Page 20 of Sweetest Temptation
Jamila tilted her head, watching me too closely. “You’re hesitating again, which means it’s not about the numbers. It’s about her.”
“Jamila, I just told you it was more than business. It’s…” I stopped myself from saying anything further.
“Samir,” my mother said gently, “sometimes God puts people in your path for more than one reason. Don’t let pride make you miss an opportunity. Be wise, son.”
I exhaled slowly, forcing a calm expression even though my pulse was drumming harder than I wanted to admit. “I’ll think about it.”
Jamila rolled her eyes. “Don’t think too long. The launch date is locked in. We need to move on this before your trip.” She grabbed her tablet and stormed out, leaving me alone with my mother’s knowing gaze.
“You can fool yourself, but you can’t fool me. That girl rattled you. I can see it all over your face.”
I leaned forward, elbows on the desk, dragging a hand down my face. My mother wasn’t lying. Zanova had me twisted in ways no woman ever had, and the fact that she was a go-getter only made me want her more.
Looking at her with a half-smirk that didn’t quite reach my eyes, I exhaled. “Mama, I’m a grown man. A woman can’t rattle me. Not like that.”
She tilted her head, giving me that look, the one that always made me feel like she could see right through every lie I ever tried to tell.
I sighed, dragging my hand across my beard. “All right, maybe she did get under my skin a little. But that’s exactly why I turned her down. I can’t have distractions like that mixing with business. It’s messy. You raised me better than to let a pretty face throw me off my game.”
Her smile was faint but knowing. She walked toward the door and turned to me. “I also raised you to not confuse discipline with fear, son. There’s a difference. So, you like this girl?”
I shook my head, letting out a dry chuckle. “Fear? Mama, I don’t fear no woman. And I might like her a little bit.” I matched her look.
“Then why are you running from this one? She must be something special if she has you acting like this from two encounters. I see I might be getting a daughter-in-law soon, and some grandbabies. I’ll call you. Love you.” She was gone before I could even reply.
The question hit harder than I wanted it to. I kept my face cool, but after she left, her words echoed in the silence of my office, cutting deeper than I cared to admit.
What the hell was wrong with me? I barely knew this chick, and she has a nigga tripping.
For the past couple of hours, my dad and I had been knee-deep in cardboard boxes. Tools scattered across the floor as we pieced together furniture one screw at a time. The sound of a drill buzzed in the background, mixing with the faint sounds of the city coming through my balcony doors. Sweat clung to my forehead, but I didn’t care; I was finally home.
Yesterday, I moved into my condo, and I couldn’t be more excited. It wasn’t just a new place; this was a fresh start for me since my divorce. Clean walls, high ceilings, and not a single memory of Jerome lurking in the corners is what I could now come home to.
The realtor who sold me this place had also helped me put my old house on the market. Signing those papers felt like closing a chapter I should’ve ended a long time ago. Jerome could pop up all he wanted now; it wouldn’t matter. That house wasn’t mine anymore. That life wasn’t mine anymore.
I took a moment to look around, letting my eyes soak in every detail of my new sanctuary. It was a two-bedroom, two-bath nestled in Melville Row, one of the nicest parts of town. It wasn’t too far from where my new bakery was located, which was perfect. I knew I’d be spending a lot of time there to get it up and running to my liking. It was near everything for me to have a more social lifestyle too. There were wine bars, which I loved, cafes, restaurants, and more. I barely had to drive if I didn’t need to.
What I love most about my unit is that it has an open floor plan with floor-to-ceiling windows that let natural sunlight pour in, making the marble floors shine like liquid glass. The kitchen gleamed with the quartzite countertops and stainless steel appliances, a chef’s dream that still felt surreal to call mine. But it was the double oven that really sold the place to me—a small but symbolic luxury that whispered, “You made it.” My favorite spot was the balcony off the living room. Since I was on the twelfth floor, you could see the city’s skyline stretched out like a painting. It wasn’t just a condo, it was a statement. A promise to myself. A reminder that I deserved more than Jerome ever gave me, and a start of something new.
Shaking off thoughts of my past, my mind curled back to that night at the lounge. He routinely invaded my thoughts like an uninvited guest. It seemed I couldn’t shake Samir no matter how hard I tried.
The nerve of him. Cocky. Rude. So full of himself, and yet here I was, still thinking about a man I swore I’d never give the time of day to. Of course, I thought he was handsome—too handsome, if I were being honest. Those dark eyes and alluring aura, and the way his voice dipped low when he spoke to me. Ugh! I pressed my lips together, irritated at myself for even remembering those details.
“It’s coming together nicely, Pumpkin. I’m proud of you for making this decision.” My dad wiped his hands on his jeans, giving me a satisfied nod as he tightened the last screw on the coffee table.
I smiled, leaning back against the couch, letting the weight of his words sink in. “Thanks, Dad.”
I knew he didn't just mean me moving. He meant me moving on—rebuilding and reclaiming my peace. And for the first time in a long time, I actually believed it.
My dad glanced toward the kitchen, then clapped his hands together. “All right! Time for a break.” He walked over to the fridge, pulled out two cold bottles of sparkling cider I’d stocked, and popped the tops like it was champagne. Handing one to me, he lifted his bottle. “To new beginnings,” he said, his voice low and steady, carrying the weight of everything we both knew but didn’t have to say. “And leaving the past exactly where that trash belongs… Behind you.”
I tapped my bottle against his, my throat tightening as I held back tears. “To peace, happiness, and never settling for less again.”
We both took long swigs, and for the first time in years, the sip actually tasted like freedom.
“Okay, I’m going to get out of here. All of your furniture is put together. I think you can handle the unboxing. I need a shower and some food. Your mother made some lamb chops for dinner. For dessert, I’m having her.” He gave me a knowing smile, and I almost threw up my cider.
“Eww! Dad! You could’ve kept that last part to yourself.”
