Do Not Disturb 2 (2 page)

To fall in love was to shut your eyes and leap, hoping as you plummeted down someone would catch you. Never allow harm to come to you.

Keisha jumped, feeling the smile on her face as she dove into the unknown. "Okay. I'll move in with you."

Chapter Two

Jake

“Have you completely lost your mind?”

Jake Cunningham had always been grateful that his father, Conrad, never minced words.

Since he was the son of a successful entrepreneur that had his fingers in just about every successful pie in the continental US, Jake had always been treated with kid gloves. Throughout most of his youth, he’d always questioned if his teachers and friends only got close out of hopes that manna would rain from heaven or tiptoed around him out of fear that they’d fall out of his father’s good graces.

He could always count on his father to give it to him straight—but he found a part of him wished he could at least pretend to be happy about Keisha, even though he knew it was fool’s hope.

“I mean, this is completely insane, Jake,” Conrad railed on, loosening his tie.

“According to Dr. Jackman, I’ve got a clean bill of mental health—in fact, she says I’m the happiest she’s seen in a long time.”

It was the truth. Considering Marshal’s team had been pulling out all the stops, digging out every skeleton and quote taken out of context to bloody him in the public eye, it had to be the gospel truth. Last race, he’d lived in the gym, sweating it out to keep from exploding. But how could he be upset, how could he take anything personal when he knew Keisha would be waiting for him at the end of the tunnel?

He’d get no complaints from Jake. It was hard to believe that just four months ago he’d spent most of his waking moments wondering where he went wrong, craving the way her hair smelled, missing her son’s lopsided smile, longing to pummel her asshole ex-boyfriend. She’d probably shacked back up with him by now.

It didn’t matter. Trixie ending things was a blessing in disguise. The heartbreak paved the road to Keisha and Caleb.

His father signaled the waiter as he settled in his chair. Jake smirked as he took him in. How his father managed to make a plush seat in Bibbus Restaurant look like a throne was a thing of skill. But Jake wasn’t his subject. He could order him to end things with Keisha ‘til he turned blue in the face, but it was a waste of time.

“I’m sure she’s-” Conrad paused, probably trying to think of a word other than ‘tawdry’, ‘poor’, or ‘black’. It was his father’s trifecta of doom, even though his investment firm was involved with numerous inner city charities. Jake knew that beneath the flashing bulbs and publicity, his dad was a bit of a racist.

“She’s what, Dad?”

“Lovely,” Conrad said after taking a sip of wine. “But now is just not the time to be taking on anymore scandal. Not when you’re trailing Marsh by ten points.”

Jake sliced his steak with sharp jabs. “I’m sorry falling in love is inconvenient. But my mind’s made up, Dad. What Keisha and I have is real. And she’s not going anywhere.”

“Don’t be dramatic, son,” Conrad said icily. He scanned the stack of paper before him. “Keisha Nicole Wallace. 24 years old, born and raised in Teachey, North Carolina, moved to Mauryville at fifteen with her mother.” He stroked his chin. “She did excellent academically despite her handicaps.”

Jake felt the anger bubble at the heart of him. “And what handicaps would that be? Being black? Working class?”

Conrad ignored him. “Received a competitive scholarship to Harvard. Performed mediocrely and eventually dropped out when she discovered she was pregnant.” He shook his head slowly, his perfectly coifed features going sour. “You can do better, son. Even on a bad day.”

Jake’s anger spilt over and he slammed his fist on the table. “God damn it, Dad!”

Conrad polished off his wine, not even flinching. “Don’t make a scene.”

A flash of fury shuttled through him. He wanted to do so much more than ‘cause a scene’. He wanted to give the hoity toity diners that surrounded them a reason to clutch their pearls. He wanted to sock his father, wipe the self-righteous smirk right off his face. “I’m not gonna let you talk down about Keisha, or drive a wedge between us.” He rose to his feet, buttoning his jacket. He needed to get out of there before he did something he’d really regret.

“Sit down.”

“I’m not fifteen anymore, Dad,” Jake’s voice was a low rumble and Conrad’s face went pale.

They’d promised to never talk about that day again, but it came shuttling back. The way Jake felt powerless, his father’s iron grip tight around his throat. He couldn’t do anything then, but he was a grown man now. He didn’t have to grin and bear it.

Conrad cleared his throat. “I’m sorry if I offended you.” He gestured at the empty chair beside Jake. “Please sit back down.”

Jake jutted out his lip, not wanting to give an inch. It was easier to walk away when his father was being his normal, overbearing self, but now, he looked genuinely apologetic.

Jake slowly reached out and pivoted the chair back to the table and sunk into it. “No more trashing Keisha, or this lunch is over.”

“Don’t even waste your breath trying to convince me to bring him back on board,” Jake said without missing a beat. To be honest, he thought allowing his former advisor to leave his employ with both knees in tact was rather generous. Just thinking of him plotting, paying off Keisha’s coworker, trying to trick him into ending things, made him furious all over again.

“I’m not here to tell you to reinstate him, Jake.” Conrad gave the waiter a cordial smile when she brought their bill. He pulled out his black visa and the waitress took it and hustled away. “If you recall, I was against you hiring him in the first place.”

That was true. His dad believed he should have gone with someone with a little more campaign experience. But Roman had been with Jake from the beginning, back in college when the idea of being a senator, even with his father’s connections, seemed so far off and impossible. They’d been friends, best friends even, until he drew the line and leapt over it.

Jake hated to admit it, but his father had a slight point. Raven had the makings of a great strategist, but she still had a ways to go. “And I’m sure you have someone in mind.”

Conrad held his head high, sitting up like a lord on a great stead, explaining something painfully simple to a commoner. “I am at the front of a multi-billion dollar company. If I can take on the sharks, I’m more than capable of ensuring your win.”

His father came from humble beginnings, taking on the world with a shoe-string budget, building his empire from the ground up. But the thought of the two of them not going their separate ways, Jake back to the Hill and his father to NY, was unsettling. He already had to psych himself up for just spending a two hour lunch with him. Roman, as an advisor, had been a handful—his father would be a monster.

Conrad must have sensed the hesitation and sweetened the pot. “It’s a win/win, son. I’m cheap labor—and this will give me a chance to get to know Keisha and, uh, Carl.”

“Caleb.”

“Right. Caleb.” He looked him dead on. “So what’s your answer?”

Jake needed help. He had a laundry list of why it was a bad idea, but he couldn’t deny the benefits. Heck, having the extra set of hands would free him up for more time with Keisha.

He drew a deep breath, pushing aside his reservations. “Okay, Dad. You can help with the campaign.”

Chapter Three

Keisha

Keisha paused in front of the revolving door of Winterhorn Inn and Suites. Almost two years of thinking about the end, how she was working toward the goal of doing what she was moments from doing—marching up to Carmen and giving her two-weeks notice. No more dealing with guests that undressed her with their eyes, no more scrubbing toilets and listening to the never ending drone of the vacuum cleaner or her manager’s clipped condescension.

She pulled her crimson cardigan tight around her. As nice as giving her notice would be, she still had to soldier through two more weeks of maid service. She stepped toward the door and froze when she saw Monique’s reflection glittering beside her.

The rational part of her brain told her to just go in. No good would come from a confrontation. She listened to it, ‘til the trick opened her mouth.

“Well if it isn’t the First Lady.”

Monique’s very voice was like nails on a chalkboard, screeching and making Keisha wince. The angel on her shoulder said to ignore the schemer, but when Monique had the audacity to reach out and touch her, all bets were off.

Keisha spun to face Monique, her brown eyes flashing dangerously. “Don’t you dare put a hand on me!”

Monique returned the hand to her side, her lip twitching. “There’s no reason to be rude, sweetie.”

Sweetie? That was rich. “I’m not your sweetie.” She balled a fist. “Unless you have a little bit of that money put aside for plastic surgery, I’d think twice before you talk to or touch me again.”

Keisha faltered as she saw Maria hurrying down the sidewalk toward them. Monique wisely took the opportunity to push inside the hotel.

Now that Monique was out of Keisha’s line of sight, her blood went from a hard boil to a simmer and she let out a deep breath. “I can’t stomach her, Maria.”

Maria brought her in for a hug. “Don’t let her steal your joy. You’ve only got two weeks left and you’re out of this place.” She pulled back, surveying Keisha’s face. “Just keep your eye on the prize.”

Keisha nodded. Maria was right. As much joy as dotting Monique’s eyes would bring her, she wasn’t worth it.

Maria changed the subject as they pushed into the lobby. “So how was the celebration dinner?”

Keisha grinned, remembering. He’d been right about the manicotti. It had been delicious, but the main course had been him dropping the bombshell, asking her and Caleb to move in with him. “Dinner was incredible.”

Maria nudged her playfully. “It must have been one helluva dish of pasta—or are you holding something back?”

Keisha waved at the receptionist, delighting in her friend waiting with bated breath. “It’s kinda crazy…I mean, I still can’t believe it happened.”

Once they reached the landing, Maria gave her another bear hug. “Oh Keisha—I’m so happy for you! If anyone deserves this, it’s you, honey.” She squeezed tight. “I really mean it.”

It was nice to hear. After Holden, dealing with walking away from her Ivy League education, and her mother’s enduring cold shoulder for the past two years; all the dates, the disappointment, and the long hours, it was nice to hear someone say that she deserved a little happiness.

“We’re moving stuff this week and were thinking about having a little get together this weekend.” They stepped into the line in front of the time clock. “You’re invited of course.”