Pride and Consequence

Zakira coolly extracted her arm from Malik’s grasp, feeling her entire body tingle scandalously in response to the sweet gesture. “Mmm-mmm,” she replied, with a quick shake of her head. “I’ll be fine.”

He smiled and turned to the table. “Talk to you guys later.” He could feel Zakira’s eyes linger a bit longer than necessary on his departing figure before she forced her eyes back to the page she held.

Before he exited the dining room, he turned to cast one last look at her. The sight of his wife taking an active role in his business pleased him more than she would ever know.

The annoying beep of the intercom pierced the silence of the spacious corner office. Malik slammed his fist against the talk button with such force the machine jumped off the desk.

“What is it, Chanel?” he barked. Reading invoices and recipes, and going over the books for the better part of the morning, had taken a fierce toll on his mood.

“Sorry to bother you, Malik, but Tree’s out here to see you,” Chanel Levy informed her boss.

“Sorry, Chanel. It’s all right. Send him in,” Malik instructed, tossing the paperwork aside as he leaned back in his chair.

A slight frown crossed his dark face when his best friend and lawyer Trekel Grisani walked into the office. “What’s wrong?” Malik asked the moment the door closed.

Tree’s long black lashes closed over his dark eyes as he shook his head. “Everything’s fine, man,” he assured his friend.

Malik visibly relaxed and leaned back a little further in the brown leather chair. “So what’s up? I don’t usually get visits from lawyers in the middle of the day.”

Tree grinned, lowering his massive frame into one of the chairs before the wide desk. “You got a problem with me coming by?”

Malik shrugged. “Nah. You want me to have somethin’ sent up from the kitchen?”

Tree waved his hand and grimaced. “Thanks, I’m cool.” He propped the side of his face against his palm and waited. When Malik remained silent, he sighed. “I think we’ve done enough small talk, man.”

Malik’s heavy brows drew close. “Small talk?” he repeated, purposely misunderstanding.

Tree expelled a frustrated sigh and leaned forward. “Man, will you please give it up? Have you heard anything from Doctor McNeil?”

At Tree’s mention of the doctor’s name, Malik instantly tensed. “I only saw him two days ago,” he murmured, his deep voice raspy with aggravation.

Tree pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. “All right, so it’s been two days. Shouldn’t they have the results from your tests by now?”

Malik pounded his fist against his thigh. “I doubt it.” He sighed.

“I don’t understand why it’s taking so long,” Tree complained.

In spite of his foul mood, Malik managed to laugh. “We are talkin’ about cancer here, man. I think Doctor McNeil wants to be sure when he tells me I’m about to die.”

Tree realized how unnerving the situation was for his friend. He suddenly regretted having mentioned anything about the tests. “I think you’re overreacting now, Mal.”

“I’m not so sure after what happened,” Malik admitted, shaking his head.

Tree’s long brows drew together as a frown further darkened his extremely handsome face. “What happened with what?”

Malik rubbed one hand through his dreads and stared out the office window that overlooked downtown Richmond. “Zakira’s been having a dream for the last few weeks. She finally told me that all she can see is a man laid out in black, surrounded by candles.”

Tree’s brows rose expectantly. “And?”

Malik turned and shot Tree a murderous glare. “Hell, man, that could be me laid out dead.”

A smile brightened Tree’s handsome face. “Man, I think you’re letting this get to you too much.”

Malik turned back to the windows and braced his hands on the dark paneled sill. “We both know that could be me. The only thing missing is the casket.”

“Mal,” Tree cautioned, but even he found it somewhat unsettling.

A few days later, Zakira opened the door and her smile widened at the sight of her stepsister. “Cold?” she teased the woman standing there with her arms wrapped around her slender form, shivering.

Edwina Harris rolled her almond-shaped eyes to the overcast sky before she rushed past Zakira and hurried into the living room where there was a fireplace.

“Dammit, Z,” she groaned, stomping one stylish, hiking boot shod foot to the carpet. “Why haven’t you made a fire yet, girl?”

Zakira stared at Edwina for a moment, a dumbfounded expression on her face. Then she slapped her hands against her sides. “I never thought about it.”

“Do you have any idea how cold it is outside?” Eddie calmly inquired, propping one hand on her slender hip.

Zakira shook her head and walked over to take her stepsister by the hand. “I’ve been in the kitchen all morning. Come on, I’ll fix you some coffee.”

Eddie held back. “Make it tea and you’ve got a deal.”

“No problem,” Zakira obliged, leading the way down the carpeted hallway.

The moment Eddie stepped past the arched doorway of the kitchen, her eyes closed and a serene smile crossed her lips. “Mmm…what are you making?”

Zakira’s expression was filled with pride as she listened to her sister marvel over the fabulous smells wafting in the air. “What does it smell like?” she teased.

Eddie shot her a wicked glare. “It smells like something I want a piece of.”

Zakira clasped her hands and rushed to the cupboard to retrieve a plate. A fantastic cook, like her husband, she always relished the chance to show off her culinary talents. Edwina, of course, didn’t mind sampling the dishes.

“What is it?” Eddie asked, watching Zakira scoop out what appeared to be a miniature pie.

A surprised expression touched Zakira’s face as she set a fork on the side of the plate. “I know you’ve had chicken potpie before.”

Edwina nodded, accepting the plate. “I have, but none that ever smelled like this,” she whispered, breaking the pie’s flaky crust with her fork. A delighted gasp escaped her mouth when chunks of potatoes, carrots and chicken tumbled onto the plate.

“That’s because I use fresh ingredients and the crust is seasoned,” Zakira revealed smugly.

“Mmm,” Eddie sighed, when she tasted the delicious creation. “With what?”

Zakira took a plate from the cupboard and served herself. “Herbs from our garden out back.”

“Well, it’s delicious,” Eddie complimented.

Bowing her head, Zakira acknowledged the compliment. “Thanks. So, um, what brings you by today?” she asked. Hearing Edwina’s long, dramatic sigh, she already knew the answer.

“Men,” Eddie breathed.