Do Not Disturb 2 (3 page)

Keisha laughed. “I’m not that bad a cook!” If you didn’t count the time she made a cherry pie that was delicious except for the fact that she didn’t realize she’d left the pits inside. And the quiche that ended up like an egg balloon. And then there was the time she’d almost burned down the apartment when she was making macaroni…

Keisha smoothed the front of her frock, pivoting and seeing the annoyed set of Carmen’s jaw. Great. What was she gonna complain about today?

“I’ll clock you in,” Maria whispered.

Keisha walked toward the dreaded office, knowing that Carmen only allowed the maids inside if she gonna chew them out. She repeated, ‘Two more weeks, two more weeks’ over and over, praying for the strength to not run off at the mouth. She had to hold her peace.

Carmen held open the door and she scanned the cluttered room, thinking silently that one would think the office of someone working in the cleaning industry would look a little less like a tornado had ravaged it. There was only one chair that wasn’t covered to the brim with papers and cleaning products that obviously didn’t get any use. The surfaces that weren’t filled with rubbish had a chalky sheen of dust.

Keisha stood awkwardly near the desk as Carmen closed the door. She gestured at the lone chair. “Have a seat.”

Keisha scooped up some of the paperwork and put it in her lap, sitting ramrod straight as Carmen sauntered to her desk and sat down. Carmen stared at her, her ebony face blank and unreadable.

Something about the way she said ‘relationship’ ruffled Keisha’s feather. She turned the word into something synonymous with dirty. Illicit. “I’m dating him, yes.”

“Dating, huh?” Carmen said with a sneer.

Keisha felt her voice rising. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“That a politician would-” She made quotation marks with her slender fingers. “-date a maid?” She shrugged. “No one’s about to yell, ‘Cut!’. This isn’t a movie. You have to understand my skepticism, sweetheart.”

Something in her eyes told Keisha that no one ever went to bat against her. She was used to wielding her authority like a whip. But Keisha wouldn’t allow her to run her through the mud just so she could feel superior.

Carmen’s lips curdled. “As I was saying, your personal life is your personal life and none of my business, but the way you project Winterhorn Inn and Suites is.”

Keisha let out a chuckle. This should be good. She never saw Jake while she was on the clock and always made sure she was in her civilian clothes, not her Winterhorn uniform.

“I’ve talked to the board and they agree that what you’re doing is highly inappropriate.”

Keisha squared her jaw. “I’m not sixteen years old, Carmen. How I spend my time off the clock is my concern. Not yours, and certainly not the board’s.”

“Just because you’re-” There was those quotation marks again. “-dating above your station doesn’t mean you can get familiar with me. You will address me as Mrs. Jackson, not Carmen.”

“Fine,” Keisha clipped. “What are you gonna do, write me up,” She paused. “Mrs. Jackson?”

Carmen’s nostrils flared. “If we find that you and your son take up residence at our hotel, disciplinary action will be taken.”

Keisha gave her a sly grin. She couldn’t believe she’d once been intimidated by this woman. She saw her manager for what she was, a petulant child that got off by bullying others and putting people down. “Is that right?”

Keisha snapped to her feet, her chair toppling to the floor. She wouldn’t get her scholarship check for another week at least. It was why she was giving notice and not quitting out right. “You can’t do this!”

“I already have,” Carmen said brusquely. She strode from her desk and opened her door. “Once you turn in your uniform, your last check will be mailed to you.”

Keisha was flabbergasted. It wasn’t fair. For the past two years she’d been a great employee. Just because Carmen had some sort of vendetta, just like that, her resignation had become a termination.

When she saw Monique hovering outside the door, a mischievous grin painted on her face, Keisha lost it. Fury blinded her and all she wanted to do was whoop somebody’s ass.

She bounded toward her, knocking her back into the locker. Monique let out a squeal but recovered quickly as she flipped over on her side and pounced on Keisha, socking her in the jaw. The thwok added to the commotion in the locker room as the maids gathered around, egging on the brawl with delight.

Keisha tasted blood and she let out a grunt as she bucked Monique from on top and took the girl by her cheap tracks and planted her face into the bench. She did it again and again, then pulled her back, straddling her as she punched, jabbing her left and right through tears of anger and frustration.

“I’m calling the police!” Carmen screeched over the ruckus. “I’m calling the police!”

Chapter Four

Jake

Jake kept glancing at his phone, every second, every mile not coming soon enough. He heard Keisha’s voice ringing in his ears—strong, defiant, until the end when she had to come clean about the incident at work.

Apparently, when she gave notice, her manager decided to one up and fire her instead. Monique had been waiting just outside, waiting to gloat and Keisha lost it, body slamming her. Before Jake could delight in the horrible woman getting exactly what she deserved, he realized that the reason Raven had told him to brace himself was because Keisha had been arrested.

Carla, Keisha’s flighty mother, had been gracious when Jake called her and apprised her of the situation. It had been a feat to not chew her out when she didn’t even bother asking how her daughter was doing.

The Escalade turned on Main Street and Jake gazed out the window. Mauryville had a certain small town charm, a homey feeling that DC lacked. A woman pushing a stroller took him out of the moment and he imagined Keisha in a flowing skirt that swished around her ankles, her dark arms bare and soft as silk as she glittered beneath the street lamps. He was beside her, joking as they talked about nothing and everything. She was safe, happy. He was happy.

He peered out the tinted window in confusion. The firefly quaint of the downtown street was replaced by cold, dark walls. They were in an alley, the SUV parked and humming beside a dumpster. “Where the hell are we?”

“I contacted the station and expressed our need for…sensitivity,” Raven explained. “They’ve already processed Keisha’s release and she should be coming out the back door any minute now.”

Jake felt the smile at his lips as he looked at his former intern, all grown up. He’d just been concerned with getting Keisha out of there that he hadn’t even thought about asking for the station to be discreet. “Good work, Raven.”

She turned away, her cheeks rosy red. “I, um-” She cleared her throat. “Thanks.”

Jake clicked his seat belt, pushing out of the car. Raven joined him, shivering as she pulled her cardigan tight around her. Jake couldn’t feel the cold. He felt nothing except the thunder of his heart as he stood rapt, waiting to see her.

When the door swung open and a woman in a uniform came out and talked to Raven for a moment and got her to sign paperwork, Jake tore past her, bounding up the stairs that led up to the station’s back door.

Keisha stepped over the threshold, her face hard and empty ‘til she saw him. When their eyes met, the world stopped. She stood frozen on the fire escape, her lips parted as she said one word—Jake.

He scooped her in his arms and she crumbled, her whole body wracked with sobs as she clutched him like her life depended on it. He stroked her, whispering that everything was okay now. Everything was okay. He was there. He would always be there.

As he led Keisha down the stairwell to the car, he heard Raven talking about the car and the press, probably trying to get them out of sight before they were spotted, but Jake stayed where he was needed, where it mattered. He breathed in the vanilla, coconut smell of Keisha’s hair, the caress of her skin as she sunk into his bones, her head against his chest as her sobs tapered off to sniffles.

Jake tilted her chin upward and kissed her, finally relaxing when he felt her lips pressed against his. “Don’t your worry about your mom. You worry about you right now.”

She ran a hand through her short hair. “I am so sorry you had to deal with this, Jake. I just know Winterhorn is going to press charges and it’s not going to do your campaign any favors-”

He shushed her as he opened the rear door to the Escalade. “Let’s just head back to the-”

His words hung in the air as a sedan came barreling down the alley, the shine of the headlights blinding him. Son of a bitch. He’d bet his bottom dollar that some loose lipped civil servant had called a reporter. But when the car blocked the exit and the driver door opened and shut and a shadowed figure stalked toward them, he noticed a familiar shamble. It was his father.

Raven was the first to speak. “Mr. Cunningham, I-”

His father completely ignored her, instead turning his attention to Jake. Even in the dark he could see the fury shining on his face. He gripped Jake’s elbow, yanking him from Keisha. For the slightest moment, Jake was too surprised to even respond.

“Are you still here?” he snapped, looking at her like she was a cockroach scurrying across the kitchen floor. He didn’t wait for a response. He lowered his voice. “Take the girl and get her out of here.”

Raven opened her mouth to protest but hung her head instead, conceding. She took a step toward Keisha, but Jake gripped Keisha’s hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. “We have this under control. Why don’t you get out of here, Dad?”

“Please,” Conrad said indignantly. “This could have crucified you, Jake. Luckily for you, my contacts at Newscorp were the first to stumble onto this and have given us time for damage control.” He turned back to Raven. “So you take the girl and-”

“She has a name!” Jake thundered.

“Jake,” Keisha said quietly. “It’s okay.” She stepped toward Raven. “Maybe you and I should go.”

But it wasn’t okay. His father started off disrespecting him, then he disrespected Raven. He’d finished off with disrespecting Keisha. Jake wasn’t gonna stand for it. “You’re going to respect Keisha, Dad.”

Conrad ran a hand through his gray hair, clearly fighting to maintain his composure. “How’s this? ‘Hi! I’ve heard such great things about you—pissing away a full-ride to one of the most prestigious universities in the world, having a child out of wedlock, and ruining my son’s campaign with your ghetto brawl!’”

“Dad-”

Keisha stepped forward, her shoulders squared. “I’m aware that my actions have consequences, Mr. Cunningham. And I hate that Jake may be drug through the mud because of this.”

“My dear,” Conrad said snidely. “That ship sailed the moment he met you.”

Jake saw red as he lurched forward and slammed his fist into his father’s jaw. The sound echoed around them like a gunshot.

He shook out his hand as it spasmed in pain. He expected his dad to come back at him. He could see the headlines now. But when Conrad stood up straight, he just held his jaw gingerly, his eyes round with all the surprise and shock that hung on the night air.

“Well,” he said finally, breaking the awkward silence. His gravelly voice wavered as he tightened his blazer and collected himself. “Apparently, I’m not needed.”

Jake was about to affirm his observation when Keisha pushed forward. Her voice was impossibly gentle, even kind as she touched Conrad’s forearm, stopping him.