Ameer (The Brothers Ali Book 5) Page 9

  Cheri took the first available seat, pissed because she rocked back and forth on her way to it because the driver was so impatient. She sat down hard on the seat, bumping into the two people on each side of her that she squeezed in between. There was no apology forthwith from Cheri. They asses should have moved over when they saw her getting ready to sit down. She blew out hard through pursed lips, relieved that she was on her way to work, on her way to see Ameer. Just the thought of him shifted Cheri’s mood. When Ameer was in town, he was so consistent she could track him and plan by accordingly. There was nothing on his calendar to suggest he would be out of town. Before she eliminated it from Shannon’s access, Cheri made sure to email herself a copy.

  She looked at her watch again, gauging how much time she had to meet Ameer. Every time the bus stopped before it got to Ali International, a scowl appeared on Cheri’s face. Every stop wasted moments, precious moments she didn’t have time to waste. Cheri was on her feet before the bus stopped on the block of the Ali building. She held on tight to the overhead railing as the driver pulled the bus to the curb. When the doors swung open, she was already in front of it, pushing the door, assisting its opening. It would be easy to exit the bus and walk right in the front door of the building, but if Cheri did that, she wouldn’t get her moment with Ameer. She detoured to the side of the building, walking carefully down the steep ramp that led to the underground garage.

  It didn’t matter that she didn’t have a car to park there. What mattered is that he did. Cheri could feel a slight burn in her thighs as she leaned back against her forward moving legs, but the pain was worth it to see him. When Cheri was on level ground and her eyes adjusted to the darkness natural to the garage, Cheri tracked for Ameer’s designated parking spot. The car wasn’t there. The face of her watch was hard to see in the shadows, but that didn’t stop Cheri from trying. She squinted, desperately trying to read the lines marking the hour and the minutes. Did she miss something on his schedule? Did he change it and she didn’t know? That’s why she needed to be where Shannon was so she could know those things. Shannon didn’t deserve to know more than Cheri did. Maybe Ameer hadn’t yet arrived if he was even in town. He was never late, though, like never. Then Cheri spiraled on that thought as she slowly made her way in the direction of the elevator. What would cause an otherwise timely man to be tardy? But late was better than not coming at all, right? That’s all Cheri could hope for. She had been through so much for this moment. She wouldn’t get in the elevator until she had some sense of whether Ameer was late or not coming at all.

  She was so focused inside her own head, Cheri barely heard the car coming down the incline into the garage. It was only when the headlights broke through the shadowy darkness that she paid attention. She leaned against the closest wall falling out of the headlights view. Cheri wanted to see the make and model of the vehicle without being immediately seen. It wouldn’t be uncommon for another person to be in the garage. But because she knew why she was there, Cheri felt like she needed to hide herself. When she saw the vehicle, the smile that moved across her mouth and brightened her eyes was real. It was Ameer’s Land Rover. She knew that truck anywhere, as well as his other vehicles, but that was not the point.

  Smoothing out her clothes, Cheri prepared to meet him, not at his car, but after he passed where she clung to the wall. Her eyes never left Ameer. She watched him exit the truck, close the door, open the back-passenger door, and retrieve his Italian leather briefcase that had his initials engraved in silver that stood out beautifully against the black leather. She heard the stroke of Ameer’s custom shoes against the floor of the garage. Then she heard someone else’s shoes dribbling over the sound of his. The strike was lighter, feminine. Cheri turned in the direction of the sound. Even in the dark, she knew who it was.

  “Bitch,” she hissed, seeing Shannon sashaying towards the elevator.

  “Good morning, Mr. Ali,” Shannon sounded as she and he converged on the path to the elevator.

  “Good morning, Ms. Young,” Ameer replied.

  “Thanks for the parking pass,” Shannon said as they walked in sync toward the bank of elevators.

  “It’s the least I can do for you putting up with me these past few days.”

  “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Ali.”

  I’m sure it has, Cheri boiled. She didn’t come out from her hiding place until their backs were to her. The experience had already been ruined for her because of the presence of the intruder, but Cheri would make the most of it, despite Shannon being there.

  “Good morning, Mr. Ali,” Cheri smiled, “Ms. Young.” Her tone in addressing Shannon was decidedly different, but Shannon refused to let her day begin with Cheri getting on her nerves.

  “Good morning, Ms. Jones,” Ameer acknowledged.

  “Good morning, Ms. Jones,” Shannon said, looking over her shoulder and smiling. That turn brought her ever so close to coming into physical contact with Ameer. Cheri knew she did that shit on purpose. When the bell dinged announcing the arrival of the elevator, it took everything in Cheri not to push passed Shannon and take her rightful place next to Ameer. But Cheri showed restraint, as hard as it was. Ameer saved the day, well technically, he saved Shannon’s ass, as he held the door open for both ladies to enter the car.

  “After you,” he smiled.

  Cheri took her time in passing him, making sure to inhale when she did. His signature masculine scent filled her nostrils, and she closed her eyes to enjoy it for a moment longer. When she opened them, Shannon was staring at her. Cheri had no intention of backing down from the nonverbal intimidation this trick was trying. Cheri stared back, unflinchingly. The tension in the small car rose exponentially as the two women faced off. Words weren’t even necessary because their eyes said everything that needed to be said. Cheri could feel the shackles on her back rising with angst from the challenge the weakling offered. Cheri narrowed her eyes even more, her brow wrinkling on her forehead. She needed Shannon to know she meant business. Ameer stepped into the car, and that was enough for Cheri to disregard the intruder and focus her attention on who mattered most. Before Cheri could, Shannon repositioned herself next to Ameer in front of the car.

  “What floor did you need, Ms. Jones,” she asked, again pivoting close to Ameer as she did so. Cheri cut her eyes again.

  “Eighteen,” Cheri replied. She watched a smile ease across Shannon’s filthy lips as she turned, pushing the button to mark Cheri’s departure. It would come to soon, Cheri’s exit, leaving Shannon alone with Ameer. Cheri couldn’t help looking up at the numbers as they increased. Unlike most days, she would be relieved if the car had to stop on a floor to pick up ascending passengers. But she would have no such luck. The car moved unobstructed to the eighteenth floor.

  Dammit!

  She hadn’t had enough time to thoroughly enjoy him. The car door opened, and Shannon willingly stepped aside to allow Cheri to exit without interference or a reason to prolong her exit. Ameer extended his hand across the opened door.

  “Have a good day,” Shannon called as the doors started to close.

  Bitch!

  Chapter Fourteen

  She couldn’t think straight. Her thoughts raced and circled and double backed and circled again. Cheri was pissed to the highest level of pissivity. She stormed down the hallway towards the secretarial pool; fist bound tightly by her sides. Dorothy had been up Cheri’s ass since Cheri confronted her in the break room about her poor decision making. She knew she couldn’t go into the secretarial pool in the state she was in. Dorothy would have a field day fucking with her. Thankfully, the bathroom was on the way. Cheri forced the door open and stormed in. The sound of her heels against the linoleum floor boomed loudly, echoing against the painted, decorated walls. Cheri knew she had to get it together, but that didn’t make reigning in her wary emotions any easier. The bitch swung back, scored points, and Cheri couldn’t stand it.

  “Get it together, girl,” Cheri uttered roughly, running her fingers t
hrough her knotty curls. She grabbed her hair with both hands pulling it, causing pain that Cheri hoped would help her focus. She padded in a circle, repeating the phrase, “get it together, girl, get it together.” It wasn’t helping, not at all. Cheri continued to move in a circle, halting when she saw her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes widened as she saw how crazed she look. But she wasn’t crazy.

  I’m just upset, that’s all. Shannon’s got me all upset. It’s all her fault I’m like this.

  She didn’t want to see herself that way anymore. What if Ameer saw her like that? Cheri didn’t look at herself anymore; instead, turning away from the mirror and easing her fingers from her hair. From memory, she patted it in place, reshaping it to what it was supposed to look like. With intent, Cheri relaxed the muscles in her face and took some deep breaths to calm down.

  Inhale slow. Exhale slower. Inhale slow. Exhale slower.

  It took a few minutes, but Cheri could feel her heartbeat returning to normal. She took a few more breaths before facing herself again. She hadn’t done a masterful job on her hair, but with a few pats, she shaped it to passable. As she lowered her arms, Cheri caught a glimpse at her watch.

  “Fuck!”

  She had to move quickly. She was late. This time when she approached the bathroom door, she swung the door open as wide as she had the first time. Cheri was so focused on getting to her desk that she didn’t look in both directions coming out of the ladies’ room. She was laser-focused, turning to the right and heading for the secretarial pool as fast as her stocky legs could carry her. Maybe Dorothy wouldn’t notice. Maybe Dorothy hadn’t made her rounds yet. Cheri scurried.

  “Ms. Jones!”

  Cheri halted like a deer trapped by headlights. She knew that bark anywhere, but she refused to give her supervisor the satisfaction of seeing her sweat. Before turning to face her accuser, Cheri plastered a broad smile on her face and then methodically turned to face her.

  “Good morning, Dorothy.”

  “You’re late.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  When Cheri didn’t deny it nor immediately protest, Dorothy was taken off her game. She wasn’t sure what to do with that. But she refused to give Cheri the satisfaction of seeing her sweat.

  “Yes, you are, and I have a write up with your name on it.”

  Dorothy lifted her nose into the air and walked past Cheri like she wasn’t even standing there.

  The spiral Cheri pulled herself from to step into the hallway was the one she found herself reeling in again. Spinning on her heels to walk toward her desk, the floor seemed to tilt, and she had to sidestep to regain her balance. Everything was out of control.

  Ameer was on a roll, handling business deals, approving expenditures for new environmental endeavors, and sailing through his conference calls getting everything he wanted out of the deals.

  “You are such a charmer, Ameer.”

  “I know, Iola, but, in this situation, we both win,” Ameer replied.

  “Good to talk to you again.”

  “You, too, Iola, and I’ll send the paperwork right over.”

  Ameer heard a knock at the door when he hung up the phone.

  “Come in,” he called out as he set the phone down.

  Shannon opened the door but peeked in to make sure it was okay even though he’d given her confirmation to enter.

  “Yes, Ms. Young,” Ameer replied, waving her completely in.

  “Mr. Ali, I wanted to let you know your three o-clock asked to be rescheduled to early next week, citing some emergency.”

  “That’s fine,” Ameer replied. “I trust you with the schedule,” he continued. “Pencil them in as requested.”

  “Will do,” Shannon smiled.

  “Anything else,” Ameer asked.

  “No, that’s all, unless you need something.”

  Ameer took a second to check the rest of his day. With his three o’clock rescheduled, his afternoon was clear.

  “I’m going out. I’ll have my cell phone with me, but I would prefer that you take messages,” Ameer said as he lifted himself from the chair. “Anyone I want to speak to already has my number.”

  “No problem, Mr. Ali,” Shannon agreed, following behind him as he crossed the threshold into her office area. “And if there’s an emergency?”

  “You have my number.”

  “I’ll take care of everything, Mr. Ali,” Shannon said as she took her seat behind the desk.

  “I have no doubt you will.”

  That’s all Shannon needed to hear as she watched her new boss stroll out of the office door.

  It didn’t take Ameer long before he was in his truck. He activated the GPS and plugged in the information. By the time he pulled out of the garage and into the early afternoon sunshine, the automated GPS gave him the first direction. Ameer followed them to a tee. He didn’t want to make one misstep that would delay his arrival. Ameer thought about their conversation last night and smiled with remembered pleasure. He pressed down on the gas pedal a little more to get to her faster.

  “You have arrived at your destination.”

  Ameer’s eyes trailed across the street to the sign. His eyes lit up when he read the words Siobhan spoke to him the night before, Move with Me.

  When Ameer opened the door, a smooth rhythmic beat pulsed through the dance space. He expected to see Siobhan standing in the front of the room leading her students. That’s not what he saw. There were lots of people in the studio, but they were all in a circle he couldn’t see through. What he did see were men and women grooving to the same sounds he heard. Ameer stood back for a while until curiosity got the best of him. He stepped closer, not wanting to disturb the instructional process, but Ameer did want to see what was going on. He found his way to the back of the group. Because of his height, Ameer had little difficulty seeing over those standing in front of him.

  When his eyes found Siobhan, Ameer was instantaneously transfixed, unable to take his eyes off her. He saw how the man held Siobhan, closer than close, their bodies inextricably connected, her body moving in direct response to his. Siobhan let him lead, and she followed, the sway of her hips enticing him to move her again. She moved with such grace, with exquisite control of her body. The dance was sexier than any tango; any rumba Ameer had ever seen. Maybe it was sexier because Siobhan was part of it. He turned her, revealing Siobhan’s thick thighs and shapely calves. Ameer’s eyes were sharp and assessing, trailing every inch of her form, from the suggestion of nubile curves beneath her dress past her slim waist and agilely rounded hips to her legs he dared to expose. That’s when she saw him, raising her eyes to find Ameer watching her. Surprise registered on her winsome face. But that was quickly replaced with an unconsciously mischievous smile that curved her mouth. There was a spark of some indefinable emotion in Ameer’s eyes that drew a more intense gaze from Siobhan, if only for a split second.

  And when the music stopped, and the crowd applauded, Ameer remained smitten, mesmerized by her.

  “Alright, enough, enough,” Siobhan smiled, trying to shush her students who continued to clap and applaud the demonstration. “That’s it for today, everyone. Great class.”

  “Good stuff, Siobhan, thanks for the lesson.”

  “Thank you,” Siobhan replied.

  Ameer watched the exchange. Then he watched as Siobhan walked over to a table, picked up a towel and patted herself dry. Ameer had never asked Siobhan about Messiah’s father. They never talked about her relationship status at all. But talking about another man wasn’t why Ameer came. Seeing Siobhan in the arms of another man wasn’t what he expected. Yet, Ameer wasn’t so easily dissuaded from why he did come. She was so surprised to see him in her studio. Even as she dried off, Siobhan felt the potency of Ameer’s gaze raking over her. She turned to face him.

  Sauntering, her hips, swaying as though the music still played, Siobhan approached him.

  “Surprised to see me?” Ameer’s mellow baritone edged with a control that defied the smolder
ing depths of his anthracite eyes.

  “I am,” Siobhan smiled, observing him with a sweet musing look.

  The last of the students left the building, waving, and saying goodbye to their instructor. Siobhan was responsive, waving, and saying bye, without taking her eyes off Ameer.

  “So,” she began, a sheepish grin spreading across her face.

  “That dance,” Ameer uttered, his voice dark, dangerous, liquid, with restrained sexiness. Or maybe that’s how Siobhan perceived it, heard it because Ameer was just that alluring. It wasn’t a question, more like a statement that caused Siobhan to flush heatedly. She could only imagine how the dance looked to him.

  “The kizomba?” She offered. “What about it,” her velvet edged voice taunting him.

  He came close, his stride smooth and elegant, looking down at Siobhan intently, so close until Ameer left her no room at all. She could not retreat, even if she wanted. Siobhan took a deep, steadying breath as a tiny tremor ran surreptitiously over her mocha skin. Ameer’s hooded eyes were dark and earnest as they sought hers, darkening even more dangerously as they found Siobhan’s eyes regarding him with a speculative gaze.

  “Teach me,” he said in a deep voice that felt to Siobhan like it vibrated along her every nerve, titillating her senses completely.

  The look in Ameer’s onyx eyes, the way he made her feel with his nearness, how could Siobhan say no. She didn’t. Easing away from him, unconsciously sauntering like a dancer; her toes pointed before her heels landed, she reached the stereo system. Finding just the right music, Siobhan lifted onto her toes as she turned around to face the man that made her heart flutter uncontrollably. Ameer moved in her direction as she moved in his. They met in the middle of the dance floor as the bass and the treble and the drums trilled out a beat that was slow and sensual and sexy.

  Siobhan stood in front of Ameer, in the place where she felt the most comfortable, the most free, the most authentic. Her warm brown eyes drank in the sensuality of his physique, the power of Ameer’s presence. This time it was Siobhan who rakingly appraised him. And it was Ameer who didn’t miss her obvious examination striking a vibrant chord, coiling a delicate slender thread of connectivity between them. She started to move, only her hips. The grace of movement juxtaposed against the swell of Siobhan’s Nubian curves captivated the fullness of Ameer’s attention once again. When she reached out with her delicate hands, Ameer did not hesitate to fold his hands into hers. But that’s not where Siobhan wanted Ameer’s hands to be. She guided his hands, rhythmically to her hips, and she steadied them there. She gradually lifted her eyes stealthily up his length, Ameer’s muscular arms bare, his waist tight and toned, the rich outline of his shoulders straining the fabric of his button-down shirt, until they came to rest on his handsome face, chiseled, angular jaw, full lips, balanced nose, and intense raven eyes.