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“A long time ago, I told you that I thought you were beautiful the way all black women are beautiful.” Malik looked into Tamia’s eyes. “Right now I want you to know I think you’re beautiful. Not just outside. But your mind. You impress me every day.”
Tamia wasn’t sure how to respond to this, so she didn’t. She kissed him.
She kissed him and when she tried to move away she realized Malik’s hands were around her neck and holding her to him. In his lips she felt the hunger and heat he’d fought with the day she smelled African musk in the subway. When they parted, it was as if they were still together.
“What was that?” Tamia asked, covering her mouth. “What just happened?”
“I don’t know,” Malik said. “I kissed you.”
“No, I kissed you.”
“I wanted you to kiss me.” Malik looked at her like he was coming in for another kiss.
“But…” She moved back. “But we can’t. We…What about Ayo?”
“Ayo?”
“I know you have something with her.”
“I had something with her for a very long time,” Malik said. “But I think that very long time is all we have.”
“I knew it,” Tamia said.
“You knew what?” Malik asked. “You have somebody too. I know it. Probably some monkey-suit-wearing fraternity boy in the city.”
Tamia lowered her eyes
“Now, I knew it,” Malik said. “You come up here to Harlem to play, but your real thing is hidden in a high-rise. Is he paying your rent?”
“No, my mortgage,” Tamia said curtly before getting up.
“I’m sorry,” Malik said. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m frustrated.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve been thinking about that kiss for a long time. But I know we can’t act on it,” he explained. “We can’t ruin what we have.”
“What we have?” Tamia’s toes were tingling just considering the idea that they had something between them.
“Our relationship,” he s
aid. “You’re my attorney. You have to represent me.”
“Oh, yes,” Tamia said, thinking maybe her toes had just fallen off. “We wouldn’t want to ruin that.”
?
For more than a week, the flesh beneath Troy’s skin was boiling with such anger, such fury at Myrtle’s display at the church that it was becoming impossible for her to follow her desire to remain composed and poised as the immaculate First Lady she wanted to be. The questions Lucy had raised about Myrtle’s intentions pricked into her mind like thorns each night and she could hardly rest without thinking about Myrtle’s nerve and what she might be planning next.
And then, one morning after a sleepless night when the sun hit the concrete outside of the Hall brownstone, Kyle watched his wife rise, wash, and dress in a matter of minutes.
“Where are you going?” Kyle asked, sure he was still dreaming. Troy wasn’t exactly an early riser and her daily coiffing routine meant that leaving the bedroom before 10 a.m. was nearly impossible.
“Nowhere,” Troy said, slipping on her heels…and then switching to sneakers and then back to heels. “See you later.” She kissed him on the forehead and ran out as if she’d decided on the sneakers.
There was an early-morning line at the bank where Myrtle was manager, but Troy’s nerve pushed her past the tired crowd, through customer support, and before Myrtle’s receptionist.
“Can I help you?” the frail assistant asked, her hands still in position on the keyboard, her eyes peeking out over the rims of glasses that seemed to weigh her head down.
