Playing For Keeps

Book 0: Sultry Southern Nights

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

Genres: African American; African American Romance; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

As an accomplished architect, single dad of teenage twin girls, and co-owner of The Playground, Raleigh's hottest jazz and blues club, it's an understatement to say Malcolm Cobb has his hands full. Add to that an ex-wife who knows how to bring the drama, it's no surprise he has little time or inclination for a personal life. But when he spots stunning, voluptuous Cilla Jameson, he's suddenly considering rearranging his schedule and setting aside his concerns. . . Independent and successful, Cilla would love to be in love. But when it comes to men, she has a lengthy list of requirements. And "no children" is at the top. Yet she can't help being intrigued by Malcolm. He's handsome, fascinating, respectful--and up for a challenge. But is Cilla? After all, the man has baggage--and it is fully packed. Can she handle the ex who's determined to keep him single? Or the twins who are not quite the angels Malcolm thinks? She'll have to decide, if she wants to play for keeps. . .

Release date: November 1, 2015

Publisher: Dafina

Print pages: 320

Sample

The employees at the Glenwood Avenue Starbucks greeted Malcolm Cobb by name. It was just past six-thirty in the morning and their cheery demeanors always amazed the man. He had finished his morning run ahead of schedule and was one of the first in line to get his coffee to kick off his day.

“Will you be having your usual today?” a young woman named Allison questioned.

Malcolm nodded. “I will, Allie.”

The girl gave him a bright smile. “One venti caramel macchiato, skim milk and extra caramel coming right up!”

Malcolm nodded. “Thank you.”

“We had a great time at your nightclub this past Saturday,” another Starbucks employee chimed as he blended coffee and cream into an oversize container. “I took my girl and her sister. They’re still talking about it!”

“I appreciate that,” Malcolm said as he moved from the order lane to the pickup counter. While he waited he made conversation with the staff and the man in line behind him. The morning chatter was casual and easy as they caught up on their weekend escapades and mused over the news headlines.

Malcolm looked across the room as the bell chimed over the entrance door, announcing a customer’s arrival. His eyes widened as he caught sight of the woman coming through the door. He knew beyond any doubt that the stunning beauty was a woman who garnered a lot of attention when she came into a room because she definitely had his.

She had an air of sophistication and glamour that few other women he knew possessed. She was dressed in a form-fitting pencil skirt and top that showcased her curves and four-inch pumps, and she carried a high-end leather bag across her arm. Her hair was thick and healthy, a precision cut bob stopping just at her shoulders. Her makeup was meticulous and flattering to her walnut brown complexion. She actually took his breath away, and it was only when the Starbucks employee called for his attention that he realized he was staring.

“Mr. Cobb, is there anything else we can get for you?”

Malcolm’s head snapped as he pulled his attention back to the young employee looking at him, a bright smile across her face. He nodded. “Yes, there is something you can do,” he said as he leaned over the counter, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Charge my credit card for that woman’s order. Whatever she wants.”

Allison looked toward the end of the line. “The woman in the blue print dress?” she asked.

Malcolm nodded. “Yes.”

The girl smiled. “Not a problem, sir.”

Moving out of the line Malcolm took his macchiato and a cinnamon Danish to a corner table. Settling down in his seat he watched as the woman placed her order. As she reached into her handbag for her wallet, Allison pointed in his direction. He smiled and waved a slight hand.

Cilla Jameson had noticed him when she’d entered, the handsome stranger catching the eye of a few women in the room. She’d barely given him a second glance though as her mind had been elsewhere, too many thoughts racing through her head. Foremost was whether or not she had paid her credit card bill and if her card would be accepted when they swiped it to pay for her morning coffee. She was desperate for a good cup of coffee. His generosity was a welcome blessing.

She studied him curiously. She recognized him from somewhere but was having a hard time remembering where. It wasn’t often that she couldn’t remember a handsome face when she saw one and the man was definitely handsome. He was tall and dark, his beautiful complexion smooth and clear like chocolate ice. He had a slim build but he was fit and from his running shoes, shorts, and sweat-stained shirt she reasoned he’d either just left the gym or had finished a long run. His hair was jet-black and cropped low and close to his head, the cut and meticulously lined edges flattering to his face. There was an abundance of attitude shimmering in his dark eyes and a bad-boy aura that surrounded him. If a stranger picked up the tab for her morning meal she was thankful he was a good-looking stranger.

Picking up her order, she crossed over to where he sat, a bright smile across her face. “Thank you. That was very kind of you,” she said, nodding her head in appreciation.

Malcolm smiled back as he gestured to the empty seat on the other side of the table. “Do you have a minute to join me?”

Cilla hesitated for a brief second before she said, “I think I do have a minute.” She placed her beverage against the tabletop. She was only slightly surprised when he stood up and moved behind her, pulling out her chair. She tossed him a quick look over her shoulder. “Thank you.”

He nodded as he sat back down. “My name’s Malcolm. Malcolm Cobb.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Malcolm. I’m Priscilla Jameson but everyone calls me Cilla.”

“Cilla . . . that’s a beautiful name. So, do you have a husband or a maybe a boyfriend I need to be concerned about, Cilla Jameson?”

She laughed. “Aren’t you a little presumptuous?”

“Why would you say that?”

“We’re just meeting. Why would you need to be concerned about any personal relationship of mine?”

His eyes danced over her face, amusement shimmering in his eyes. He shifted forward in his seat. “Because if you do have a husband, then I would have to recuse myself from pursuing you any further. If you just have a boyfriend . . . well . . . all would be fair in love and war.”

She laughed heartily, her head bobbing slightly. “Interesting.” There was a momentary pause as they eyed each other intently. She shook her head. “No. I’m not married and I don’t have a boyfriend. You?”

Malcolm grinned broadly. “I’m very single.”

She smiled. “I keep thinking that I know you from someplace but I can’t figure out from where.”

“Did you go to school here in Raleigh?”

She shook her head. “I was born and raised in Charlotte. But I graduated from UNC-Chapel Hill.”

“I went to school here. I did my undergrad at Shaw University and my graduate work at NC State. I studied industrial design and engineering.”

“I majored in prelaw but I’m working in pharmaceuticals at the moment.”

Malcolm smiled. “I’m not sure how to take that,” he said, the hint of laughter in his tone.

“I don’t deal drugs if that’s what you’re implying,” Cilla said with a slight roll of her eyes. “I’m a healthcare administrator for a biotech company in Research Park.”

“Well, I own a nightclub downtown.”

Cilla snapped her fingers. “That’s where I know you from. You and your business partner were featured in the News and Observer.”

Malcolm smiled. Since its grand opening, the nightclub had been featured in the local newspaper a number of times. Most recently, word of their success had reached a national level, The Playground being named a must-stop on things to do in Raleigh, North Carolina.

Co-owned with Romeo Marshall, his best friend and fraternity brother, their nightspot was now the place to be, and both of them, the men to know. The success of The Playground had propelled them right into the spotlight. “It wasn’t a good picture,” he said. “They didn’t get my best side.”

Cilla laughed. “So which is your best side?”

“The one they didn’t show.”

There was a moment of pause as the two sat grinning foolishly at each other.

“So, your club is a jazz and blues bar, right?” Cilla questioned.

“It is, with a hint of R&B and soul.” He reached into his pocket for his wallet and pulled a business card from inside. “If you have some time maybe you can stop by,” he said as he passed it to her.

She studied it momentarily. “The Playground . . . sounds like it would be a good time.”

“It will be,” he said, his tone smug. “I’ll be there.”

She smiled. “You don’t know when I’m coming.”

He shrugged. “I’m always there so you can’t miss me.”

Cilla took a quick glance down to her wristwatch. She took one last sip of her morning brew. “Thank you again for the coffee. I really appreciate it.”

He stood up with her. “I’m here every morning, same time,” he said. “In case you’re interested in another cup. And I really do hope you’ll be interested in having another cup of coffee with me.”

Cilla laughed, the soft lilt of it stirring a wave of heat through Malcolm’s spirit. “Always here, always at the club, doesn’t sound like you have any time for much else,” she said.

Malcolm’s mouth pulled into a seductive grin. “I would make time for you, Cilla Jameson.”

“I said now!” Claudette Cobb shouted, her deep alto voice vibrating through the home. “And I mean it!” the matriarch concluded.

Malcolm Cobb laughed as he moved from his downstairs office into the home’s foyer. He leaned to kiss his mother’s cheek.

“Where have you been?” she exclaimed, pressing a hand to her chest. “You scared me!”

“Sorry about that but I snuck in through the back door. I went for a run and then grabbed a cup of coffee from Starbucks. I thought I’d get some paper work done before I lie down for a nap.”

“I don’t know why you waste good money when we have that coffeepot sitting right there in that kitchen.”

“I like Starbucks. It helps to clear my head after a long night.”

“Humph!” his mother grunted, her expression strained.

“But good morning to you!” Malcolm exclaimed, changing the subject.

“It was a good morning until them girls decided to work my one good nerve,” she said, her smile brightening her face.

Malcolm chucked warmly. “Math test today. Neither one wants to go to school.”

Claudette shook her head. “I don’t know why. They both always do well. They whine that they’re going to fail and then they always pass with flying colors.”

Her son shrugged his broad shoulders. “I don’t know what to tell you.” He leaned against the banister and called upward. “Cleo! Claudia! If you’re late for school, you will both be grounded for the weekend and I mean what I say. Get a move on it.”

Seconds later his thirteen-year-old twin daughters both shuffled across the hardwood floors and down the stairs. Malcolm eyed one and then the other. Identical, the two girls were making it their mission to express their individuality in their attire. Claudia, the eldest, was going for a Little House on the Prairie look with a ruffled maxi skirt, a blouse buttoned up to her neck, and low-heeled boots. Cleo, the younger of the twins by minutes, was hoping for more of a video vixen look.

He shook his head and pointed skyward.

“Change, Cleo. Now!” he snapped, his brusque tone voicing his displeasure.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” the girl snapped back, defiance billowing across her face.

“You don’t have on any clothes,” her grandmother quipped.

Malcolm moved quickly in the child’s direction, her eyes widening as her father took the first four steps in one swift leap. He stood eye to eye with her, everything about his expression declaring there would be no discussion.

“I’m changing!” the girl muttered as she turned abruptly and raced back to her room.

Her sister stood laughing. Malcolm shifted his gaze, eyeing her with a narrowed stare. “Your lunch is on the counter. Grab a Pop-Tart or a banana for breakfast and get your tail to the bus stop.”

“Yes, sir,” Claudia responded, moving quickly toward the kitchen.

Minutes later Cleo returned, her skirt more modest and her blouse appropriate. She eased her way cautiously past her father, not bothering to comment as he repeated the same instructions to her. As the two girls headed out the front door he kissed both their cheeks and slipped a five-dollar bill into each child’s pocket.

“Bye, Daddy,” Claudia said as she kissed him back.

“Love you, Daddy,” Cleo whispered.

He nodded. “I love you, too, baby girl. And you and I will talk when you get home this afternoon.”

“We’re going to Mommy’s this afternoon,” the girl responded, reminding him of their weekday visitation with his ex-wife.

“Then we’ll talk when you get back,” he said.

“Do we have to go with Mommy?” Cleo questioned. She met the look her father was giving her.

Interrupting, their grandmother pushed her way between them. “You’re going to be late and if you miss the bus I’m going to have to take you to school. Let’s go and I’ll pick you up when school gets out so we can meet your mother on time. You know how she gets if you’re late.”

Malcolm watched as the girls hurried to the corner, their grandmother standing at the end of the driveway to see them get on the bus. Both had thrown him one last look and he wished he could have told them no, that they didn’t have to visit with their mother if they didn’t want to. But that wasn’t an option for either of them, his divorce ruling dictating their mother’s visitation rights. One weekend per month, one month each summer, and every other Monday the girls had to spend time with their other parent whether any of them liked it or not. And none of them liked it.

Malcolm blew a deep sigh. He knew he would eventually have to take it back to court and allow the girls to express their own wishes but he wasn’t ready for the turmoil that would ensue. Dealing with his ex-wife had always come with much drama. So much so that he’d purposely avoided pursuing a serious relationship since they’d split. He’d been burned, badly, and hadn’t been willing to put his heart on the line since.

He suddenly thought about the beautiful woman who’d taken his business card. Cilla Jameson had him intrigued and although she’d captured his attention he didn’t know if he could see it going but so far. As he reflected on their morning exchange he couldn’t help but wonder exactly how far that might be.

Minutes later, with a deep sigh, Malcolm headed back to his office. There were a dozen calls he needed to make before heading back to the nightclub and he hoped against all odds to get at least a thirty-minute nap before that had to happen.

Cilla was reading the last FDA report on a new line of organic narcotics when her best friend, Bianca Torres, rushed into her office, hurriedly closing the door behind her. Bianca moved to the glass wall that bordered the reception and secretarial areas and closed the blinds. The gesture was conspiratorial, like something between them needed to be kept secret.

“What’s up?” Cilla questioned, lifting her eyes from the mountain of paperwork that rested on her desk. She peered past Bianca’s shoulder, catching her own secretary’s eye briefly before the curtains were drawn closed between them. “Why are you acting all squirrelly?”

“Did you know Donna got engaged?” Bianca whispered loudly as she dropped into the cushioned seat in front of Cilla’s desk. With a flip of her head she tossed her waist-length, jet-black hair over her shoulder.

“I didn’t know she was dating anyone.”

“She got engaged this weekend!”

“I guess that’s exciting and I’m happy for her but why does that have you acting so weird?”

“Her fiancé’s down the hall. She wanted everyone to meet him.”

“I’m still not understanding,” Cilla said as she reclined back in her seat, crossing her hands together in her lap.

“We know her fiancé already,” Bianca continued.

Cilla eyed her with a raised brow, still questioning where the story was going.

Bianca tossed up her hands. “It’s Wes. She’s engaged to Wesley Brooks.”

Cilla’s eyes widened at the name of their old friend and Bianca’s ex-lover. Neither had spoken to Wes since he’d been caught red-handed, his infidelity caught on camera and posted on the internet for all to see. Before then they’d all been friends. He and Cilla had been sales partners and Bianca had been convinced he was the one. Wes’s getting caught making out with a blond bombshell had been the beginning of the end.

Cilla rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. She rose from her seat and reopened her office blinds. “Really, Bianca? I thought you were over him?”

“I am. I am happily committed to my favorite guy. That snake doesn’t come close to the man Ethan is,” she said, referring to the boyfriend she’d met before the New Year. “I just enjoyed giving Wes a hard time. He deserved it.”

Her friend laughed. “I met a man this morning,” she said, changing the subject.

Bianca shifted in her seat. “Where’d you meet a man?”

“Starbucks.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“There’s nothing wrong with him.”

“There is always something wrong with them. Every man I’ve ever met hanging out in a coffee shop has had some issues.”

“Well, this man doesn’t. He really seemed to have his ‘ish’ together.” Cilla passed Malcolm’s business card to her friend. “He owns a nightclub downtown.”

Bianca’s eyes widened with excitement. “I know this place! This is the joint I was telling you about. This club is off the chain!”

“So, do you want to go with me? He invited me to stop by sometime. I’m thinking I might go tonight.”

“You better take me with you but you can’t go anytime soon. And definitely not tonight!”

Cilla rolled her eyes. “Why not?”

“Desperate much? Don’t you know you need to keep a man guessing?”

“Like you did with Wes?” A wide smile pulled at Cilla’s thin lips as she lifted her hand and waved.

“He’s behind us, isn’t he?”

Cilla nodded. “And about to come into the office,” she mumbled between gritted teeth.

Bianca winced as she took a deep breath. She twisted around in her seat just as the door opened and her ex-boyfriend, Wesley Brooks, stuck his head inside.

Wesley waved his hand nervously. Both women smiled, amusement dancing across their faces as their associate Donna chattered excitedly.

“Hey, y’all! I just wanted to introduce you to my fiancé!” the petite blond said excitedly. “This is Wesley. Wesley Brooks. We just got engaged!”

Bianca forced a wide grin to her face. “We’re all old friends!” she said smugly. “How are you, Wes?”

Cilla nodded. “Wesley, hey! It’s good to see you again.”

The man smiled sheepishly. “Cilla, Bianca, how are you?” He and Bianca exchanged a look, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

Cilla smiled. “We’re good,” she said quickly. “Congratulations! Engaged! That’s so exciting.”

Donna grinned. “It’s going to be a short engagement. The wedding is in six weeks.”

Bianca eyed the man with a raised brow. “Well, Wes does short well,” she said as she held up her hand, her thumb and forefinger just millimeters apart. “How’s Gwen?” she suddenly asked. “You two still making movies together?”

Cilla stifled a laugh as the man blushed profusely. The insult blew right over Donna’s head. The rest of the conversation was swift and tense, polite small talk as both women wished the newly engaged couple well.

When the two lovebirds had moved off down the hallway, Bianca blew a deep sigh. “As I was saying, if you race on down there to see some guy you just met, you’re going to seem desperate. It’s not a pretty look.”

“You mean like you just looked when you told Wes to call you sometime so you two could catch up?”

Bianca shrugged, a wry smile pulling at her mouth. “I was just making conversation.”

“That wasn’t all you were trying to make and he and Donna both knew it.”

“You can’t blame a girl for trying to start a mess when she can. Did you see him start to sweat?”

“Okay,” Cilla said, laughing heartily. The jovial moment passed as she moved back to her seat.

“So what do you plan to do about this Malcolm guy?” Bianca questioned as she twisted his business card between her fingers.

“That reminds me,” Cilla quipped as she opened her laptop and typed in her password. “I need to make sure I paid all of my bills this month. Lately I’ve had so much on my mind that I think I could forget my head if it weren’t screwed onto my neck.”

Confusion washed over Bianca’s expression.

Cilla chuckled. “He bought my coffee this morning,” she said as though it all should have made sense to her friend. When it didn’t she explained about her credit card situation and Malcolm’s timely gesture.

Bianca shook her head as she moved back onto her feet. “Just tell me what you decide to do about tonight so I know if I need to go home and change.” She moved to the door, turning as Cilla called after her.

“Why do you need to change?”

“Because everyone who’s anyone is showing up at The Playground. You don’t know who I might meet!”

Cilla shook her head. “Did you forget about Ethan? You do have a boyfriend, remember?

Bianca laughed. “Girl, I will never forget about Ethan! Don’t you know I love that man!”

The Playground Jazz and Blues Club sat off Glenwood Avenue in downtown Raleigh, the old brick building neighbored by Lem Young’s Chinese Cleaners and Harper’s Florist. A line of college students, young adults, and old souls was already forming, a growing crowd trying their best to get inside.

Malcolm walked a dimly lit corridor, past a mirrored wall into the nightclub’s interior. He had barely made it down the length of the hallway when a random female suddenly pressed her body to his and trapped his mouth beneath her own. The kiss tasted of stale tobacco and bourbon. As he pushed her from him, both his hands holding tight to her shoulders, she gave him a toothy grin and laughed. The wispy giggle filled her face and she looked no older than his daughters. He felt himself tense, gesturing for one of the members of their security team.

“Hahaha, you ain’t my boyfriend,” the girl said with a waiflike cackle.

“No, I’m not,” Malcolm said as he guided her to an empty chair and pushed her into it. “Did you come with your boyfriend?” he questioned as he stole a quick glance around the room.

A look of confusion shimmered in her dark eyes as she stared at him.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Before she could answer another young woman rushed between them. “I’m sorry, Mr. Cobb. This is my friend Tina and she’s had way too much to drink!”

He looked toward the young woman who’d called him by his name, not recognizing her face. She sensed his perplexity and smiled brightly. “I’m Nikki Procter. My mom is Bernadette Procter. She goes to your church and is on the usher board with Miss Claudette.”

Malcolm nodded as he made the connection. “Nikki, how old are you? And how old is your friend Tina?”

The girl laughed. “We’re both twenty-one. Today’s her birthday and we all came out to celebrate.” She pointed to a crowded table of young women who sat behind them. “The man at the door and the man at the bar both checked our IDs twice. We’re legal.”

“Well, I think Tina’s had too much celebration. It’s time to say good night.” He pointed to the security guard. “Ryan here will help you get her to the car,” he said, his statement a direct order.

The girl named Nikki nodded. “I’m the designated driver tonight so I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”

Malcolm’s head waved up and down against his broad shoulders. He blew a low sigh. He understood the rite of passage. Had himself overindulged when he’d been able to drink legally. But overindulging had become a bad habit that had almost destroyed his life. It made him ultrasensitive to the behavior of the younger crowd that seemed to enjoy the club’s happenings to excess.

He blew another deep sigh as he eased through the crowd to the bar. Lawrence “Rome. . .