In My Rearview Mirror Page 4

  The waitress shook Malik’s hand. “You have my vote. I’ve been following you closely, especially after you helped that daycare center get back on its feet after someone stole all of their equipment. My child goes to that center, and everyone sings your praises. You’ll be good for North Carolina.”

  “Well, thank you, ma’am.”

  “Call me Sharon.”

  “Thank you, Sharon. I appreciate your vote of confidence.” Malik stood and shook the waitress’ hand.

  “Great! I’m happy to serve you today.” She looked at Ivy and smiled. “And you, too, ma’am.”

  “She’s pushing for a hefty tip,” Malik said when the waitress was gone.

  “Well, Mr. Mason, you made her day. I think you can count on fifty extra votes on account of it.”

  “I think you’re right, Ivy. But I figured seventy-five extra votes.” Malik and Ivy laughed.

  It was obvious the waitress had run back and told all the help that Malik was dining with them. Every few minutes, a waiter or waitress happened to pass by, hovering around long enough to get a glimpse of Ivy and Malik.

  “You are a bona fide celebrity,” Ivy said, unable to converse with Malik as she planned. “I can’t wait to get you away from here so we can have some privacy. I need some ‘me time’ with the senator-to-be without his fan club.”

  “You’re not jealous, I hope. There will be plenty more days and nights to come when there will be demand for my attention. I hope you’ll be by my side.”

  “There’s no question about it. I’ll always be there for you, baby.”

  Malik smiled. “How does Senator and Mrs. Malik Mason sound?” Malik sat back in his seat, ready to assess Ivy’s response to his question.

  Ivy gasped. Her eyes bulged from their sockets. She stared at Malik as if he were a mirage, then held her chest. “Malik . . . are you asking me . . . are you saying what I think you’re . . . Are you asking me to be your wife?” Ivy felt embarrassed when Malik didn’t reply. She waited for a response.

  “You’re so funny to watch, but you’re not imagining a thing. Unless your brain waves were turned off, you interpreted everything correctly.”

  “That wasn’t fair, having me sit on pins and needles looking as if I’d lost my mind.”

  “Shhhh,” Malik said, as he drew her fingers to his lips and kissed them. Ivy watched as Malik went into his coat pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. He opened the box and there sat a five-carat, Princess-cut diamond engagement ring. “I haven’t had an opportunity to ask your dad for his blessing, which I’m sure he wouldn’t give.”

  Ivy ignored what Malik said about asking her father for her hand in marriage. Her eyes were glued on the ring. “Oh, oh, oh,” was all that came from Ivy’s mouth.

  “May I have your hand?”

  Ivy gently laid her hand in Malik’s.

  “Will you, Ivy Nicole Myles, marry me?”

  Tears gushed from Ivy’s eyes. “Will I . . . will I marry you? Yes, yes, yes!” Ivy almost shouted out loud. “Oh my God, yes.” Tears continued to flow.

  Malik took the ring and placed it on Ivy’s finger. She gawked at the size of the ring and held out her hand to admire it. “It’s so beautiful, Malik.”

  “Not half as beautiful as you are.”

  “I love you, Malik. You’ve made me so happy.” Ivy cried some more, stopping a moment to gaze at the diamond that sat on her finger. “I love you,” she mouthed again.

  “I love you, too, Ivy. Let’s not make this a long engagement.”

  The waitress returned with their food and saw Ivy admiring her ring. “Your She-Crab Soup.”

  “Thank you,” Ivy and Malik said simultaneously.

  “I’m sorry to be so nosey, but . . . is that what I think it is?”

  “Yes,” Ivy blurted out without shame. “I’m engaged.”

  The sound of hands clapping erupted throughout the restaurant. Ivy stood up, held out her hand, and put her ring on display. Malik watched her with a grin on his face. “I’m going to be Mrs. Malik Mason,” Ivy said out loud. The crowd continued to clap. Ivy sat and the applause subsided.

  “Oh my God,” the waitress exclaimed. “I can’t believe this is happening at my table. You need to order something to celebrate the occasion,” Sharon said to Malik.

  “I think you’re right. I’ll order a bottle of your best wine. Surprise me.”

  “Okay. I’ll never forget this day.”

  “I’ll never forget it either,” Ivy muttered, her eyes drawn once again to the brilliance of the ring. She wanted to tell Malik her surprise . . . about the embryo that was growing inside of her, but there was no way she’d upstage this moment with her little announcement. It was a good day . . . a romantic day, one she had envisioned for a long time. No, today was not the day to tell Malik he was going to be a father. Then a thought came to her. She looked up and saw Malik staring at her.

  “Baby, why don’t we get married today . . . tonight? I want to be your wife, now.”

  Malik looked at Ivy with surprise in his eyes. “Okay, baby, I know that you’re overcome, but there’s no need to rush. I’m sure you want to have a huge wedding with the beautiful white gown and all the bells and whistles, and, of course, with all of your family around.”

  “Let’s not wait. I don’t mean to sound selfish, but I don’t need a church wedding, family or friends.”

  Malik watched Ivy as she continued to speak.

  “My family is so dysfunctional now. They’d only add stress to a day that was meant to be perfect and the happiest day of my life. I hope you understand.”

  “If that will make you happy,” Malik said with some reservation. “Your dad may not agree with us getting married but surely your mom will want to be a part of your wonderful day.”

  Ivy pulled her hand back and sat it in her lap. Malik was once in love with her mother, and as far as she was concerned, there wasn’t going to be any other opportunity for Malik to start having feelings for her mother again. She would see to that.

  Ivy sat almost expressionless in her seat. “Is it important that I tell her? I haven’t seen or spoken to my mom in four or five months. She and I aren’t connecting, and this announcement would blow her away.” Ivy watched Malik and wondered what he was thinking.

  “Margo had her chance,” Malik began. “She blew it. Let’s go to South Carolina tonight and get married.”

  Ivy couldn’t hide her delight. Things were going to fall into place. She’d make passionate love to Malik, and as soon as they said “I do,” the baby she carried inside of her would have a father without the illegitimate sign hanging around his or her neck. “I love you, Malik.”

  “I love you, too, Ivy. You’re going to make a wonderful wife and companion.”

  Ivy’s dream was coming to pass. Older men always appealed to her. Twenty-five years young, Ivy felt on top of the world. The man she secretly admired and wanted for years was now hers and she was going to be Mrs. Malik Mason, Senator Mason’s beautiful wife.

  Nine

  Ivy was awakened by the sudden shift in the bed. Her eyes now adjusted to the semi-darkness, she was able to make out the silhouette of her husband with his taunt pajamaless back with its well-defined muscles. Turning on her side, Ivy reached out to him, her ring sparkling in the early morning from the few strands of light that peeked through the blinds.

  “Hey, baby,” she said in a sweet, soft voice.

  Malik turned around and took Ivy’s hand and kissed it and inched his way up the length of her arm, planting kisses along the way until he found her lips. He held her head in a lover’s embrace and kissed her passionately, opening her mouth with his tongue, inhaling and tasting until Ivy moaned.

  Malik travelled to her neck and painted kisses all around until he was ready for a new adventure. He pushed his body up and was now on his hands and knees looking to see what else he could devour. Malik straddled Ivy and gently took her arms and pinned them behind her. With her head pushed back, the soft moun
ds of her breasts were now exposed, her nipples erect just above the skimpy lace-trimmed teddy she wore. Malik continued his gentle probe, taking each nipple in his mouth and sucking them as if they were an irresistible fruit of passion.

  Ivy squirmed and moaned underneath him, the sensation too much to bear. Then Malik took each breast and fondled them, squeezing the nipples gently before tasting them again. Ivy’s body writhed from the excitement of it all and begged Malik to make love to her.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Mason. I love you,” Malik said as he came up for air.

  “I love you, too, baby, but we can talk later. I have needs only you can fulfill since you’ve taken me to the mountaintop.”

  Ivy was naive in many ways when it came to matters of the heart, but Malik was going to relish being a good teacher. He covered her mouth again with his and then began his long, tedious journey to find the pot of gold. He humbled her as he caressed her body with his tongue, discovering Ivy’s erogenous zones that she never knew existed. And for the first time Malik truly discovered the gateway to pure satisfaction for himself and his wife. Ivy was now in total surrender—the young lady finally becoming a full-grown woman.

  • • •

  They lay spent from their lovemaking. Malik hadn’t felt this satisfied in a long time. Lying on his back, he pushed up on his elbows and rolled toward Ivy but she was fast asleep. Malik wasn’t sure how long he had dozed off, but it was past time to get up and go to his place of business before stopping by campaign headquarters.

  Malik looked again at the sleeping beauty. She had the look of innocence. While he and Ivy had been intimate before their marriage, she hadn’t let go of her soul. She held back the best part of her—the thunder and the roar—maybe because she was afraid or inexperienced in the ways of true seduction and romance. And then he remembered her mother.

  He watched Ivy with loving eyes, her chest rising slightly and then retreating. Ivy shifted, and at that moment she looked so much like Margo. Malik shook his face as the image of Margo replaced that of Ivy—so vivid the memory of their one night together. He sat up straight and caught his breath, eager to leave the image behind. Malik wondered what Margo would say when she found out that he had married her daughter and that he was giving Ivy what he’d always wanted to give her.

  He got up and turned on his Walter Murphy CD—the music soothing to his ears. Then he headed straight for the shower to rinse the lust for another woman from his body. Malik hadn’t thought about Margo in a long time, but now her image had come to haunt him. When he’d run into Ivy that day in the coffee shop in Atlanta, he was sure that seducing her was to exact revenge on Margo for rejecting him. He had fallen madly in love with Margo, and Malik knew that Margo had felt something for him, too. And then, just like that, Jefferson was released from prison, and he’d become a thorn in her side, although they were together almost always after his wife, Toni, died.

  And then Margo had come running, no begging him to make love to her. She thought Jefferson was with Angelica. Wow, Angelica. He’d forgotten her, but how could anyone forget Angelica with the angelic body that any man would die for? She was once Margo’s best friend, but that came with a price. Angelica tried to seduce him, and he would have let her if he wasn’t so sure that Margo was going to be his.

  Malik turned the water on high. Those old feelings of lust had to go away. He had a beautiful new wife that was going to keep him happy for years. He’d win the state senate seat, and then he’d run for governor. And if the political road seemed promising for him, he’d run for President of the United States.

  He scrubbed harder as images of Margo tried to seize his mind and his groin. The pounding water didn’t seem to help, only exacerbate the feelings and the memories. He jumped at the pounding on the glass to the shower door and felt condemned when he opened the door to a beautiful and naked Ivy who begged to join him.

  “You want me to scrub your back?” Ivy asked, planting kisses all over Malik’s chest.

  “Yeah, baby.”

  “And I see you’re still thinking about that good lovin’ I threw on you last night.” Ivy laughed.

  “Yeah, baby,” Malik said, trying to hide his erection.

  “Why don’t you let Momma take care of that for you?”

  “Gotta go to the shop. Baby, you know I want to, bad. What are my customers going to say?”

  “They’ll understand when you don’t show up. You need to call your assistant and tell him you’re married now.”

  Malik laughed. “Come here, baby.” With the water raining on them, he kissed Ivy and pinned her against the shower wall, admiring her beauty, kissing and feeling her all over until he entered her. Their bodies melded together, they made love to Walter Murphy’s recording “A Fifth of Beethoven,” each moan and groan delivered at a fever pitch. Malik gave Ivy what she wanted. And then they were spent, each collapsing in the arms of the other. After a brief moment, he held her arms and moved her back so that he could admire her body. “Hurry up and get dressed. I’m ready to announce to the world that Malik Mason is no longer single.”

  “I’ll be ready in five, Mr. Mason.”

  Ten

  After leaving SuperComp Technical Solutions, Malik and Ivy headed for his campaign headquarters. Ivy felt on top of the world, driving around Fayetteville with her brand new husband in his black BMW 750i without a care in the world. She’d given up her job in Atlanta as a financial analyst assistant making decent money to be with Malik. She wasn’t sure where her next dime would come from, but now she was Mrs. Malik Mason whose husband was now running for Senator in the State of North Carolina. Yes, she was on top of the world.

  She felt giddy as they neared Malik’s campaign headquarters and relished in the thought of what it was going to be like when Malik announced that he had gotten married. Would they love and embrace her like they did Malik? Of course they would.

  “Okay, baby, this is it,” Malik said as he turned into the parking lot. “It’s time for the great reveal.”

  “I’m ready.”

  Malik came around and opened the door for his wife, who slid out of the seat like she was a princess. Ivy flexed her hand and ring finger as if practicing for a part in a movie or a play. She wore an orange and yellow two-piece cotton suit with matching pumps and a yellow sleeveless shell. Malik wore a tan gabardine suit set off by an off-white, lightweight knit shirt. On his feet, he wore a shiny pair of tan Stacy Adams that would have sufficed as a crystal ball.

  Arm in arm they walked through the doors of Malik’s campaign headquarters. There were four or five staffers who volunteered their time and were busy on the phones. There were two males in their early-twenties and three ladies who were in their mid-twenties to late-thirties. Ivy recognized a couple of the girls as long lost acquaintances that she had ceased to keep in contact with. She smiled and waved but they ignored her, continuing their telephone conversations with their backs to her.

  Ivy sniffed. She was going to get some respect up in here. There was no way they were going to ignore Mrs. Ivy Mason.

  Malik held up his hand and got everyone’s attention. “I need to talk to everyone as soon as you conclude your telephone conversations.”

  One by one, each of his staffers put their phones down as soon as their calls were completed. Many of them had been at the office since early morning calling folks to ask for their donations, time, and most importantly their votes. The phones were silent for the next five minutes.

  Ivy stood back as Malik took center stage with the staffers standing around him in a semi-circle. “Hey, everyone, I appreciate your hard work.”

  “You could’ve brought us some lunch,” one of the young men replied. Everyone laughed.

  “Sure you’re right, my young friend. I just might do that, but before I do, I have a very important announcement to make.” He waved for Ivy to come and stand next to him. “This beautiful lady standing next to me is Mrs. Ivy Mason, my wife.”

  The demeanor on the faces of the w
omen changed several times as they looked from one to the other. The news had caught them off-guard because at no time had the man they were volunteering their services in hopes of him gaining a win for a seat in the North Carolina Senate given any indication that he was off the market and, least of all, was headed for the altar. In fact, LaShea, one of the workers, had made it known to Malik and everyone else in the camp that she was single and unattached and that Malik Mason would make a nice catch.

  “Don’t just stand there,” Malik said, not sure it was the right thing to say.

  Milo, the young brother began to clap, and the others followed, softly.

  “You’ll see a lot of my wife here at headquarters,” Malik began.

  “Ummm,” LaShea said under her breath although everyone in the room heard it.

  Ivy fidgeted and rocked back and forth in her shoes, not feeling the love. It was all right because she didn’t care about any of those heifers who acted as if they had an attitude about her new status. It was what it was. She was Malik’s wife. She cocked her head and listened to Malik’s final announcement.

  “I wanted you to know first. I want to have a press conference in a couple of days to share the news with my constituency. We have a lot of hurdles to cross and I understand that I’m running against a very tough opponent. But we can win, and we will win.”

  “Yes, we will win,” Milo began the chat.

  Everyone chimed in except LaShea. She walked up to Malik and stood in front of him and rolled her eyes at Ivy. “I quit.” And she walked out of the door.

  “Is there anyone else who feels like LaShea? Speak now.”

  “Naw, Mr. Mason,” Mychele, the older woman, said. “We’re with you. And welcome, Mrs. Mason.”

  Ivy smiled for the first time since walking into campaign headquarters. “Thank you,” she mouthed.

  “Baby, how about I take you out for a nice lunch, drop you home, before I head back here?”

  “That’ll be fine, baby.”