothy Dalton, Pierce Brosnan and they recently signed on a new guy, Daniel Craig.”

“Okay, Mr. Big Shot, here's a hard one. Which two movies did the villain Jaws appear in?”

Kendrick faked a yawn, “
Moonraker
and
The Spy Who Loved Me
.”

“Who is the only Bond girl to appear in more than one Bond film?”

“Easy, Maude Adams. She played in
Octopussy
and
The Man with the Golden Gun
, and she was an extra in
A View to Kill
.”

“Okay, okay, you know a little something,” she conceded, reclaiming her spot on the sofa.

“You're pretty good, though,” Kendrick replied, impressed by her knowledge. “What does a young girl like you got business watching James Bond movies?”

“My brothers and I have been fans since we were kids. We used to pretend play Bond all the time. My oldest brother Rusty always played Felix. My brother Mark played Q because he liked showing off the gadgets. The villain was Darren because he is the most devious, while the baby, Kyle was Bond himself. I played both the Bond girl and Moneypenny.”

Laughter rippled through the room and before Kaycee knew it, Kendrick was holding his sides. “Moneypenny? Moneypenny?”

Kaycee pushed him over on the couch. “Whatever! I was the only one who had two roles.”

“I see where you get your creativity from.”

She began picking through her salad. “Speaking of creativity, are you sure you don't want to reconsider some of my ideas?”

He eased back on the leather cushions. “You know, I thought about it and I must admit your suggestions were all good. I just couldn't see how they fit with the Jireh concept. Then I realized that I hadn't shared my vision of how Jireh came to be.”

“You didn't, but I would love to hear it,” she replied, drawing her legs up on the sofa.

Kendrick placed his fork on his plate and sat back.

“It was actually the brainchild of my wife Amanda. She had a dream of owning a coffee house when Seattle's Best Coffee and later Starbucks became popular on the coasts. But she wanted the offerings to reflect our culture. For two years, we put together a business plan. We got the schematics drawn up, purchased the business license, the whole shebang. When we were done, we looked around and we didn't have a dime.”

He laughed and Kaycee could see him losing himself in reflections of the past.

“Amanda was a woman of true faith. While our bank accounts said, not right now, she believed God said now. She was the one who came up with the name Café Jireh.
Jireh
means God is our provider. Amanda believed it was the Lord who reminded us of an old treasury note that I purchased years ago. When I redeemed the note, it was exactly what we needed.

“Right about the time that we were going to put something down on a location, Amanda was diagnosed with stage-three ovarian cancer. She was gone a year later.

“So, I picked up and left California to be closer to my daughter Bianca.”

“I'm sorry about your wife,” Kaycee solemnly replied.

Clasping his hands together, Kendrick leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Thank you. I had to change my outlook. Instead of being angry about her being taken away so young, I had to thank God for at least giving me twenty-six great years with her.”