3. Khaleya
I stood in front of Blackwell Bank, the downtown branch.
It was one of the most well-known banks in our area. It was Black-owned and known for being advocates for small Black companies. Which is the reason I scheduled a meeting with the loan department here.
I closed my eyes briefly and said a silent prayer that everything I’d been working for would work itself out.
All I needed was for them to approve this loan, so I could get the warehouse space to take Stamped by Khaleya bigger.
My audience had been wanting more. But my living room and bedroom could only handle but so many orders.
“Ma’am, can we help you?” I heard a soft voice ask.
I opened my eyes to see a green-eyed woman with red hair and a warm smile. She was holding the door open, waiting for me to respond. I cleared my throat and dropped my hands to my sides.
“I know I look crazy as hell standing out here. I’m Khaleya Mathers. I have a meeting with a Mrs. Emeila Pittman. I hope I am saying her name right.”
I held out my hand for her to shake, which she quickly shook with a smile.
“You said her name perfectly fine. Allow me to lead you to the waiting room. I’ll let her know you’re here.”
I nodded and gave her a tight-lipped smile, then followed her inside. I wasn’t normally this damn nervous. It had to be because this was the next big step I needed to take my business to the next level.
I followed her to the elevators, and she led me on, then clicked the button for the third floor. We stood in a comfortable silence when the bell rang, letting us know the doors were opening. She stepped off first and led me to a waiting room that had a few couches across from the glass offices.
“Take a seat and I’ll let her know you’re here. Would you like some water?”
“No, I’m fine. That would only make this anxious feeling worse.”
She smiled and walked toward the offices across from where I was seated. My eyes easily tracked her movements to the mature woman with gray hair who smiled up at her. She was in the office with two men, one of whom I hadn’t noticed until he turned and looked in my direction.
My heart seemed to pick up its pace. It seemed like we saw each other at the same time. He ran his tongue across his lower lip, then winked in my direction.
“It’s just my luck he had to be this Blackwell. I should have chosen another fucking bank,” I said beneath my breath, then looked away.
Blackwell was a common last name. At least, that’s what I needed to tell myself to stay in my current state of delusion. What other Blackwell could afford a private jet with a fully staffed kitchen and all the amenities Premier Wings could offer?
I brought the palm of my hand to my forehead and leaned forward.
I stayed that way for a few minutes until I heard someone clear their throat.
I didn’t move quickly—I knew who it was.
The smell of his cologne hardened my nipples on command.
I released a breath, then looked up at his smiling face.
He was in cream slacks, a white button-down with a tie, and a jacket to match the slacks.
Everything was tailored to fit him.
“Ms. Khaleya, it’s nice seeing you again. I told you I’d get that pleasure at least one more time.”
I couldn’t hold back my smile even if I tried. I rolled my eyes and looked away briefly, only to look back and find him flashing that arrogant smirk I now connected with only him. The crazy thing was that I’d only been in his presence twice, but I guess that was more than enough.
“Just your luck, huh?” I asked.
He clasped his hands in front of him and chuckled, before licking his lower lip.
“Nah, I don’t believe in luck. I knew it would happen, and so did you. You just don’t want to admit it.”
I rolled my eyes. “If you say so, Mr. Blackwell. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a meeting I’m getting ready to go into. I don’t want to miss it. Big dreams and all. Some of us still have to make something of ourselves.”
He stuffed his hands into his slacks and nodded.
“I’m glad you mentioned your meeting. That’s with me. Will you follow me this way?” he said, gesturing toward the elevators.
My eyes widened as I looked around him toward the woman I thought I was supposed to be speaking with. There’s no way this damn man is qualified enough to tell me whether I deserved a loan or not. He couldn’t be.
I glanced back in his direction with wide eyes.
“Don’t be so shocked, Doll. Follow me—I have another meeting in forty minutes. I want you to get your entire time slot.”
I kept my mouth closed and stood to follow behind him. My mind seemed to run a mile a minute about how this meeting would go. I silently followed him down the hall until we reached the large office straight ahead.
He pulled open the door, and I stepped around him.
“Would you like a bottle of water?” he asked.
Mr. Blackwell walked around me toward the minibar on the opposite side of the room. I shook my head, forgetting his back was turned, but he caught the movement anyway, glancing over his shoulder in my direction with a lift of his brow.
I cleared my throat and licked my lips. “No, I’m fine. I would like to get right to it if you don’t mind.”
He nodded and took a bottle of Fiji from the fridge before gesturing with his hands toward the seat in front of his desk. Then he took the one across from me. I hadn’t noticed the folder in his hands when we first walked in there.
Not until he flipped it open and went through the many pages of my personal information did I understand why. I don’t know why it made me feel naked. It wasn’t as if the other agent wasn’t getting ready to do the same damn thing. It was because it was him, simple as that.
I rubbed my now moist hands against my black slacks. Then I glanced around the room at his many plaques and degrees. He even had pictures of him with an older couple I assumed were his parents, since he looked like the perfect mixture of them both.
He’d clearly inherited his father’s height, jawline, and complexion, while the color of his eyes, his smile, and the smooth texture of his hair came straight from his mother. I smiled, noticing just how much love was all over his walls. It made me relax.
I cleared my throat. “So, do you usually take on loan meetings with women by yourself?” I asked.
He finally looked up at me from going over the documents in front of him with a lift of his brow. His face gave away every emotion he felt—I wondered if he knew that.
“As opposed to what else?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes. “You know in this day and age you need another person in the room when you’re of the other sex. People will say anything, and then you have a lawsuit on your hands.”
He chuckled and closed my folder, then leaned back in his chair. Then he stroked his chin with a tilt of his head. His scrutinizing glare caused me to adjust how I was seated. But I held his stare, not allowing myself to back down.
“Well, Ms. Mathers, do I have something to be concerned about with you?” he asked, and leaned forward, still holding my stare.
“Uh, no—”
“I can get you a buffer if you feel you can’t handle being alone with me,” he interrupted, then leaned forward to pick up his phone.
My hand shot out, stopping him before I could stop it. Mine now covered his, stopping him from lifting the phone from the base. The heat of his skin against my own caused me to pull my hand back like I had been burned.
“Sorry, you don’t need to do that. Can we get started?”
He smirked at me with a nod, then flipped the folder open once more.
“As I looked through your folder, I noticed you don’t have much collateral. What would make us feel secure with giving you this amount of money?” he asked.
His expression was now a lot more serious than it had been moments ago. I released a breath and pulled my shoulders back so I stood taller.
“My sales reports should be reason enough, and my projections. I know if I had enough capital, I could make a big difference with my business. I sell out anytime I do a drop—it’s just not enough to really take the risk I need.”
He nodded, then closed the folder with a release of a breath. He clasped his hands in front of him, then tilted his head to the side for a moment.
“When I spoke to you on the plane, I heard your passion for this loud and clear. I want to be able to give you this loan, but it wouldn’t be a sound decision, especially for the amount you have down.
I can give you five thousand, but your interest rate would be crazy high.
Which wouldn’t be a help to you. I don’t want to discourage you, but I don’t think any bank would give you the amount you’re looking for. ”
My heart beat erratically in my chest as I repeated the words he had said over again in my head. I wanted to be pissed, but I couldn’t. I knew what he was saying was true. The reason I had come to Blackwell Bank was because they usually took a risk on smaller businesses.
I pushed my chair back from the desk and started to stand.
“Thank you for taking the time to look over my proposal. Can I think about the five-thousand-dollar offer?” I asked.
He shrugged. “You can, or you can have a seat and listen to the other offer I have for you.”
I slowly sat back down and nodded for him to continue. The least I could do was listen if he was trying to find another way to help me.
“Now, allow me to speak straight through. I might answer any questions you may have by the end of my speech.”
I nodded and waited.
“Now, I know this isn’t normal practice, but I have a personal dilemma that I think you could be very helpful with. I have a wedding I am supposed to be attending in the next two months. I need a date—”
“I know damn well you aren’t trying to offer me money to fuck with you?” I asked, with wide eyes and a little more bass in my voice than usual because he had me fucked up.
“No, nothing like that. Allow me to finish, and I promise you will understand what I am looking for and how this will benefit you. Now, can I continue?” he asked.
I nodded for him to continue as I crossed my arms against my chest.