“No, he referred me to another doctor at his clinic.”
Kenya glanced at her watch. “I actually need to go meet him—er, my therapist—in an hour.”
“Do you want me to take you there?”
“Not so fast, Mama. I already see it in your eyes. You’re gonna go and run an assessment and let me know whether you think he’s good enough to be the father of your grandkids.”
Her mother chuckled, turning her eyes away. Too bad she didn’t know how accurate that might be. Solomon was still waiting for an answer from Kenya on his proposed fake-dating scenario, and she wasn’t quite sure what to say.
“Mm-mm. I’ll be fine, I promise. Salome is going to drive me. It’s our sisterly bonding time.” Never mind the fact that Salome wouldn’t be able to pick her up again after the appointment because of work. But she didn’t need her mother to shift her own schedule to get her. That’s what ride-sharing services were for.
“Well, I guess this still gives you something to do.” Her mother’s expression had a shade of relief that bothered Kenya. Funny that her mother wanted her to be doing some kind of work, while her actual employer wanted her to be doing none.
“Yep, that is what adults do, find some way to keep working so that they don’t have to sit down with all of their inner thoughts and fears.”
Mama pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes as she considered Kenya. “Since you are so adult now, should I pack up and take away this food I brought you?”
Kenya scoffed. “I may be grown, but I’m not foolish. Thank you, Mama, for feeding your pitiful child.”
Her mother smirked and pulled out another dish from her foldable basket. “Pitiful never, but you are welcome.”
After her mother left, Kenya opened the fridge. Two of the shelves were packed with containers. Her mother had even chopped up some fruit for her and placed it in individual bowls based on type. Kenya opened one, popped a strawberry slice in her mouth, and replaced the cover. She was thankful for the food, but that wasn’t enough to dispel her melancholy.
She hobbled over to the couch and sat down on her sapphire-toned cushion. The velvety texture soothed her senses, giving her a bit of familiar comfort.
Maybe she was making too big of a deal over what Solomon asked. But was the opportunity to attend a potentially elaborate wedding reason enough to do a favor for someone who once rejected her?
Her phone’s alarm went off, and she looked at the screen:LEAVE FOR PT. She sent a reminder text to Salome. After hitting send, she swiped through some notifications and then clicked on her Instagram. Maybe she could find a picture of Solomon’s family just to see what she was getting herself into. If she remembered correctly, he didn’t have too much on his page before, just random architectural pictures and the occasional cute animal.
“Softy,” she whispered, lingering on the photo of an adorable pile of puppies. Her fingers drifted down his page. She noticed a few photos of people who could be family, some of colleagues in scrubs. A fleck of cerulean blue and with it glimpses of green and gold.
She scrolled back up.
On one side of the photo was Solomon from what looked like several years ago, decked out in a tailored suit with an intricate sash over his shoulder, trimmed in gold. A woman stood on the other side, her dress gorgeous, form-fitting and long, green and gold intertwined. In the middle, a man wore a suit of blue, and stamped on the photo was what had stood out to her—a white circle with the cerulean blue logo of Blue Horizon, one of the largest engineering firms, with offices all over the country but based in Huntsville.
She had been dying to work with them because of their national and local reach and knack for throwing some swanky parties. Now here was Solomon and some woman—maybe a sister or a friend—hanging with the CEO like they were old friends. That company carried weight.
“Oh.” She placed a hand on her mouth as pieces of an idea began to fall into place. Solomon knew someone who would be the perfect vendor for Evelyn’s stipulations. They created cutting-edge software and related products used by businesses in the governmental sector and global marketplace. Not to mention that numerous contracts poured into their company, allowing them to employ a large chunk of the population. They were known as generous givers to the community and were involved in supporting several nonprofits. This would create additional PR support for the Bellon Group’s convention, especially with tangible inroads to give back to the community. Kenya closed her eyes, the implications spreading before her like the yellow brick road. “Siri, set an alarm for an hour from now labeled ‘Seal the deal.’”
“SOLOMON,why didn’t you tell me?” Solomon tucked his pen into the front pocket of his top and plopped down into the seat diagonal from Kenya. He grinned at the way she made herself at home in the Optima Clinic waiting room, her foot nestled on the wedge he’d given her at her first appointment. He had to admit, he kind of liked that this particular corner had become their meeting place. There was something grounding about seeing her there, waiting for him to come out.
“What is it that I failed to tell you?” He glanced at her ankle. “Have you been doing the RICE protocol at home?”
She waved his words away. “Yes, yes, Doctor.”
He chuckled. “Great. And have you thought more about what we talked about? Because I’ve been thinking more about it, and—”
Kenya raised her hand. “I thought I was the one asking questions. And I don’t really want to talk about your offer here—yet—but no, I needed to first ask about something else.”
“How about we gosomewhereelse to grab something to eat and talk about your something else?”
Kenya tapped her chin. “I actuallydoneed a ride home.” An alarm on her phone went off. She canceled it and shot him a grin. “And instead of getting an Uber, maybe my knight in a shining silver Volvo would be willing to take me.”
He pushed himself up. “Great. My lunch was terrible again, so I’m ready to eat.”
“But know this”—he halted at the hand Kenya wielded like a scepter—“I’ve dealt with multiple events and marketers with all sorts of agendas. I have some questions that I need answered before I even consider agreeing to this plan of yours. But yes, you can drive me to my apartment, thank you very much, and on the way to said apartment you can pick up some food while we talk in the car.”
He had the strongest urge to bow before Miss Majesty. But he offered his hand instead to help her up from her waiting-room throne.
