Beauty Beheld, page 4
Once Hunter handed me the wrapped plasticware, I dug in eagerly.
The chatty stranger let a few moments pass before asking, “Are you attending the marketing conference?”
I hesitated before offering a curt nod, keeping my eyes on my plate and hoping he would get the blatant message that I wanted to be left alone. Why does this always happen to me? I’m hangry and in no mood for Southern hospitality. Trice warned me this would happen if I opted to venture off amongst the locals on my own, I steamed. After a slow sip of wine, I glanced up at the television, my leg jumping below the oak bar ledge. But I still watched him in my peripheral vision.
Seeming to finally take the hint, he stood and downed the rest of his drink before fishing his wallet out of his slacks. “Hunter, put her next glass on my tab and close me out, please.”
I shook my head in protest. “Hunter, please don’t do that.”
“Miss, it’s my pleasure.”
Figuring he wasn’t going to let it go, I decided to just take the drink and thank him. And that was when I got a good look at him. I froze mid-chew as I took him in. My breath caught in my throat for a moment. My eyes swept downward as I continued to give him a full once-over. He was easily the most striking man I’d ever laid eyes on. Dead-ass facts. I wasn’t saying he was Kofi Siriboe, but since I’d never laid eyes on that particular chocolate masterpiece up close and personal, I figured it was safe to make that statement. I digress; he was fine, and although I wondered if he would look as yummy as Kofi fully nude while wearing a grapefruit . . . or two, I was not interested in meeting anyone at that moment.
I recomposed myself and smiled weakly, unable to locate my voice, so I settled for nodding my gratitude before returning my attention to my meal. Thank God for small favors like top-notch poker-face skills because more than half of me was dying to lick my lips, throw back the rest of my wine, and yell, “Eff it! My room is right upstairs.” The savory, sweet musk of his cologne hung in the air between us, and I fought to maintain control of myself—fully convinced he would somehow pick up on the cues of my raging internal battle.
I turned to take a slow, deep, composing inhalation. The thin straw in my wine glass met my eager lips, but the damn thing wasn’t wide enough to allow me to slurp the remaining contents of my wine like I desperately needed to. I had to do something to stop myself from wondering what his body looked like beneath the freshly pressed clothes he had selected so carefully. Hunter must have picked up on my desperation because he topped me off without a word. Reeling from the thrilling power of what exactly could pop off if I only said the word, I slowly closed my eyes to relish the cool liquid cascading down my throat and attempted to redirect my unrelenting thoughts.
With force, I reminded myself that I was in Atlanta on my company’s dime, not for a shameless sexual tryst—because that was all it could be. Besides, my room was adjoined to Trice’s, and my other coworkers were a mere floor above us. Trice was cool, but I didn’t need the others witnessing me stepping onto an elevator with a strange man and therefore inserting their pointy noses into my personal affairs. They weren’t prone to starting rumor mills, but the office was small and full of women, so I wasn’t going to supply them with any motivation.
I shoved another forkful of pasta into my mouth. As Hunter ran the gentleman’s credit card, we listened to the muted buzz of collective background chatter, our thoughts undoubtedly forging separate paths. But mine ultimately led me right back to the fine specimen less than six feet away like a speeding boomerang. My mind went to the queen-size bed waiting for me upstairs. Cold and empty. Not unlike the empty bed that waited for me back home in Cleveland. I mentally counted the number of weeks since the last time a hard body was on top of mine, or beneath mine, or behind mine . . .
It wasn’t until that moment that I realized I had actually lost track. Daniel had been so busy with school and work that our schedules had barely synced up for the weeks leading to the breakup. Had it really been more than a month since I’d last had sex? I groaned inwardly as I caught another peripheral view of him signing the slip of paper and sliding a cash tip across the bar top. The seconds are winding down, Pae. What are you going to do? Hope and pray he’ll say something else to your rude ass in the next five seconds? Highly unlikely. You’ve already ravaged the man’s ego. Make a move; it’s now or never, my thoughts echoed in a frenzied crescendo in my head.
I forced myself to glance over at him, opening my mouth to finally thank him, but I was already watching his fine ass retreating as he casually strolled across the lobby and out of the hotel.
3
Grabbing my purse, I said, “Hunter, can you watch my belongings for a minute?” I didn’t stick around to catch his response before bolting toward the lobby of the contemporary hotel. I weaved through the sea of people exiting the ballroom at the conclusion of the final seminar, the one I’d just cut short in search of food. What the hell am I even doing? I should be heading upstairs to avoid this crowd, not charging right into it.
Keeping my eyes on his retreating back, I pushed my short legs as far as they would go to lessen the distance between Mr. Charisma and me.
“Damn, that man can move,” I puffed. Of course, he’s moving fast. You bruised his ego. A man’s pride is a powerful drug. I had no idea what I would say to him once I caught up with him, but something was urging me forward. I needed to keep him from leaving the hotel.
I caught sight of Mr. Charisma on the other side of the sliding doors. He was approaching a Land Rover that was waiting for him at the curb. I broke out in a full sprint, scared half to death of twisting my ankle in my five-inch stilettos. In hindsight, I realize I was undoubtedly propelled by long-ignored raging hormones as I moved like Flo Jo through the thickening crowd.
“Excuse me,” I called just as the car’s back door was opened for him by a short man wearing a uniform.
They both looked up, and I locked eyes with him.
His handsome face was stunned and curious. “Did I leave something behind?” He patted his pants pockets.
I shook my head, trying not to appear winded, although the impromptu sprint and Southern humidity—it was on a whole ’notha level—had me on the verge of collapse. “No . . . I . . .” I looked up at him and froze once our eyes locked for the second time. Just the sight of him was mesmerizing. It had been a long time since I had interacted with someone so poised, polished, and possessing an easy charm like his. Although I couldn’t find another word, he must have read my mind.
“Seth, can you give us a moment?” he asked before leaning in to whisper something else into his driver’s ear.
Seth nodded and turned to enter the driver’s side of the car. Mr. Charisma extended his arm, ushering me toward a bench resting against the hotel’s exterior wall. Then he stood, watching me expectantly. No longer trusting my knees, I took a seat. He followed suit and angled his long, lean body inward, giving me his full attention.
I fumbled with my fingers, still struggling to locate my next words. But my mind was a blank slate, and no words came. I suddenly felt like a desperate fool, running after this strange man. You’re not in a damn rom-com. Who in the world does this? I thought.
He leaned down to get a better look at my face. “There’s something on your mind.”
I looked up at him. His eyes were so intriguing, and he actually seemed to care about what was going on with me. So, next, I was blurting out, “I’m reluctant to embrace new relationships . . .”
His brow eased upward, and I immediately regretted my rushed words.
“Not romantically speaking . . . just any new interactions with people I don’t know. Opening myself up to even small talk just isn’t me—especially after a long week of seminars, meetings, and training, which have left me drained. Nevertheless, I was rude to push you away when you were only attempting to carry on a little small talk. I want to apologize to you for that and thank you for your generosity.” Floundering helplessly in my pool of vulnerability, I studied his face for the least bit of empathy.
His expression told me the last thing he expected was a forthcoming confession from me. I squirmed nervously as he took a few moments to process and respond.
“I can appreciate that. But I’m originally from New York City, so I’m pretty used to getting the brush-off. I’m also not easily offended. You’re all good with me.” He gently patted my hand and stood.
Honey, when I say the electricity in that brief physical contact was enough to light up Times Square on New Year’s Eve, I tell no lies. My heart soared for a moment without a care, right before it sank. I knew I didn’t have anything else to offer him other than an unspoken apology, but I wanted so much more. I sucked at small talk, and although I knew exactly what I wanted from him, I had never pursued a man before. So, I was stuck between watching him walk off and sticking my neck out once again like a damn fool.
“Enjoy the rest of your convention and travel safely.” He looked at me once more before slipping into the back of the truck.
Helpless, I watched from the bench as the driver started the engine to pull off. Seconds later, the hotel’s revolving door slowly whirled, and a man, whom I quickly recognized as Hunter, walked up and handed the tall dark stranger a receipt through the car’s cracked window. That was when I noticed that Hunter was holding my briefcase and a plastic bag.
I stood, puzzled, as he made his way over to me. “Ms. Hampton, Mr. Davenport requested that I close out your bill and box up your food so it wouldn’t get cold. I hope it’s okay that I also took the liberty of bringing your belongings out here to you, as I didn’t know how long you would be gone.”
Listening to Hunter, I glanced at the truck, which was still waiting curbside.
Who in the world is this man? My eyes rested on the car as my pulse throbbed wildly in my throat. Why am I drawn to him like this? I wanted to run to him and jump into that car without a second thought. But I was in a strange city, and no one knew exactly where I was at that moment. I immediately thought of my no-girl-left-behind pact with Trice. What if something happened to me? She would find me, then kill me her damn self.
As if reading my thoughts, Hunter’s eyes lit up. He gave me a subtle nod and a lopsided grin. “Mr. Davenport’s in here all the time. He’s really a great guy.”
I didn’t know a damn thing about Hunter’s ass, either. I gazed past him as Seth stepped around to the back of the car. Then he stood, patiently waiting as he held open the car door. I offered my trust to those three strange men, and the last of my inhibitions gently blew away with the Southern afternoon breeze. I smiled my thanks to Hunter and took my belongings from him before pressing a cash tip into his palm. Then, on shaky legs, I walked over to the car and slid into the backseat.
The crisp air and butter-soft leather seat cooled my bare thighs. Mr. Charisma’s eyes were trained on me, and his full lips pursed slightly as if he were fighting back a smile.
“Hello, again,” I said, sweeping a tendril of hair behind my ear.
“Hello. Pleased you were able to join me.”
“Yes, me too. Thank you for dinner. That was kind of you. Are you a guest of the hotel?”
He shook his head. “No, ma’am. Just wrapped up an all-day client meeting with my team. Our client is staying here.”
“Oh, what do you do?”
“I’m a software engineer.”
“That’s a good look. We definitely need more minorities and women in the computer science industry.”
I waited for him to ask me my name or what I did for a living but instead found myself wiggling under his thoughtful gaze. I asked, “So, are you headed anywhere in particular this evening?”
He turned and gazed out of the window for a moment before responding, and I took that opportunity to take in his fresh fade. Then he said, “No, not particularly. Now that you’ve joined me, do you have any requests?”
I thought for a moment and said, “I’ve always wanted to see Centennial Olympic Park.”
He nodded thoughtfully, his eyes still pointed away from me. “First time in Atlanta?”
Why wasn’t he looking at me? Once I realized I was kneading my hands, I rubbed them down the front of my skirt instead. “Yes. I’ve been stuck in meetings for the majority of my time here. It would be nice to actually get out and see a part of the city—other than clubs and bars—for a bit. That is, if you don’t mind being my host for a little while.”
When he finally turned to face me, the smirk was gone. That was when I noticed the intensity of his eyes. They were glued to mine, giving me nowhere to escape. I fidgeted a bit as he offered another small smile that I couldn’t read.
“No, I wouldn’t mind at all. Hey, Seth. You mind swinging us by Centennial for a few?”
“Not at all, Lennox.”
Lennox. Lennox Davenport. The strength of his name shook something deep within me. It was unique, yet it rolled around in my mind with ease. I was desperate to experience the impression it would have on my tongue when I got the chance to speak it . . . or shout it. I gasped. What in the world was up with me?
His brow lifted, and I realized he’d just asked me something.
“Sorry?”
He fought back another smile, and I was clueless about what he found amusing. “I said, your timing is perfect because we’ll be able to catch the sunset.”
“Dope. I didn’t figure you for a romantic.”
He blinked. “How could you figure me for anything? We just met.”
“Consider me checked,” I said. “We haven’t properly met. My name is Patience Hampton.”
“Lennox Davenport,” he said, extending his large hand to me.
I hesitated before slipping mine between his thumb and long fingers. He gave my hand a firm, brief shake, then a gentle squeeze. His skin was warm and surprisingly soft. I gazed down at his manicured nails. When he finally released my hand, I didn’t know what to do with it, so I fingered my hair.
“Nice to meet you, Patience. Your name suits you.”
“How could you know what suits me? We just met,” I quipped.
His head rolled back slightly on his neck, and that was the only response I got from him. It was my turn to gaze out the window to hide my smile.
After a few moments of tapping on his phone, he broke the silence between us. “So, to further address your previous question, I’m not a guest of your hotel or any hotel, for that matter. I’m actually a new resident of this great city. I moved here from New York when my job transferred me last year.”
“Oh.” My heart sank. A small part of me was hoping he was attending the conference like me and lived closer to Cleveland. Then I admonished myself for even thinking about him that way, knowing I wasn’t in the emotional state to entertain a new relationship. “That’s quite a transfer. May I ask what you’re currently working on?”
He nodded. “My company just acquired a smaller software company based here in Atlanta, so we’re doing some troubleshooting and training staff. It was a bit of a culture shock for me. The sales process is definitely slower-paced, and there’s a lot more relationship-building involved than with my New York clients. But I welcomed the opportunity and came here with an open mind. I’ve had a great time immersing myself in the history and customs here. Learning as much as I can while I can.”
A man of very few words . . . until you get him talking about something he’s passionate about, I noted. “Oh, so it looks like I chose the perfect tour guide. Or, rather, he chose me.”
He pursed his lips thoughtfully.
“I must admit, I’m quite jealous of your recent transplant. I was born and raised in Cleveland, and although I attended college out of state and have done some traveling, I’ve always called Cleveland my only home.”
He frowned. Damn. Each new expression of his stimulated something in me.
“I don’t see anything wrong with that. Unless you’ve been outright denying yourself the pleasure of living elsewhere. What’s kept you there all this time?”
I shrugged. “Mostly family. Friends . . .” Complacency.
It was his turn to shrug as if to say, You like it, I love it.
I avoided eye contact with him, quickly losing myself in the metropolitan scenery as we traveled northwest on Luckie toward Peachtree. We inched closer to our destination in the early evening traffic, and my thoughts consumed me. Shame consumed me, prickling my skin. He hadn’t done anything to make me feel that way, but my own realization that I didn’t have much to share with him regarding my career goals made me a bit insecure.
Compared with his ambition, I was embarrassed by my own lack of drive regarding my professional goals for the first time. There was a new job posted at my company, and I’d thrown my hat into the ring. But I was up against some steep competition from associates on the West Coast, so I didn’t plan to lift my hopes up. I’d been so busy supporting Daniel for the past five years that I’d put my own professional aspirations on the back burner. Here Lennox was, living nearly a thousand miles away from his home, enjoying this beautiful city while I was wasting away at the same job for several years. It wasn’t until that moment that I felt unfulfilled and . . . lonely.
My cheeks grew hot, and my pulse thumped in my ears as a montage of my dry-ass life flashed before my eyes, knowing I only had my own personal choices to blame for it all.
After a few minutes, I turned to him and asked, “How far are we from the park?”
He looked up from his phone and gazed out the window. “Probably about half a mile.”
“I need to get out of this car. Let’s walk the rest of the way.”
Without hesitation, he said, “Okay, let’s go.”
Once Seth pulled over to the curb, we hopped out of the car and headed back out into the humidity. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with fresh air, and was immediately feeling better. I’d spent enough time cooped up indoors and was ready to experience what the city had to offer. Together, we set off toward our destination on foot. As we laughed and talked, I secretly took him in. With his hands in his pockets, he strolled down the busy sidewalk, fully comfortable in his own skin, not overconfident, just well aware of who he was. I listened intently as he talked about all of the cities he had lived in before Atlanta. He had a magnetic nature about him, and I immediately vibed with everything that fell from his lips.
