5: No allowances

Friday came slower than Kelvin wished. His date with Leilani was slated for 5 pm, but he had been at the chosen restaurant since 2 pm. Amara, his assistant, sat across from him in their private booth, sorting through files and making notes on her iPad. Bottles of water, wine glasses, and two chinaware with leftovers from their late lunch littered the table. The white covering reminded him of the tablecloth from Saturday’s wedding.

Never again would he make a bet with his younger sister. Yet he couldn’t fight off the twitch at the corner of his lips.

Leilani.

A thrill rushed through him at the thought of seeing her again today. She requested another date before she would agree to his proposal. He was fine with whatever she demanded, as long as she would marry him.

A waiter came to clear their table, and Amara thanked him. He barely spared the man a glance. Soft music played in the background. He preferred silence while he worked, but he couldn’t ask other patrons to leave. His new office wasn’t ready, and he wasn’t interested in coffee shops because of the noise, so he was stuck with private booths at high-end restaurants. What was supposed to be a brief trip to California might turn into a full stay if this marriage worked.

Amara pushed a file closer to him. It was the contract. He lifted his head, a frown wrinkling his lips as he stared at the curtain that sectioned his booth from the other patrons. The glow of the fancy lamps lining the closed windows fell to the top of Amara’s black hair, making it appear lighter than it usually was. His expression was blank as he flipped through the pages. Amara held on to one copy while he looked through his. Once signed, he would send Leilani her copy.

“Are you sure she’s the one?” he asked.

The lines of the marriage contract jumped at him, especially the clause he inserted to reassure Leilani of his faithfulness.

“Yes, sir. Everything points at it being her.”

Silence befriended them as he continued reading through the contract until Amara cleared her throat. He ignored it, but she did it again. Their years together as boss and assistant made him aware of her cues.

“Speak your mind,” he stated.

“Isn’t it too much?” she asked. He placed the file on the table, and she coughed into her fist. She was vocal about her dislike for that clause when he suggested it, so it was interesting to see her shrink now. “Giving up fifteen percent of your net worth in the event that you cheat, treat her wrong, or give her any reason to leave you is harsh. That’s a lot, sir, isn’t it?”

“No.”

It only meant he had to spend their first two years together being a good, faithful husband. Amara’s concerns were not unfounded. His mother would faint or have a brain aneurysm if she found this out, so she could never know. But now that the subject was out in the open again, his doubts returned to taunt him. He was certain Leilani had glimpsed the frayed bracelet on his wrist. She didn’t recognize it, or maybe she hadn’t remembered.

Amara shifted on the single plush sofa across from him. There were some work documents in the pile she had brought him, but he wasn’t ready to deal with that now. Handling this new deal would take more from him than he was willing to give. If this worked, he would have someone to share that loneliness with him. He spied on his wristwatch. Thirty minutes until she arrived.

“You should leave,” Kelvin told his assistant. She stood, and the lamps bathed her brown skin in a gold hue. Grabbing her handbag off the floor, she hiked the strap over her shoulder. “We will continue next week.”

“Yes, sir.” She pointed at the leather-bound file on the table, and he scowled. It had been too long since the mention of work irritated him. He couldn’t wait for this giddiness to pass, because he needed a good head on his shoulder by Monday. “The details for next week’s meeting are there. I’ll also email you another copy. Have a lovely weekend, Mr. McKenna. Good luck with her.”

Against his will, his lips pulled into the semblance of a grin, and Amara chuckled. Once she walked out, he tucked every work-related file into his briefcase. He still had time to spare, so he busied himself with a game from the company they had acquired.

Someone cleared their throat. It sounded too close for him to ignore it. The moment his head raised, he almost dropped his phone.

Leilani waved.

One look at his wristwatch showed… “You are early,” he told her. By fifteen minutes.

“Yeah. I hate to be kept waiting. You’re early too.”

He recovered from whatever trance he was in and stood. Reaching for her bag, his hand went to her lower back to guide her to his seat. It was big enough for them to sit comfortably.

“Yeah. Me too. I hate lateness,” he said, remembering she had spoken to him. That was the reason he had sacked a few too many people. She sank onto the couch but edged closer to the other side so there was a safe distance between them when he sat. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice when you entered.”

Her brown eyes crinkled, and that took him down memory lane. He should have hugged her.

“It’s fine,” she said. Today, she was wearing only lip gloss. His gaze trailed to the distinct birthmark on her jaw. If he forgot anything, he could never forget that. His eyes flicked back to hers, and a nervous laughter ripped out of her. “Am I the only anxious one?”

“Of course not.” But his demeanor exuded confidence. Her outfit was a cute black dress that hiked up her knees when she crossed her legs, and a single line of pearls adorned her neck. He wanted to finger it and drag his thumb across that beauty mark. “Seems like you came straight from work.”

“Yeah. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all,” he replied. “You must have a thing for the color black.”

“Why?” she asked. He nodded at her dress, and she laughed. Both times they met, she was wearing a black dress. “I could say the same for you, Kelvin. Black is just more comfortable.”

Kelvin waited, probably for her to mention her favorite color so he’d reinforce his beliefs, but she didn’t say more.

He slid the menu closer to her, and she picked it up without opening it. “What would you like to have?”

“Honestly?” He nodded for her to continue, and she added, “I don’t think I can stomach anything until we finalize our conversation.”

“Should we go somewhere else?”

“Probably not,” she said. “Can we get to it?”

Kelvin would have preferred a chitchat first, but she didn’t seem to be in the mood for one. She rubbed a hand over her nape, turning her head like she wanted to get rid of a kink stuck there. He pushed the file to her so they could get started. She flipped her ponytail over one shoulder, moving it to the other less than a moment later.

“Maybe you should let your hair down,” he offered. It was down when they first met.

“And take my shoes off,” she muttered with a smile.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did any of that.”

Whatever she saw in his eyes encouraged her to kick off her heels. She sighed, falling back to the couch with a sigh. He hid a smile, glad to be the reason for her relief.

“My feet have been killing me all day.”

“Why do you bother wearing them?”

No one could force him to do whatever he didn’t want.

“Work. They are compulsory.” Bringing her thumb and index finger close with only a small gap between them, she said, “Must be at least two inches. Stupid rules, I tell you.”

“Then why don’t you quit?”

Leilani laughed, her head tipping forward as she clapped a manicured hand over her mouth. The sound pricked his skin like tiny needles. What was wrong with his question?

“Are you being serious right now?” she asked.

He was, but he faked a laugh. “Not at all.”

“Anyway, let’s get to the contract.”