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“You demanded time with me. Are you going to squander your opportunity?” Pedro asks.
Instead of answering him, I walk around the office. Accolades from the community and news organizations documenting his achievements are tastefully placed within the space. Not ostentatious but not humble either. A factual and confident representation of the work Mayor Salas does.
From our few interactions, I gather he isn’t a sleaze, but his familiarity with Kenya rubs me the wrong way.
“What are your intentions with Kenya?” The question I’ve been holding inside comes out unbidden.
Pedro wipes his mouth with a napkin and considers me for endless seconds. “I think I have more of a right to ask you that question. Kenya and I go way back. You just arrived on the scene.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her,” I admit and join him at the table.
“That sounds like a you problem. Why are you making it Kenya’s?”
I tap the table while I consider my response. “I guess telling you that Onyx and Laila also want to make it Kenya’s problem wouldn’t move you.”
“You seem to have me pegged.” His dry tone and confident air aren’t as off putting as I wish them to be.
Hell, am I actually warming up to the guy?
“All I can say is that she’s given me reasons to think she has feelings for me. Saying more without her knowledge doesn’t sit right with me.”
“Yet she hid from you.”
“I know. I was here.”
“Yes, you were.” He sends me a wry smile before standing. “You’ve been honest with me, so I’ll lay a few cards on the table. My romantic interests lie elsewhere, but I’ll always be protective of Kenya. Like I mentioned earlier, we go way back.”
A sense of relief nearly bowls me out of my chair. “So you’ll agree to let me co-chair the Founder’s Day event with Kenya?”
“Not so fast. I don’t appoint empty heads to positions. Kenya has experience no one here has. What do you bring to the table?”
“I have a great network with amazing artist friends.” I hint at the trump card I debated about using on the way here. Working beside Kenya for as long as it takes to plan this event might be my only chance to show her I’m not the bad influence she thinks I am. “They could make your event epic.”
My offer sparks cautious interest in his eyes. “Like?” he prompts.
There’ll be no going back after telling him the one thing that would make any government official leap with joy. Although I want Kenya to be the first to know, I’ll take the risk of Pedro keeping my secret until I find the right time to tell her.
Everything will work out. After I tell Kenya the truth, I’ll have three months to work on myself. It’s just one day. One performance. A determination to overcome my heart-pounding and shaking whenever I get near my beloved set galvanizes me.
“Have you heard of the band Liquid Obsession?” I ask.
A feverish glow enters his gaze. He lowers his lids to mask his reaction, but I clock his interest. “A constituent may have mentioned the group here and there. How good are your connections? Is it an ‘I have a guy’ thing or an ‘I know somebody who knows somebody’ thing?”
“Before I tell you, you have to promise not to let anyone know, especially Kenya. I haven’t found the best time to tell her yet.”
“That depends, will your secret hurt her in any way?”
“Maybe her pride for not being the first to know. I’m not hiding anything nefarious or underhanded. The thing is I know Kenya and I can be something amazing, but amazing relationships are built on trust and transparency. If given the chance, wouldn’t you do your damndest to make the best out of the relationship with the woman you envision being with?”
Pedro diverts his gaze to the bookcase in the corner. I follow his stare to the antique clock displayed on the middle shelf. From the gleaming wood finish, it is well cared for. And from the softening around Pedro’s mouth, there is deep sentiment associated with it.
“Alright.” He turns to me with resolve burning in his eyes. “I promise not to disclose your connection to the group. Now, how do you know Liquid Obsession?”
“Believe it or not, I’m their drummer.”
“No shit.” He stands and circles me. “Anything other than your word to prove it? No offense, but that band wears so much makeup that it’s impossible to know who they are without it.”
“That was by design. Hold on a sec.” I take my phone and video call Khadijah’s number.
