скачать книгу бесплатно
Suddenly deaf and mute, Makayla blinked rapidly. The sun was blinding her eyes, so she arched a hand over her head. She had had a crush on him from the first day of high school, much like the rest of the girls in the freshman class. In a navy-blue football jacket, a white T-shirt and blue jeans, Kenyon looked like the poster boy for the U.S. Marines. His low top fade was neatly cut and his eyes, which twinkled whenever he was talking to a member of the opposite sex, were concealed by dark sunglasses. He was carrying his two most beloved items: a football and a camera.
“I’m Kenyon. I sit behind you in Mr. Ivanovich’s class. What’s your name again?” When she hesitated he said, “You do have a name, don’t you?”
“M-M-Makayla Stevens,” she said, finding her voice.
“You’re the smartest girl in our class and I couldn’t pass math if I had a cheat sheet. I bombed the last pop quiz while you got a perfect score.” His voice was tinged with sadness. “My pops said if I don’t pull up my grades, I’m off the football team. Can you tutor me? I can pay you ten bucks a week. Sound fair?”
Makayla spoke in a whisper. “Y-you don’t have to pay me. I’ll tutor you for free.”
“No, my dad says if you want something done right you have to pay for it.”
Lucas yelled across the field, “QB! Why are you talkin’ to fat ass? Hurry up, man, we’re waitin’ on you.”
Kenyon smiled down at her. “Can you meet me tomorrow in the library? Say twelve-fifteen?”
Too excited to speak, Makayla simply nodded in response.
Flashing those pearly whites again he said, “Thanks, Makayla.” With a smile and a wink, he sprinted across the field toward his friends.
For the rest of the semester, Makayla had been in her glory. Three days a week, she worked with Kenyon to complete his assignments and helped him prepare for the final exam. They chatted over lunch when they finished studying. Rather, Kenyon talked and Makayla listened. He shared his dream of one day playing football and taking care of his mom and stepdad. He never asked Makayla about herself and she didn’t volunteer any information. Unfortunately for her, Kenyon aced the next three tests and as quickly as their friendship had begun, it was over.
The sound of Kenyon’s voice jarred Makayla out of her daydream.
“I’m still waiting for that name,” he teased.
Makayla doubted Kenyon would remember her if she told him her full name, but it was better to be on the safe side. “Everyone calls me Kay,” she told him. It was only a fraction of a lie, she reasoned, ignoring the jab from her conscience. It grated on her nerves when people shortened her name but tonight, Kay would suit her just fine.
“How long have you been teaching?”
“Ten years. I graduated from Bryn Mawr College in ’96 and I’ve been at Springs Park Elementary ever since.”
“You went to Bryn Mawr?” he asked, his fork suspended in midair. “The all-girls school?”
“Yes.”
“For four years?”
“Yes. Why do you look so surprised?”
“Because most of the women I’ve met from there are—are—” Kenyon’s voice trailed off into silence.
“They’re all butch, bra-burning feminists, right?”
He shrugged. “Pretty much.”
“Bryn Mawr College is an exceptional school with high standards and top academic programs.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Her lips were a tight line. “I’m not offended.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not. You’re entitled to your opinion.”
Kenyon studied her face for a few seconds, then said, “Let me just go on the record as saying you’re the finest woman I’ve ever met from Bryn Mawr College.”
Her anger vanished and her lips relaxed into a smile. As far as Makayla was concerned, the compliment was better than the Prize Patrol showing up on her doorstep any day. Makayla felt a twinge of guilt. This was wrong, very, very wrong. Flirting with a married man was asking for bad karma. To divert the conversation away from herself, she asked Kenyon about his career. “You mentioned earlier that you’re a freelance photographer. How did you get into the business?”
“I’ve always loved photography, so when I busted my knee and my football scholarship fell through, I decided to get my associate degree. After graduation, I traveled across Europe, Asia and Africa building up my portfolio. When I returned to the States, I settled in New York. I was lucky enough to work with some of the biggest names in the industry.”
“It must have been hard being away from your family.”
“It was.”
“Do you travel a lot?”
“Too much,” he admitted, his eyes probing her face. “But I plan to be around a lot more. Terrance needs me now. I set my own schedule, which gives me the freedom to choose which jobs I take. I turn down any gig that’s going to keep me away from home longer than a week.”
Not much had changed since high school. Makayla still loved hearing Kenyon talk. She had more questions, but the waitress returned to collect their plates. Since neither one of them wanted dessert, Kenyon asked for the check.
“I had a good time,” he confessed.
It didn’t seem right agreeing with him, so Makayla smiled politely.
“Maybe we can get together once I get back from Fiji. We could catch a movie, or go for drinks. Dave Chappelle is doing a set at the Big Dog Comedy Club the last Saturday of the month. Interested?”
Caught off guard by his question, she took a few seconds to collect her thoughts. He didn’t even ask if I have a boyfriend. Is my single status that obvious? Makayla tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Beneath her straitlaced, university-educated facade lurked a very lonely woman. Sure, she had friends and an active social life, but Makayla yearned to find her soul mate. That one special guy who would love her unconditionally. “I don’t think that would be appropriate.”
“Why not? I won’t tell if you don’t,” he joked. “I can be discreet. Nobody has to know we’re kicking it.”
Is he suggesting we have an affair? Her feelings bubbled over like a pot of boiling water. Makayla hit him with an icy stare. Kenyon had been making passes at her all night and she was sick of it. He must think he’s something special! she thought, struggling to maintain her composure. Flirting was one thing but now he was crossing the line. He may be having problems in his relationship but he was still legally married and that meant he was off limits. “How can you be so insensitive? Terrance is broken up over what’s going on at home and your wife isn’t faring much better. I suggest you spend more time getting your family back together and less time hitting on me.”
Kenyon smirked. “My wife?”
“Yes, your wife.”
“You don’t understand,” he said, the humor heavy in his voice.
“No, you don’t understand.” Makayla threw down her napkin. “Your son is acting out because of problems at home and you’d rather play the field than attend to his needs. That’s despicable!”
“But Veronika and I—”
“Save it.” Makayla pushed back her chair, tossed down enough money to cover her share of the bill and grabbed her coat.
“Wait! It’s not what you think.”
“Womanizing jerk,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.
“Veronika and I aren’t married!”
“Whatever.” Makayla turned and marched through the restaurant without breaking her stride.
Chapter 3
“Class, don’t forget to bring your permission slips on Monday. The field trip to the Philadelphia Zoo is only a few weeks away.” Walking the length of the room, Makayla cleaned the chalk residue from her hands. She crouched down and helped Kiska tie her sneakers, then separated two boys who were using the rulers as swords.
After reminding the students to do their homework, she opened the door and took a fleeting look down the hall. Weaving his way through the throng of elementary students was Kenyon Blake.
What did he want now?
The bell rang and students swarmed around Makayla for hugs. Kids waved frantically as they scurried out the door and down the congested hallway. Returning to the safety of her desk, she yanked a random book off the shelf, sat down and started reading.
Terrance’s high-pitched laugh rippled outside the classroom door.
“All right, li’l man. I’m going to talk to Ms. Stevens while you play outside. I’ll be out in five minutes, so don’t drive off without me.”
“But I can’t drive!”
“Aren’t you eighteen?”
Terrance giggled. “No, I’m five!”
Burying her head in the science curriculum guide, she picked up a ballpoint pen and pretended to be making notes in the margins. Makayla could hear Terrance running down the hall and resisted the urge to call him back into the classroom. She had told him countless times that hallways were for walking, not running, but like everything else she said, the message obviously wasn’t hitting home.
“By the way you took off, I can only assume you’re not happy to see me.” Kenyon chuckled lightly. “Now is that any way to treat a concerned parent?”
Makayla kept her eyes on the book. She wanted to ask the two-timing snake what was so funny, but she bit her tongue. His cocksure attitude made her sick to her stomach. “What do you want, Mr. Blake?” Her tone was brisk and professional.
“I came to see you.”
“Is there a problem?”
“I’d say so. You think I’m an asshole, don’t you?”
“Yes.” The word slipped from her mouth with ease. Feeling contrite, she dropped her pen and looked up at him. He was even more attractive today, if that was at all possible. In a black leather jacket, turtleneck sweater and jeans, he reminded her of her favorite detective from the hit series New York Undercover. There was a gravity about him, a raw, sexual energy that was so intense, if she wasn’t careful she’d lose the good sense God gave her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“By the way, I like your dress. It hugs your body in all the right places.”
Makayla folded her hands. It was a good thing there was a desk between them or he would have her hand impression on his right cheek. If there was one thing she hated, it was conceited men who thought they owned the world. And Kenyon Blake was arrogance personified. “I don’t think your wife would appreciate you hitting on me.”
“I’d better stop teasing you before things get ugly.” Kenyon pulled a chair up to her desk and straddled it. “Veronika and I aren’t married.”
“Common-law unions are now recognized by the courts.”
“We don’t live together.”
She eyed him warily. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Mr. Blake.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“Veronika’s my sister-in-law, not my wife.”
Makayla searched his face for the truth. His smile was sincere and he sounded convincing. “But last night you said you were having problems at home. I took that to mean you were separated.”
“My brother was—he was murdered a year and a half ago.” His voice filled with emotion. “Felix loved his family. Terrance and Veronika were his whole world. They’re still having a really hard time dealing with his death. We all are.”
Makayla grappled with what to say. It had been almost fifteen years since she lost her mother to breast cancer, but the pain never went away. Overcome with sympathy, she said the only thing that came to mind, “I lost my mom years ago and I still miss her. I am so sorry for your loss.”
Kenyon nodded absently. “I tried to explain, but you blew out of the restaurant so fast, I didn’t get a chance.”
Makayla wanted to crawl into a hole so deep archaeologists wouldn’t be able to find her. “I had no idea.”
“I thought you knew. Terrance never mentioned it?”
Makayla didn’t want to tell Kenyon that every other word out of his nephew’s mouth was a lie, so she said, “Kids talk a lot. Sometimes it’s hard to separate fact from fiction.”
“You’re right. Terrance and his friends come up with the craziest things.”
They shared a smile.
“If you don’t mind my asking, what happened?”
“Felix was on the Criminal Apprehension Unit. He was shot while trying to arrest a gang member out on parole. It’s still hard to believe he’s gone.”
Kenyon glanced out the window. Seconds passed before he returned his gaze to Makayla’s face. His eyes were narrowed slightly, and his face was pinched in determination. “I’m going to help Veronika and Terrance get through this. That’s why I want you to call me the next time there’s a problem. Veronika has a lot on her plate right now and she doesn’t need any more added stress. You understand, don’t you?”
“I do. And I’m sorry I blew up at you. I didn’t mean what I said.”
Kenyon’s smile resurfaced. “You called me a womanizing jerk.” Clutching a hand to his chest, he used the other to wipe away an imaginary tear. “That hurt. I may be a womanizer, but I’m not a jerk.”
Makayla laughed. The delicious warmth of his smile alleviated the tension in the room. “Again, I’m deeply sorry.”
“Apology accepted.” He leaned forward in his chair, his eyes alight with mischief. “What are you going to do to make it up to me?”
“Excuse me?”
“I think restitution is in order.”
“What do you expect me to do? Cook you a five-course meal?”
His face lit up like the Rockefeller Christmas tree. “Sounds great!”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
