11. Sincere
A Couple of Days Later . . .
My phone buzzes, alerting me to the intercom and to Cynthia needing me for something. I pause my typing and push the button before I speak.
“Yes, ma’am.”
A smirk forms when I hear Cynthia huff into the receiver before she replies.
“I hate to disturb you, but you have a visitor, and no, they’re not on your calendar.”
My brows furrow and my forehead wrinkles as my eyes zero in on the bottom right of my monitor as I note the time. It’s eleven forty-six, and I have no clue who could be dropping in unannounced.
“Who is it?” I ask.
“They didn’t give me their name, but I think it could be important.” Cynthia’s voice isn’t one of fear, unease, or hesitation, which increases my confusion.
“Did you call security? You know what, never mind. I’ll be out in a second.” I hit the button again and then finish my last thought.
Then I close the file and take a second or two to force the unexpected person to wait a little longer.
Once I’m done, I stick my hand under my desk and remove my office weapon before I take it into my back and then stand to my full height.
I grab my suit jacket and slip my arms in it to conceal my gun.
With a grimace, I open my door and pull up short when my eyes connect with someone who can interrupt every day God allows me to see.
“Hi, Sincere.” Journee’s voice is light as her eyes twinkle with happiness and humor.
“How did you know where to find me?”
Journee’s smile becomes wider when I move closer to her as Cynthia pretends to resume whatever she was doing before I came out of my office.
“Jamarion.”
The word sounds breathy when it leaves her lips, and her eyes flash with unreadable expressions as I remove the space between us.
I was torn between kissing her gloss-covered lips and hugging her.
My heart rate increases as I stare into her eyes, and the temperature between us elevates the longer I look at her.
“I thought I would return your kindness with one of my own.”
Journee steps before she lifts a wicker basket, which forces me to disconnect my gaze from her to the brown box in her hand. A cheesy grin slides into place on my lips, and a low chuckle escapes my mouth.
“I hope you brought more than those peanut butter and jelly sandwiches you believe are delicious. I’m a meat-and-potatoes kind of man.”
“Trust me, I assumed you were. There aren’t any flimsy sandwiches in here. But can you take a break to have an impromptu lunch with me?”
I would cancel every meeting on my schedule to get some alone time with Journee.
So I ease the basket from her hand, grab her free hand, and escort her to my office without a word.
When she passes me to enter my space, my stomach leaps at the fruity scent that wafts into my nostrils.
Maybe if I’m lucky, Journee’s perfume will linger in here for the rest of the week.
I pull my gaze from Journee and look over my shoulder to address Cynthia.
“Cynthia, please hold all of my calls.”
“Will do. Enjoy.” Cynthia winks at me as I nod and enter my office before closing the door behind me.
The desire and urge to do a cartwheel hits me like a freight train when I see Journee pull out a blanket from the bag I hadn’t seen until now.
She unfolds it and lays it on the open area near my bookshelf.
For countless seconds, I simply watch her move without saying anything to me.
She pulls containers from the basket that now rests on the blanket and then slips out of her flats before her eyes land on me.
“If you have stinky feet, you can leave your shoes on.”
Her nose twitches as if she smells something foul in the air.
A thunderous laugh escapes my mouth as her eyes bounce from me to my shoe-covered feet.
Not long ago, I was uptight and wishing I had a different career choice while I recorded earlier events.
Now, my chest is light, and humor fills my body.
This impromptu lunch thing might need to become a weekly occurrence for us.
“I can promise you that you don’t have anything to worry about.” I slip my jacket from my arms and walk it back to my chair.
“I guess Cynthia was right, huh?”
I turn to Journee with wrinkled brows as she points toward my back, reminding me of the presence of my gun.
“You can never be too sure about surprise visitors around here. I pride myself on always being ready for whatever.”
“Let me find out there’s a little hood in you, Esquire.” Journee winks as she pats the empty space beside her on the blanket.
My heart leaps at hearing her call me ‘Esquire’ as I wordlessly move to the blanket and toe off my shoes, before I sit beside her without crowding her space. But damn if I don’t want to be in her skin.
“You do know that being hood is sometimes a mindset right? Humble beginnings don’t always mean that you have to be, or become, a product of your environment.
I spent the first ten years of my life in the projects.
But I will never pretend like some of those experiences didn’t rub off on me in one capacity or another. ”
“Up until two months of my pregnancy, I, too, lived in the projects, so no, you’ll get no judgment from me. But I am curious to know just how far your environment shaped you.”
“In due time. Now, what’s in these containers?”
Journee grins like she’s holding onto a secret that can only be told if blood is shed. She doesn’t provide a verbal answer before she opens the first container, and the smoky scent of barbecue fills the air. My stomach instantly reacts with a growl at the thought of food nearby.
“Looks like my pop-in was perfectly timed. I hope you like pulled pork, cole slaw, baked beans, cornbread muffins, peach cobbler, and sweet tea.” Journee’s eyes aren’t on mine as she opens the containers to reveal the contents of everything she just named.
From the smells now heavily coating my office, there’s no doubt that this food is homemade. My stomach is like a grizzly bear that’s trying to protect its cub as I take in the spread.
“Wow. Is everything we're doing going to be a one-up situation? I brought you a BLT, and you brought the kitchen sink. You ain’t right, and how am I going to work after eating a sleep-inducing meal?”
Journee giggles as she covers her mouth and shrugs. My mind swirls with ideas on how to make our upcoming date memorable. Just doing dinner feels cliché, and after this lunch, I feel like I need to step up my game.
“This isn’t a competition, Sincere. I just didn’t want you coming for my boring sandwich.”
“Mm-hmm. I hear you. Are you off today? Where’s Sweet Face?”
“No. I'm working. She’s with my parents. Would you like everything or only certain things?” She pulls out plates before her eyes meet mine as she awaits my response.
I gently take the plates from her. “You cooked or catered or something. So, how about you tell me what you want on your plate?”
Journee smirks, providing context or a rebuttal to my implication as she tells me what she would like to eat.
Once I’m done filling and handing her the plate, I move to doing the same for myself.
Not only does it all smell good, but it looks like I might need to sneak in a nap.
With my plate overflowing and on my lap, I say a quick blessing over everything and dig in.
“Oh, please give my compliments to the chef when you see him or her.” The baked beans dance on my tongue as the flavors instantly appeal to my taste buds.
“You’re welcome, Esquire. I made sure to stick a toe in those to give them an added sweetness.”
It takes every ounce of home training I have to keep the food in my mouth as I fight the laugh her words cause.
“Well, damn. Journee’s toe jam might be marketable. You did that.”
Journee’s giggles bounce off the walls, and I shake my head as I memorize the angelic sound.
Something foreign spreads across my chest as it warms. The heat from sitting close to Journee isn’t the reason my body temperature is rising.
But thankfully and respectfully, my dick stays calm and doesn’t make this experience an uncomfortable or creepy one.
“How has your morning been? When I couldn’t get you off my mind, I made an executive decision to let my manager handle the boutique and make you lunch. I had to share some with Jamarion’s greedy butt to get your location, though.”
Hold up! Hold up! Wait?
“Uh, I’m going to need you to run back the second part of your statements. I’m not sure that I heard you correctly and want to make sure that this sweet and tangy barbecue sauce isn’t affecting my hearing.”
Journee shamelessly licks the sauce from her palm where some has fallen as she shrugs like her words aren’t serious or record scratch capable.
In all of my years and time spent in this office, this moment feels like something I need to catalog in my memory bank.
I’m also still hopeful that Journee’s perfume will outlast the food aroma.
“I don’t have an explanation. I enjoy talking to you, so I decided to do something about it.”
“I’m glad you did. But rest easy, we would have talked today even if you didn’t show up. I too, enjoy talking to you. Although I’ll admit that seeing you in person is so much better.” I wink as I finish what’s on my plate.
“Touche, Esquire.”
The rest of our lunch is seamless as our conversation flows without pause.
Journee’s pop-up confirms my desire to pursue and date her.
A woman with a sense of humor who brightens my day is someone I know will benefit my life.
The more we talk, the more I want to see the light in her eyes and the smile on her lips.
The hunger pains have left but have been replaced with something far more satisfying, and I’m not talking about the delicious food she fed me.
After our first date, I’m going to have to plan something for Journee, Sweet Face, and me.
I want to determine whether our connections are a fluke.
Sweet Face is a gem, and being with Journee means not forgetting about her.
A woman with a kid has never been on my agenda or radar, but now mother and daughter have gotten under my skin.
Both make it impossible for me to ignore.