Chapter 4
I wasn’t sure how I could forget a face as beautiful as Malyah’s, but our first meeting was definitely a blur. Even with all that she’d been going through, her beautiful brown skin still carried a glow. Her eyes held an innocence I’d never seen before, and they spoke directly to my heart.
“Mr. Goode, this is too much. It’ll take me forever to pay you back,” she said as she looked around the hotel room.
“Please call me Kenzo or KG. I told you earlier that you don’t have to pay me back. Besides, it’s not as much as you think. My family gets a huge discount here.”
“I’ve never been in a hotel room this nice. Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. Feel free to use all the amenities and order room service.”
“Mr. Goo—I mean, Kenzo, I can’t—”
“You can and you will. Do you need anything before I go?” I asked.
“You’ve done enough. I’m sure I have everything I need.”
“Do you have a phone?”
She laughed. “I’m broke, but my phone bill is paid.”
She retrieved her phone from her purse, unlocked it, and handed it to me. Her lock screen was a picture of a little girl, who I assumed was her, dressed in a chef’s uniform. I went through the steps to add my number, then sent myself a text from her phone so I’d have hers.
When she mentioned going to culinary school at the restaurant, I made a mental note to ask her about it before we left, and it slipped my mind. I honestly couldn’t think of anything while sitting across from this beautiful woman except how to help her.
“What culinary school are you attending?” I asked.
“Washburne. It’s in—”
“Kennedy-King College. I’m familiar with it. Have you always wanted to be a chef?”
“A pastry chef. I prefer making desserts more than anything else. It’s my happy place.”
My mind went back to the cheesecakes I tasted earlier this week.
“Are you responsible for the cheesecakes that were in the cafeteria earlier this week?”
“Umm, if I say yes, will you fire me?”
“Malyah, how many times do I have to tell you I’m not going to fire you?”
“You said it before for a different situation. I want to make sure it applies to this as well.”
I chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes. That shit was good as hell. If you’re making desserts like that already, why do you need to go to school?”
“It’s something I’ve always wanted to do. Plus, I still have a lot to learn.”
I nodded. “I respect that, but my grandparents started SSG with very little education. I’m not saying that to discourage you, but spending thousands of dollars for someone to teach you something that is your God-given gift isn’t always necessary.”
She studied me for a moment, and her expression indicated that she was trying to read me, but all she said was, “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“I guess I should get out of your hair. Again, whatever you need is at your disposal.”
For some reason, leaving this woman’s presence was hard as hell. I wanted to know more about her, but I’d already pried too much.
“Thank you.”
“And if you need anything or need to go anywhere, hit me up.”
“I’ll be fine, but I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.
Neither of us moved, remaining in the same place and staring at each other as if we didn’t know what to do next.
“I should go,” I finally said, wishing she’d ask me to stay.
“Okay. In case you’re not aware, I start work at six a.m. Will you be able to take me?”
“Damn. That’s early, but I got you.”
“Thank you. I’ll text you on Sunday night to remind you.”
The fact that she didn’t plan to communicate with me until Sunday fucked me up, but I nodded as I walked backward toward the door. When I reached it, I begrudgingly turned around, grabbed the handle, and pulled it open.
“If you need anything—”
“I promise to reach out,” she said, interrupting me.
When I entered the hallway and pulled the door closed, I blew out a breath. I couldn’t deny how much I was drawn to Malyah, and I wondered if she felt the same pull toward me.
As soon as I got into my car and my phone connected to Bluetooth, I called Ronin. He picked up after the first ring.
“What up?” he answered.
“I think I found a solution to my problem.”
“Problem, as in finding a wife?”
“Yeah.”
“Shit. This should be interesting. I’m all ears.”
When Ronin and I met up a few days ago, I filled him in on the conversation I had with my parents and my grandfather. Of course, he gave me shit about it but eventually shared how fucked up he thought the situation was.
“Her name is Malyah, and she’s the head cook at SSG.”
“She works for you?”
“Yeah.”
“And she agreed to marry you?”
“No, not yet.”
“Is she considering it?”
“No. I haven’t mentioned it to her yet.”
“Nigga, it doesn’t sound like you have a solution.”
“She’s feeling me.”
“I’ve never heard you mention this woman’s name. Did she just start working there?”
“No, but we never officially met.”
“Did she do something today to gain your attention, because you're making no sense?”
“I don’t want to tell you all her business, so let’s just say she’s down on her luck and might be willing to marry me in order to get out of the situation she’s in.”
“Down on her luck? Is she in legal trouble?”
“Nah, nothing like that, but she needs help.”
“I don’t know, man. You might be better off marrying someone Auntie chooses, or one of the women you’ve been dealing with.”
Even though he couldn’t see me, I shook my head.
“Nah. I’m not marrying anyone Ma chooses, and the women I fuck are simply that, the women I fuck.”
“But at least you know them. What about Callie?”
“I don’t know them hos, and what about Callie?”
“You were supposed to cut her off after she faked that pregnancy, but she’s the one you keep going back to. There must be something there, and you know her more than you know this Malyah woman.”
“True, but Callie can’t be trusted.”
“And you think this Malyah can be trusted? She knows you have money and is probably trying to see how much she can swindle out of you.”
“She has no idea I’m thinking about asking her to marry me, so she ain’t after my money, nigga.”
“All right, man, damn. Chill out. That pussy must be good if you’re acting like this.”
“I’m sure it is, and I plan to find out eventually.”
“You ain’t hit it yet, and she already got you tripping. Shit, maybe she is your future wife. Let me get my popcorn ready because I know this shit is about to be a movie.”
“You should see her, man. She’s fine as hell, but it’s more than her looks that’s got me stuck.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know, but I’m drawn to her in ways I can’t explain. I genuinely want to know everything about her, and I didn’t want to leave her presence tonight. It’s crazy.”
“Yeah, you sound crazy.”
“Whatever. I’ll hit you up tomorrow.”
I ended the call before he could say anything else. A few minutes later, I was home and parked in the garage. When I got inside, I went straight to my place. I hadn’t interacted much with my family after they bum-rushed me, and I didn’t plan to tonight.
It was almost ten o’clock, so I showered and went to bed.
Unfortunately, after an hour of thinking about Malyah, I got my laptop and went to our company website.
I navigated to the corporate office and clicked on staff.
It was sorted by last name, not department, so I was grateful when I discovered Malyah’s last name was Brownlee.
After putting my laptop away, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, opened Flikstagram, and searched for her name. She happened to be the first profile that came up, and I knew it was her because her profile picture was the same one of her as a child that she used as the wallpaper for her phone.
Like a creep, I studied every picture on her page, memorizing every facial feature and curve of her body.
Malyah was beautiful, and in a matter of a few hours, I’d become obsessed with her.
She didn’t seem to be big on social media because she didn’t have a lot of posts, and the ones she had were posted several days, sometimes weeks apart.
Many of the posts showed her in the kitchen making the desserts she also posted pictures of. In the videos she posted, I could hear and see the love she had for preparing the desserts and how much joy it gave her.
I saved some pictures to my camera roll so I could easily access them, and I watched the videos repeatedly, memorizing all her mannerisms, but eventually, I stopped stalking her page and took my ass to sleep. At that point, she was so ingrained in my mind that she appeared in my dreams.
I slept later than usual the following morning, but I woke up refreshed and in a great mood.
After taking care of my hygiene and dressing in a lightweight jogging suit, I went upstairs to the kitchen.
I couldn’t avoid my parents and Gramps much longer, so I prepared myself for whatever they threw my way.
“Hey, Ma, Pops, Gramps,” I greeted before kissing each of them on the cheek.
“Good morning,” they chimed simultaneously.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d join us this morning, but I put your plate in the microwave,” my mother said.
“Thanks, Ma. I appreciate that.”
Without looking to see what was on my plate, I set the microwave for a minute and went to the fridge, grabbed the orange juice, and poured myself a glass.
“Are you out of your feelings now?” my father said.
“I was never in my feelings, Pops. I simply didn’t appreciate being ambushed.”
“You’re exaggerating,” Gramps said dismissively.
The microwave sounded, and I removed my plate, then stood at the island to eat my food.
“Come sit, Son,” my mother requested.
I didn’t want to, but I did. My gut told me they were still on some bullshit, and because I respected them so much, I wouldn’t knock all this shit off the table and leave.
“I realize we probably didn’t handle that conversation in the best way,” Pops admitted.
“You won’t get any arguments from me.”
My tone was short, and I didn’t hide my annoyance.
“It wasn’t an easy conversation to have, but it had to be done,” Ma added.
“I don’t see what my being married has to do with me running this business. Did Gramps and Grandma force y’all to get married?”
“They didn’t have to because by the time we were your age, we’d been married almost ten years,” Pops said.
“Kenzo, we give you your privacy and don’t get involved in your love life, but people talk,” Ma said.
I chuckled. “Do people talk, or are you referring to your nosy friends?”
“You’re pushing it, boy. Watch your tone when you're talking to us, especially my wife,” my father warned me.
“You can call them nosy all you want, but we keep each other informed. That’s how I know you’re still seeing Callie. Just because you don’t bring your sexual conquests here, we know you deal with numerous women,” my mother informed.
“It’s not that many, and I’m a single man, so why does it matter?”
“Because the last thing we need is one of your random women to pop up pregnant or make up something horrible about you when they find out they mean nothing to you. At least Callie is from a well-established family with a long legacy of Black excellence,” she continued.
I didn’t respond right away because I hated to admit that my mother had a point.
I was out here doing my thing and didn’t take any of the women I got pussy from seriously.
I only fucked around with them once or twice before dismissing them, but for some reason, I kept Callie’s conniving ass in rotation, even after what she pulled.
“We’re not uppity niggas who feel you must marry a woman from an affluent family, Son. We honestly don’t care where she’s from as long as she loves you.”
“Speak for yourself, dear. I think who he marries is very important, and we should—”
“Dinah, let’s be reasonable,” my father interjected.
“I am being reasonable, and since he doesn’t seem interested in settling down anytime soon, I’ve chosen a few women I think would make a great partner for him,” Ma said.
“I’m right here, in case y’all forgot,” I responded, waving my hand. “Gramps, do you agree with this?”
“Not fully, but your mother put a lot of thought and effort into this, so it won’t hurt you to go on a few dates. You’ll have a few months to get to know them before you have to pick one,” he responded.
When the idea of marrying Malyah came to me, I wasn’t 100% sold on the idea because it was extreme. After listening to my family, the idea didn’t sound so extreme anymore. If I didn’t marry Malyah, I might be forced to marry someone my mother chose, and I definitely didn’t want to do the latter.
“Remember, you can’t fully take over the company until you’re married, and if you need a little more encouragement, I’ve added a little more to your trust fund,” Gramps added when I didn’t respond.
Money didn’t move me, because I wasn’t broke by any means, but I’d been looking forward to receiving my trust fund when I turned thirty-five because there were a few stocks that I’d been monitoring that I wanted to invest in, as well as a few other business endeavors.
“Let me think about it,” was all I said in response to all that had been dumped on me this morning.