Getting His Game Back Read online

  “You understand her being upset that Andrew is gay?” Vanessa didn’t check her tone.

  Her grandmother scrunched her nose.

  “No! I don’t care what he does with his dick.”

  “Blegh, Max,” Arletta said. “Don’t put that in my mind.”

  Maxine rolled her eyes. “I mean, I can understand Debra being upset about him being with a white man.”

  Vanessa let her head loll back to rest on her chair. Then she thought better of it, picked up her glass, chugged a good mouthful, and let her head fall back again.

  “Ma-Max,” she sighed. “Do we have to do this today?”

  Arletta retrieved the Chardonnay, topped off Vanessa’s glass, then her own. Vanessa lifted her glass to clink with Arletta’s but didn’t raise her head.

  “Look,” her grandmother said. “You know I am all for people being with who they want. But my lived experience—and yours, Ness—bears out that interracial dating is unwise.”

  Vanessa schooled her features, her love and respect for her grandmother outweighing her annoyance. It had been almost a decade since the only experience Ma-Max knew about, and she still felt the sting of her own stupidity. But that was unfair. She’d been too young to understand all the dynamics at play, and now, with time, she’d forgiven Tony for being a kid, at the mercy of his parents. Though forgiveness didn’t erase the hurt. She knocked back another mouthful, not looking at either woman. Arletta sighed.

  “Max, when are you gonna let this go?” she asked. “Two men—one a boy, actually—were assholes. When in the history of human life have most men not had asshole tendencies?” She sat up in her chair, making a show of looking out over Maxine’s yard, shielding her eyes as though she were searching the horizon. “If I threw a rock right now, I’m sure I’d hit at least three assholes, so at some point you’re gonna have to give this a rest.”

  “Yes, Ma-Max,” Vanessa said. “I think it’s time to leave the past in the past. At least for me.”

  “You were broken, baby. You can’t expect me to forget that,” her grandmother said. Arletta sighed again. Maxine shot her a look, continuing. “It pays to be vigilant in matters of the heart. And based on the standing of the families at that school, I’d have expected more gallantry.”

  “Money buys class now?” Arletta asked. “Better not tell Ness’s parents. All these years with Doctors Without Borders must have knocked them down several social pegs.”

  Vanessa’s eyes nearly shot out of her head. Arletta wasn’t pulling any punches. Maxine’s eyes narrowed to slits.

  “What did you say?” she asked.

  Arletta relaxed into her seat and folded her arms.

  “You’re being an idiot. Been going on about that boy for years, as though Vanessa went looking to get hurt.”

  Vanessa tried to melt into the pattern of her patio chair.

  Maxine gave Arletta another hard glare, then turned to Vanessa, features softening. “Baby, I know you didn’t do anything wrong. Other than hiding that boy from your parents and me at first. You should never feel like you have to hide things from your family. Having to hide means the person isn’t good enough for you anyway.”

  “Yes, Ma-Max. I know. We’ve been over this a few hundred times.”

  Maxine covered Vanessa’s hand with hers and squeezed.

  “You’re right, baby, we have. I’m sorry. You know how I get when I worry.”

  “I know. Although I’m sure you can understand if I don’t drag a man home the second we’ve met, right? I’m picky. It’s gonna take a lot for me to be sure I like him enough to bring home.” Thank God I never introduced Rick to Ma-Max. That latest foray into interracial dating was a nightmare.

  “Picky. Acorns don’t fall far from the tree,” Arletta said.

  “What are you implying now, Letta?” Maxine asked.

  “You’re picky, your son is picky, so naturally your granddaughter is picky. A trait that can get downright insufferable with age.”

  Vanessa barely got her mouthful swallowed before she choked.

  Maxine squinted. “Are you trying to say I’m difficult?”

  “I’m not trying to. I’m saying flat out: You’re a pain in the ass, Max.”

  Vanessa took a slow breath to tamp down her laughter. She returned to her meal as the bickering started up again. Apart from managing Andrew’s discomfort, the trip to Vancouver had gone quite well. She was proud of the balance she’d struck—a successful TED Talk and some time for herself. She’d scheduled one day more than necessary, a choice she intended to repeat. For the past two years, she’d been going a mile a minute between app design and business management software consulting. It was time to slow down, to savor what she was doing and the lifestyle it allowed her. And while it was fun, jetting around, proving that people’s notions of who belonged in tech were outdated, she was starting to miss having some time at home. Well, home for her. She cringed, glancing at Ma-Max. She’d disown Vanessa for referring to Detroit as “home.” At least she’d returned to the family home in Bloomington today. With her parents still on their most recent mission, maybe it was time to get back into the rhythm of Sunday Lunches with Ma-Max every two weeks. Her fork wavered as she relaxed her grip, itching to pick up her phone and check her agenda, but she didn’t want to get caught.

  Kathryn, Ma-Max’s housekeeper, came by to clear the plates for dessert and Vanessa snatched the few seconds of distraction to take a look. Things were pretty open in two weeks’ time, maybe…She stopped on the appointment for her next haircut and couldn’t help but smile. Her next haircut with Khalil.

  What’s the deal with that guy?

  Wavy, dark hair, golden-olive skin. Tall and broad-shouldered: her absolute catnip. She should have picked up on the fact that he wasn’t a “white boy–white boy” before he’d said so. She might have guessed Latino but wouldn’t have placed him correctly. Not with those green eyes that got so intense while he focused on cutting her hair. Beautiful and professional. She’d nearly memorized every inch of decor in that shop to avoid staring at his reflection in the mirror. Hot and masculine, he might as well have been a model with that angular jaw, those dimples, and those crazy-sexy lips. She pursed hers, letting out a stream of calming air, thinking of his yet again. Made zero sense for a man to be so blessed in the lip and eyelash department when so many women were wandering around without.

  “…want to, Ness.”

  Maxine’s voice snapped her back to the present. She glanced at Arletta, hoping for a clue, but she was relishing the first bite of her chocolate mousse. Vanessa tucked her phone under her thigh.

  “I’m sorry, Ma-Max?”

  “There’s still time to join us on the cruise this autumn,” Ma-Max said.

  “Oh. Don’t think I can take that much time off.” A transatlantic crossing was tempting, but Ma-Max would only do a roundtrip, and Vanessa wasn’t ready to spend three weeks at sea. Although, if her developers stayed on schedule and Alphastone kept following her advice, she’d close on the biggest deal of her life and have more than enough reason to celebrate.

  “All right,” Ma-Max said. “But let me know soon if you change your mind.”

  Vanessa nodded, retrieving her spoon for dessert. The corner of her phone poked into her thigh, and she shifted to reduce the pressure. She couldn’t do a cruise, but she could certainly enjoy the view the next time she got her hair cut.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Vanessa checked the clock over her monitor for the fifth time in as many minutes, then turned her attention back to the end of quarter review for her London investors.

  Louis, her team lead, began winding the meeting down, and she returned her notepad and pen to their places.

  “Thanks again for your time. You’ll have the updated report by the end of the week,” Louis said, wrapping up the chat.

  Vanessa nodded and clicked her mic
rophone back on. “Yes, thanks, everyone. I’m here if you have any questions.” She finished the rest of her responsibilities on autopilot. After replying to her mom’s latest email about the antiviral work she and Vanessa’s father were doing in Cambodia, Vanessa was ten minutes ahead of schedule to get to see Khalil—to get to her appointment—but her anxiety started to inch up.

  Would be better to be a couple minutes late. Don’t want to look too eager.

  * * *

  —

  A two-toned chime announced Vanessa’s arrival. It was midmorning and the shop’s first appointment, a time she’d been happy he suggested as she liked avoiding the rush of a busy barbershop. Black barbershops had always been places where she could get a quality cut, though she disliked intruding on the male-dominated domain. It went both ways: She’d be annoyed if some random guys crashed her time at the nail salon.

  “Morning, Vanessa.”

  Khalil was in his chair, angled toward the door, sliding his phone back into the pocket of his vest.

  “Morning, Khalil,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as strained as it felt. How was it possible for him to be even sexier than she remembered? He stood, unfolding those long legs, showing off his broad shoulders with the way he supported himself through the movement with a hand on each armrest. She froze as he took a few steps toward her, his hand extended for an awkward shake. His smile sparkled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

  “Can I take your jacket?” he asked, his hand still out.

  “Oh, right. Yes,” she said, snapping out of her stupor. Sliding it off her shoulders gave her an excuse to look away and catch her breath.

  “How are you?” he asked as he hung it up.

  “Good, you?”

  “Great. Ready?” he asked.

  She nodded and conspicuously did not look at his butt as he led the way back to his chair. Her peripheral vision had a mind of its own, but thankfully she didn’t follow it. Once she’d reached the chair, she remembered that there were mirrors in front of and behind her; no way he wouldn’t have caught her checking him out.

  “How was your trip?” he asked, draping the cape over her. “Vancouver, right?”

  She smiled. “It was good, kind of you to remember.”

  The chime sounded again and the other barber stepped inside, two cups of coffee in a carrier, a brown paper bag in the other hand.

  “Morning, Dare,” Khalil said. “Put mine there?” He tipped his chin at the edge of his station.

  “Got it,” he said. “Hey, how are you?” he asked Vanessa.

  “Good. It’s Darius, right?”

  “It is.” He looked at Khalil. “Didn’t realize you had an appointment first thing. Could have given me a heads-up so I could have brought something for the lady.” He put Khalil’s cup down, looked at Vanessa’s reflection, and shot her a wink. “Sorry I can’t offer you a coffee; our maker’s broken. Haven’t had any of mine though, want to split it?”

  “I’m good,” she said. “Thanks.” Adjusting herself on the seat, she almost missed the glare Khalil shot Darius. And the shrug and smirk he got in return. Khalil tracked his colleague as he went into the back, eyes narrowed. Vanessa asked herself what sort of magical barbershop she’d landed in with two hot guys working there, and at least one with a sense of humor. Then Khalil caught her attention, a hand on each of her shoulders, his voice soft and warm.

  “Shape-up like last time, or are you in the mood for something different?”

  I could definitely be in the mood for something different. Tall, broad-shouldered, French and Algerian…Stop it. You can look. Nothing wrong with enjoying the sight of a handsome man. But you are not in the mood for anything.

  “Um…why don’t you surprise me?” she asked. His eyes widened and she caught a tint in his cheeks.

  “Really?” he asked. “You trust me that much already?”

  And she failed—completely and totally failed—at not running her gaze down his chest and arm, her treasonous eyes even shooting a look over her shoulder at the reflection of his ass in the mirror behind her. She ran the tip of her tongue inside her bottom lip and looked back up at him, not missing the surprise in his eyes. She tilted her head to the side, trying to play it off as though she’d been thinking.

  “I shouldn’t trust you?” she asked.

  He smiled, definitely blushing, and averted his gaze.

  “I hope you do,” he said in his deep, intoxicating voice.

  * * *

  —

  “You design apps, right?” he asked, coming around to her left side, his attention on her hair.

  “I do,” she said. Had she mentioned what she did the last time? Probably; she couldn’t remember. His hands caught her attention as he pulled a pair of gloves out of a box and began working them on. His really sexy, very masculine hands. Without a wedding band in sight. She cleared her throat.

  “Darius and I have been thinking about getting one to work alongside our website,” he said. “For our staff, but also for our clients. Easier to make appointments, choose cuts, stuff like that.”

  “Ah,” she said. If he wanted an app, she’d feel even worse about ogling him. It was bad business to look at a client that way. He turned his wrist a little, and the friendship bracelets on each side of his watch caught her eye. On one hand, it was kind of cute—such an attractive guy his age not too full of himself to wear something silly. On the other hand, maybe his daughter had made them for him. That thought severely dampened Vanessa’s fun. Maybe he had a kid—and a baby mama. She glanced at the photos tucked into the edge of his mirror. There was one of Khalil and Darius when they’d been much younger, and a slightly faded one at the highest corner with a group of guys, maybe college age. There may have been a family resemblance, but she wasn’t sure. In another Khalil was smiling, wearing graduation regalia. She was pretty sure it was master’s level and that the man and woman on either side of him were his parents. It was a really sweet photo, and he’d clearly gotten his height from his dad but his looks from his mom. Only photos of friends and family. No women, no kids. Then she realized the clippers had gone silent and he was standing right behind her, looking at her reflection with an open expression in his eyes and a little smile. Shit.

  “Um…sorry,” she said. “Did you ask me something? I was kind of lost in my thoughts.”

  “No problem,” he said. “I, well, Darius and I, were wondering if you could help us out. With designing an app. For our business. If…you have the time, and if that’s even the type of app you make…um, you know.”

  A little part of her registered that he sounded nervous asking. But a larger part had to hide her disappointment. She always drew a strong line between business and pleasure. And she wasn’t about to let a little attraction change her practices.

  “Sure,” she said. “We work with small businesses all the time. I can set up a meeting for you with one of my staff, get the ball rolling.”

  “Oh,” he said softly, suddenly intent on the chair. “Cool. Thanks.”

  He finished up and she nodded her approval, very impressed with the light fade he’d given her. She followed him to the register to pay and flipped the cover of her phone case open to see when she could link him up with her assistant. Then she paused and looked at him, her gaze tripping on his lips. He smiled. She smiled back. No reason she couldn’t handle things. She could be professional while enjoying some eye candy.

  “You know, it would probably be easier for us to work on this together…I mean…” She took a quick breath. “It’s been a little while since I worked directly with a client, designed a project myself. Do you mind being my refresher?”

  He grinned, and she discovered he was adorable when he was shy.

  “I’d like that,” he said. “How do we get started?”

  Timing presented a challenge. Vanessa’s travel schedule didn’t leav
e a lot of free time, and Khalil’s work schedule required him to be in his shop most business hours. Her office on Jefferson off Shelby would be too far away for him to get to on a busy day. She was about to ask about using his back room, so they could work between his clients, until he suggested a coffee shop a couple of miles away.

  “Day after tomorrow, I’ve got the afternoon free to take my niece to the dentist. We could meet before I have to pick her up from school.”

  “Oh,” Vanessa said, concealing how cute she found his involvement in his niece’s life. “That could work. We’d need about an hour, is that okay?”

  “Perfect,” he said, flashing her that bashful grin.

  * * *

  —

  “No,” Lisa, Vanessa’s best friend, said, sitting at the bar counter overlooking Vanessa’s kitchen. She hadn’t taken her eyes off of Vanessa’s laptop since they’d finished dinner and Vanessa had introduced her to Khalil and Darius, courtesy of the photos on the Fade website.

  Vanessa chuckled, putting the leftover salad in the fridge.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “No,” Lisa repeated. “I’m sorry, but no. There cannot be this much hotness in the same space. They’re business partners?”

  “And longtime friends, I think,” Vanessa said, joining her at the bar. “Come on, let’s get your room set up.”

  “I’m bringing them with me,” Lisa said, picking up the laptop and following Vanessa out to the garage.

  * * *

  —

  “So, an app,” Lisa said. “That’s…very noncommittal.” She finished stuffing her pillow into its case. Vanessa stopped working on the other one to look Lisa in the eye.

  “Who says I want him to be committal?”

  Lisa shrugged, grabbing the blanket off the chair and unfolding it on the bed.

  “You have not been talking about this guy like he’s some random barber. Or a potential client. You have definitely been using words that could lead to commitment-based ones.”