Cheesecake and Teardrops (18 page)

“This must be Tangela,” she said warmly, ushering them in and closing the door.

“It's so nice to meet you,” Tangie replied, extending her hand.

Gloria Banks flung Tangie's hand away and gave her a hug. Tangie immediately felt welcomed.

“Honey, Anthony's here,” she told her husband.

Herb Banks rose from his chair in the living room to greet Tony and his guest. They embraced as well before Tony introduced him to Tangie. Mr. Banks was pleased to meet her, eagerly shaking her hand with both of his own.

“Let me take your coats,” Mrs. Banks said as they joined Tony's dad in the living room. He folded up the newspaper and gave them his full attention.

“Something smells good, Ma,” Tony said. “What 'cha make?”

“Your favorite,” Tony's mother replied. “I hope you're good and hungry.”

“Nobody makes roast chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, and fresh string beans like my mother. Nobody. Trust me,” he told Tangie.

“Well, it sure smells delicious,” Tangie said.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Banks said, rising to her feet to check on dinner.

“Can I help with anything?” Tangie asked her.

“As a matter of fact, would you mind helping me put the biscuits in the oven? I don't see as well as I used to, and I'm always burning myself,” Mrs. Banks said.

“Oh, I'd be happy to,” Tangie said, following Mrs. Banks into the kitchen and leaving the men to talk about the upcoming basketball game.

The kitchen was just as warm as Mrs. Banks with its floral curtains and tablecloth. It was a huge kitchen with a wooden island in the middle. Tangie took the pan of homemade biscuits from the counter and slid it in the oven, closing the oven door carefully. Mrs. Banks stood over the table with the electric mixer in hand, making the mashed potatoes.

She motioned for Tangie to have a seat.

“So tell me how you and my son met,” she said.

Tangie proceeded to tell Mrs. Banks about the job fair that brought them together and how long they'd been dating.

Just repeating the story brought a smile to Tangie's face.

“Anthony doesn't bring many girls home to meet us, so the fact that you're here means a lot. He thinks highly of you,” she said matter-of-factly. Tangie listened, nodding slowly.

“How do you feel about my son?” Mrs. Banks asked.

“He's wonderful. You and Mr. Banks must be very proud of him.”

“Yes, we are.” She smiled. “Tangela, would you check on the biscuits for me? They should be about done.”

“Sure,” Tangie said, rising to her feet. She peered through the oven window. The biscuits were a pretty golden brown, and their aroma tickled her nostrils in the most delightful way as she opened the oven door and placed the biscuits on the counter.

They ate in the dining room, which was just off the kitchen. Mr. Banks said grace. Mrs. Banks fixed her husband's plate, and they all dug in.

“When Anthony was a little boy,” Mr. Banks began, “every time he won a Little League game, he wanted roast chicken and mashed potatoes. And when he was in junior high and high school, he wanted it every time he won a basketball game. So when he called and asked his mother to fix it today, we knew you must be a gem.” He grinned at his son cutting his chicken.

Tangie discovered that Tony was absolutely right. If his mother didn't make the best roast chicken, Tangie didn't know who did. With each mouthful, Tangie tried to decipher the recipe. When she could stand it no more, she hinted about how she'd love to have the recipe. Smiling, Mrs. Banks mentioned that it was a family secret. Dessert was just as delicious—homemade lemon coconut layer cake and ice cream. Tangie couldn't wait to drop the thank you card in the mail. Two weeks later, she received a reply—Mrs. Banks's roasted chicken recipe.

Charisma finally forgave herself for the way she treated Nico. Every morning as she walked into work, she laughed to herself. Let the cat-and-mouse games begin. She was getting bolder with her boss with each passing day.

One afternoon she sat at her computer, drumming her fingers.

She e-mailed Nate that she needed some good music, and did he have any. He e-mailed her back that all his music was in his car, but that maybe they could make some of their own. Your desktop or mine, was her first reaction, but she decided against transmitting it. Unfortunately, she hit the wrong key, and two minutes later, Nate was standing in her doorway with a mischievous grin on his face.

He walked over to where she was sitting. “You are bad,” he told her.

“Sometimes my fingers have a mind of their own.”

“Keep it up, and you'll end up on your back.”

“I'll remember that,” she said as he walked away, his hands in his pockets.

 

 

When Charisma arrived at work the next morning, a beautiful bouquet of orange roses was waiting for her. The secretary said they had arrived a few minutes before Charisma did. Charisma opened up the card and smiled. It was signed,
Your desktop lover.
Blushing, she tucked the card safely away in her pocket.

Later, when Nate stopped in to drop off a report, he noticed the roses on her desk. “Wow, somebody must think you're really special,” he said.

“It looks that way,” she said coyly.

“Well, whatever you're doing, you must be doing it right.” He winked as he returned to his office.

For the rest of the day, they flirted with each other when they thought no one was looking. Finally, at around five o'clock Nate called Charisma into his office.

“Close the door,” he told her. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Really?” she asked.

“You know Presidents' Day is coming up, and I thought maybe you and I could go away for the long weekend.”

She smiled. “Where did you have in mind?”

“Mexico. Cabo San Lucas.”

“Really?” she repeated.

“I mean, you, me, a few days in the sun. What could be better? Tell you what. Take a few days to think it over and get back to me.”

“I'll do that.”

 

The next night Charisma met Heather and Tangie after work at Red Lobster. Surprisingly, they all arrived at the same time. They had made reservations so they didn't have to wait long for a table. They ordered drinks and dinner.

Right away, Tangie and Heather noticed Charisma's glow.

“What are you talking about?” Charisma asked.

“Girl, you must be getting some good juice,” Tangie said.

“You are sick,” Charisma answered.

“Then what's up? Something's going on?” Heather hinted.

“Well, my boss sent me roses. . . .” Charisma began.

“And seeing that it's not Secretary's Day, and you're not his secretary, I think he's moving in for the kill,” Tangie surmised.

“I was just as shocked as you are,” Charisma admitted.

“Yeah, right. Tell me anything. I'm half black,” Heather said. “Like my mother always says, when your body is trying to tell you something, listen to it. You didn't have that glow with Nico, and Dex definitely didn't give it to you.”

“No, Dex was giving it to her, all right.” Tangie laughed.

“But I think he's about to get his walking papers.”

“There's more,” Charisma said as their drinks arrived.

“He wants to take me to Cabo San Lucas.”

“Get outta here!” Heather exclaimed.

“I know you said yes,” Tangie insisted.

“I told him I'd think about it.” Charisma sipped her piña colada.

“What's there to think about?” Tangie asked.

Heather looked at Tangie. “Just the fact that she didn't flat-out say
no
means that she's going.”

“I didn't say that,” Charisma said, shaking her head.

“You didn't have to.” Heather grinned.

“Have a ball,” Tangie said to Charisma, raising her glass.

“To Cabo,” she toasted, waiting for Charisma to join in.

“I must be a fool. To Cabo,” Charisma finally said, shaking her head.

 

Charisma got in that night and drew herself a hot bath.

The scented heat felt delicious on her skin. She needed time to herself, time to think, and she always did her best thinking in the tub. Should she or shouldn't she go away with Nate? Sure, her father would be thrilled, but what did Charisma want? She couldn't deny that she and Nate had chemistry. Just looking at him made her juices flow. On the other hand, he was divorced. God only knows what kind of emotional baggage he was lugging around. And most leaders were control freaks. Then again, he was only asking her to go on a trip to Cabo with him, not a trip down the altar.

What did she have to lose?

She picked up the cordless phone and dialed his number.

He picked up on the second ring.

“Nate, it's Charisma. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Not at all, Charisma.”

“I've been thinking about your proposition, and I've decided to take you up on it.”

“Really,” he said, the smile evident in his voice. “Wow, that's great. I think we'll have a lot of fun together.”

“I'd like to invite you over for breakfast Saturday morning if you're not busy.”

“Sounds like a plan. What time shall I come by?”

“How about around ten?”

“Shall I bring anything?”

“Just yourself.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow, Charisma,” he said before hanging up.

 

Charisma had her nails done Thursday and her hair done Friday after work. Daisy's was practically empty and she was in and out. Charisma always said nothing made her feel more like a million bucks than a fresh do. A woman could be dressed to kill, but if her hair was whacked, she'd look like crap. On the other hand, if she had on a pair of wornout jeans but her hair and makeup were flawless, she could still stop traffic. Charisma loved the power of stopping traffic.

Charisma headed over to Cinderella's to have her eyebrows done. Naturally, it was busy, and Cinderella was a social butterfly. So, Charisma had a bit of a wait on her hand.

Cinderella's assistant worked on one customer's brow while Cinderella rang up a couple of sales and finished another pair of brows.

Finally, she motioned for Charisma to have a seat in her chair. She didn't have to be told twice and hopped in the chair as two more women entered the shop. Cinderella stopped momentarily to greet the new customers and introduced everyone. She cleaned Charisma's brows and applied wax.

“So how's everything?” Cinderella asked Charisma softly as she began working on her brow.

“Everything's good,” Charisma whispered.

“You know you're glowing? Is there something you want to tell me?”

“No, Cinderella. I'm having breakfast with my boss tomorrow morning.”

“He took you to the Knicks game awhile back, right?”

“You remember that?”

“Of course, my darling. I remember how you lit up when you talked about him.” Cinderella finished waxing and picked up the tweezers. “I've tasted your breakfasts, I hope you're cooking.”

“I am,” Charisma admitted.

Cinderella concentrated on her brows for a few moments in silence. Finally, she finished up and handed her the mirror.

“Now I can face the world again,” she said, admiring Cinderella's handiwork. Charisma paid her and fished around her purse for her car keys.

“Power to the people. You know without God and you we truly cannot survive,” Cinderella said before kissing her on both cheeks. “Enjoy yourself tomorrow, my queen, okay? I love you. Everybody say good-bye to Queen Charisma.”

Charisma left amidst a chorus of good-byes. Once home, she cleaned her house from top to bottom. By the time she got into bed that night she was exhausted.

 

Charisma awakened at about eight o'clock Saturday morning, changed the linen on her bed, and watered all of her plants. She then took a shower and slipped into a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. By the time she headed for the kitchen, it was a little after nine. Breakfast wasn't until ten.

She busied herself chopping onions and green peppers and shredded sharp cheddar for the omelets. Then, she began cooking bacon in the oven. It was a trick she learned from her mother that saved her the pain and annoyance of hot grease burns. She whipped up half-a-dozen buttermilk biscuits, putting them aside until just before Nate arrived.

Next, she made her famous cinnamon raisin pancakes, making certain they were kept warm. She put on a pot of fresh coffee and heated a bottle of syrup for the pancakes.

At the last minute she decided to make some salmon cakes but decided against home fries. She didn't want to overdo it.

When Nate called, everything was under control. He was five minutes away so she popped the biscuits in the oven and made certain the kitchen table was set just so. Nate arrived moments later with fresh flowers, kissing her on the cheek as he walked in.

“Twice in one week? I'm impressed.” She smiled, taking the flowers into the kitchen. She returned with a bottle of water and put the flowers in a vase on her coffee table.

He took off his coat and laid it along a chair. “Wow, something smells good.”

“Just a little something I whipped up. Do you like omelets?” Charisma asked.

“That's fine.”

“Well, why don't you have a seat, and breakfast will be ready in a few.” She returned to the kitchen to make the eggs. The salmon cakes and biscuits were done, and before long, the omelets were ready too. She placed everything on the table.

“Hope you're hungry,” she told him as he sat at the kitchen table. “Would you like juice with your coffee?”

“Thank you.”

She got up to get the orange juice.

“No, you sit. I'll get it. You've done enough this morning.”

He headed to the refrigerator for the half gallon of juice, poured them both a glass, and sat back down. “This looks delicious,” he told her.

“I just wanted our first breakfast together to be special.”

“Well, mission accomplished. I don't know where to start,” he said, tasting the omelet. “You are something else. Do you know that?”

Charisma laughed, chewing on some bacon. “I'm glad you're enjoying it.”

“I see you know the way to a man's heart, but then I think you already have it.”

They ate in silence for a few moments. Charisma smiled to herself. Who would have thought that she and Mr. Camry would be breaking bread together?

“I don't think I've ever had pancakes like these. They almost taste like oatmeal raisin cookies. And you even heated the syrup? You're some cook.”

When they finished breakfast, Nate insisted on doing the dishes.

“Uh-uh,” Charisma said. “I'll do them later.”

They returned to the living room and cuddled on the sofa. They were both stuffed.

“Now about Cabo,” he said, rubbing her shoulder. “What's the word?”

She turned and looked him in the eye. “I'm game if you are. When do you wanna leave?”

“How about if we leave Friday and return Sunday. That way we'll have Monday to recuperate.”

“Sounds good to me.” She smiled at him.

“Do you have a travel agent?” Nate asked.

“Yeah, she finds the best deals.”

“Why don't you give her a call, so we can go see her,” Nate advised.

“How about Tuesday?” Charisma asked him.

“Tuesday's fine. You know, I still can't believe you're agreeing to this.”

“Believe it, Nate.”

He kissed her on the neck. “No, I'll believe it when we're airborne.

 

Charisma and Nate saw the travel agent Tuesday after work. Late that night after she got in, Charisma called Tangie and Heather.

“It's official. We're going to Cabo San Lucas.”

“We need details,” Heather insisted.

Charisma brought them up to date. “I still can't believe it.”

“I prayed for you,” Heather admitted. “And you know what they say. Prayer changes things.”

“How much you wanna bet you two don't wait until the weekend to get your groove on? And I would love to be a fly on the wall when you finally do.” Tangie laughed.

“And if that mattress could talk . . .” Heather began.

“You need a man,” Charisma told Heather.

“Why? Honey, my vibrator does just fine,” Heather responded.

“Yeah, until you wear out those doggone batteries.” Tangie laughed.

“Hey, nothing's perfect,” Heather reminded them before they all hung up.

 

 

All day Friday Charisma and Nate played it cool. Since Charisma was closer to Kennedy Airport, Nate wanted to take a cab, stop off at her place and pick her up, and then proceed to JFK. Charisma, on the other hand, wanted to meet him at the gate. She won. Their American Airlines flight would depart at eight-thirty so they agreed to meet at the airport around six-thirty. All they had to do was rush home and get their bags. Since they'd only be gone a couple of days, they agreed to bring carry-on luggage only.

Nate got to the gate first and relaxed. It had been a hectic day, but now he was ready to enjoy some fun in the sun with Miss Dearborn. He expected her momentarily. He glanced at his watch. It was seven o'clock. Her taxi was probably tied up in traffic. Fifteen more minutes went by, and he decided to call her cell. Damn, it wasn't on. He left a message. Where the hell was she? Five minutes later he called again.

Nate was beginning to get concerned. Did she get cold feet at the last minute? She seemed just as excited as he was about the trip. So what was going on? He checked his cell for messages. There were none. He got up and grabbed his two bags and began walking around the airport, hoping to find her. By 7:45 it was time to start boarding. Damn, where the hell was she? He waited and waited. Was he actually being stood up? He may have wasted one plane ticket, but he'd be damned if he wasted two. Nate took one last glance behind him, gave the agent his boarding pass and ID to check, and boarded the airplane alone.